CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

LUCY

We were having such fun signing books at the bookstore, which by the way, is freaking amazing. It's huge, and I know, ‘that's what she said', but it really is! This is the way indie books should be seen, standing tall on shelves together, and ready to be devoured.

Anyway, when that guy who works at the store asked us to pop into the back, so he could show us some book boxes he was preparing and wanted to add us to, we stupidly followed him. Turns out the prick doesn't work there at all, he just stole one of their t-shirts, so he could grab us. Why does everyone want to kidnap us? It's getting really old, especially since he's not even doing it right.

"You know we could have escaped by now, dipshit," I bait him, knowing that as crazy as it seems to wind the guy up, we need to keep him on edge, and stop him from focusing on whatever the hell his plan is.

Truthfully, this isn't half as scary as it was being kidnapped by our men, and they'd snap this guy like a twig. I'm pretty sure Stella could too. I'm the weak one, but I give a mean kick in the nuts, or I'm sure I could if I had the chance.

"Will you shut the fuck up, bitch? Jesus, you seem so fucking sweet on those live things you do together. This isn't what I thought you'd be like."

"I'm sorry, Bryce, I guess we probably should be cowering in the corner and crying? Are we doing the captive thing wrong? Are we ruining the experience for you? You'd be a really shit book boyfriend, you know. Anti-heroes are supposed to be sexy, and commanding, and I dunno… more. You're not even intimidating," Stella says with a laugh, like we're not in any danger at all. I honestly don't know if we are, but I think we're both counting on the guys tracking us down, and making this asshole pay. Should we tell him that?

"You know what? When our boyfriends find you-"

"Do you even know where you're going, Chas? It feels like you're going in circles. Did you get stuck in traffic? How embarrassing. Aren't kidnappers supposed to plan this stuff in advance?"

I open my mouth to mention our men again, because they'll decimate this guy, but Stella catches my eye and shakes her head, moving her tied hands to her pocket and pointing. I don't know what she's pointing at, but I'm not doing it. One bisexual encounter was enough for me, thank you.

She rolls her eyes, and mouths, ‘live', or at least I think that's it. Maybe it's ‘alive'? Yeah, I'd like to stay alive, so I nod at her.

"Ooh, we're slowing down, so Brandon must have found his way at last. Do you at least have a room to lock us in, or didn't you think that through? I swear, we should write this loser into a book, and have three real anti-heroes tear him apart."

"Listen, bitches, I've had enough of your mouths, so-"

"Wow, already? I've never heard of an anti-hero who doesn't want a woman's mouth. Maybe he can't even get it up, Lucy."

"FUCK'S SAKE! Shut up!"

He gets out of the van and while we're alone, Stella leans closer to me.

"I'm doing a live stream from the phone in my pocket, so don't mention you know who." Voldemort? Why the hell would I… oh… that took me way too long to catch on, so I'm blaming baby brain. Would I have that yet? It's definitely not fear of this ‘kidnapper'. He looks about twenty, and he's hardly tough enough to restrain both of us, so I'm fairly certain we're going to beat him up long before the guys even find us.

The side door of the van opens, and he points the gun right at us. "Move."

STELLA

We taunted him, hoping to distract him from whatever the fuck his plans are, but now shit is getting real. We are trapped in an old decaying house. When we were being dragged through the back door, I got a look at the outside of the filthy white house. The grass didn't look like it had been cut in over a year, coming up past my knees, and the thing that terrified me far more than this dipshit, was the fear that a snake was going to crawl up my leg. I have to pee like you wouldn't believe, and I'm tempted to tell him we're pregnant, so he'll maybe be nice and let us use the toilet. However, I quickly decide against it, because I don't want to do anything to put either of our babies in danger. The fact is, we don't know why he took us or what he intends to do. I'm not religious, but right now I'm fucking praying that the guys get here before anything really terrible happens.

Sitting on the floor of what I guess is his bedroom, we both glance around the room. I look at the posters on the wall and it's odd. Who at his age still has concert posters on the wall? After he tied Lucy to the foot of the bed frame, and me to the head, he mumbled something incoherent and left the room.

She stares at the poster closest to her with horror. "What the absolute fuck is that?"

This situation is no laughing matter, but I can't help the laughter that bubbles up. "That's SlipKnot , Lucy."

Glancing at me with wide eyes, she says, "What is that?"

"A band."

Obviously, Lucy and I don't have emo days in common. SlipKnot was my escape before I found writing, but I didn't have posters like this asshole, who still seems stuck in his wayward youth.

"I've never heard of them."

I try to shrug, but it's a little challenging with my hands tied behind my back. "They are a metal band. Probably a little loud for you."

The heavy sound of angry footsteps echoes down the hallway, as Lucy and I exchange a worried glance.

"Which one of you bitches has the phone?"

Suddenly, it gets really hard to breathe. It reminds me of when I got busted with our guys for posting on Facebook. I didn't know it then, but now I'm confident Gage never would've caused us any real harm. This guy, I'm not so sure about. My usual response is to offer myself in exchange for my best friend, but can I even do that now? I'm pregnant. No matter what, I have to protect my child. Then again, so is she, and I'm the one that did the live to help the guys find us. So why should Lucy and her baby pay for my actions?

"One of you has a phone. You have two seconds to tell me who and where, or one of you dies. Right on TikTok since you love that so much."

I stare at him with disbelief, because I'm fairly certain if you live stream killing someone, the police will come quickly.

"I have nothing left to live for. I'll kill you both, and then myself."

Taking a deep breath, I say, "I have it. It was me."

"Where?"

"Left pocket," I say as a tear trickles down my cheek, because I don't think I'll be seeing our men again. I don't know his story, but I know people that think they have nothing left to lose don't care about consequences.

He reaches into my pocket and retrieves my phone. "Too bad you don't get to watch," he says to my phone, "I'm going to kill this bitch. Slowly."

Then he throws the phone onto the floor and smashes it with his boot repeatedly. A choked sob escapes from me, because now I know, they aren't going to find us. Hell, after the way things were in London, they may think we left them. So maybe they aren't even looking.

Untying me from the bed, he yanks me up, and once I'm standing, he pulls me out of the room while Lucy sobs my name repeatedly.

Turning to her on my way out of the room, I flash her a sorrowful look. "Do what he says, alright? And tell them I love them."

GAGE

When the dickhead took her phone, I was able to screenshot a very quick image of him, only seconds before he smashed the phone. If he touches a fucking hair on her head, he's a dead man. I nearly snort at myself because that's a lie. He's a dead man regardless. Taking our women is a crime enough for punishment by death.

Sebastian runs a hand through his hair. "What if we don't get there in time, Gage? He said he was going to kill her. Chances are, he's hurting her already."

I grab his hand and try to ease his agony. "As long as he doesn't move them, we'll get them back. The idiot doesn't seem to realize they have three men tracking where he's got them. We already have the address, and we're getting them back. And then," I run my tongue over my bottom lip, imagining everything I'm going to do to him, "the fucker will pay."

I glance at Mav who appears a little like a bomb ready to explode.

"You with us, man?"

He nods slowly. "Yep. Kill the fucker."

Shaking my head, I say. "After. We find the women, make sure they are safe, and then we kill the fucker."

We pull up to the address I tracked, and I become immediately concerned. I assume the doors are locked, and we won't be able to go through a window, since every single one appears to be boarded up. Fuck .