Chapter 42

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Sawyer pulled into his driveway, anticipation buzzing through his veins. There were so close. They just needed the last piece of the puzzle.

He turned off the engine, listening to the settling noises of his car, and looked over at Brynlee’s house next door. Usually she beat him home, but tonight her place looked dark, her driveway empty.

A kernel of jealousy sat heavy in his gut. Was she out on a date? Shoving the thought aside, he grabbed his things and climbed from the car, then headed inside. He dragged himself toward the shower, exhaustion clinging to him, and ducked under the warm spray. It soothed his tired muscles and helped to clear his mind, despite the fact that his thoughts continued to flit toward the woman next door.

He finished showering, then headed to the kitchen to get something to eat. He couldn’t help but detour past the living room windows, peering out to see if Brynlee was home yet. Her driveway remained infuriatingly empty, and he let out a low growl. Where the fuck was she?

Grabbing up his phone from where he’d left it on the kitchen counter, he checked the screen. There were no texts, no missed calls. No surprise there. Tamping down his anger, he dialed Brynlee, and his heart rate increased when it rang over and over until her voicemail picked up.

His foot tapped an impatient rhythm on the floor, and he mentally scolded himself. She had no reason to report to him or keep him informed of every move she made. But damn it, didn’t she realize she could be in danger? Someone had tampered with her car less than a week ago. What if something had happened?

Heart in his throat he grabbed his keys, then hopped in the car and headed toward town. As he drove, he used the Bluetooth function to try her again. When it too went unanswered, he immediately ended the call and dialed her again. Over and over it went to voicemail.

He pulled into the parking lot at Blissful Beauty, and his heart lurched in his throat. Thank God. There, in the far corner of the lot, sat Brynlee’s rental car. A relieved sigh filtered from his lips, and he pulled in next to it, then parked. For a moment he sat there, willing his pulse to slow.

Impatiently, he glanced up and down the sidewalk, checking for any sign of her. It was always possible that she’d walked down to one of the local shops after work, but why wasn’t she answering her phone?

Pulling out his phone, he called Brynlee again. A soft ringing filled the air, and the hairs on the backs of his arms stood on end. He turned in a circle, heart racing. Where the hell had that come from?

His worry only increased as her phone continued to ring in my ear, coinciding with the soft jangle nearby. Dread settled in his gut as he slowly approached the corner of the building and peered into the alley between the buildings.

A dumpster sat behind the building, and his stomach tumbled riotously as he dragged himself closer. He ended the call and the ringing stopped.

Hand shaking, he reached for the lid of the dumpster and cracked it open. Relief mingled with dread as he spied Brynlee’s purse on top of a black trash bag. She wasn’t here—thank God. But the fact that someone had tossed her phone and purse didn’t bode well.

Oh, Christ. His stomach pitched violently as he dialed Dare’s number, his hand shaking.

“Hey, Reed. What’s up?”

It took him a moment to form the words, still not quite able to believe what he was seeing. Finally he managed to push them past his lips. “Bryn… She's gone.”

* * *

Brynlee pushed through the fog that penetrated her brain, shoving the darkness aside. She blinked hard once. Twice. Finally, she managed to crack her eyes open. She stared at her surroundings, blurry and unfocused. Nothing looked right. Then she realized why: everything was upside down and moving.

Her body swung gently, like a pendulum, and panic surged through her as she realized she was draped over someone’s shoulder, her hands bound tightly behind her back.

Fragmented memories assaulted her—leaving the salon, a man coming up behind her, the squeeze of her lungs as they fought to draw in air…

She twisted her head from side to side, trying to see her captor, but the world spun dizzily. The ground was too close, the ceiling above too far, and everything was tilted at a nauseating angle. She could make out the shape of a man’s legs and back, his movements steady as he crossed the darkened room.

Where the hell was she? She tried to cry out, but her throat was dry, and her voice came out as a hoarse whisper.

Fear gripped her chest, squeezing tighter with each passing second. She started to thrash, kicking her legs wildly, her bound hands straining against the ties. The man grunted, struggling to keep his balance.

“Just relax,” the man said, his voice calm and measured.

Relax? How the hell was she supposed to relax? His ambivalence served only to spur her fear, and Brynlee kicked harder, bucking wildly against his shoulder. She felt her feet connect with something solid and the man stumbled, his grip on her legs loosening the tiniest bit. With a final desperate thrash, she managed to break free, and all of a sudden she was falling.

The ground rushed up to meet her, and the air rushed from her lungs in a painful whoosh. Agony shot through her arms and shoulders as she hit the hard ground, but adrenaline coursed through her, forcing her to move. Awkwardly she rolled to her knees and lurched forward, her movements jerky and uncoordinated.

She didn’t get far. The man lunged after her, grabbing her by the waist and yanking her back. She screamed, kicking and struggling against his hold with all her might. He was stronger, though, and she felt herself being lifted off the ground again, her frantic movements doing little to slow him down.

“Help!” she screamed, her voice breaking with fear and frustration. “Somebody, please help!”

The man threw her to the ground again, this time harder, knocking the wind out of her. She gasped, trying to catch her breath, her vision swimming with tears. The man loomed over her, his face twisted with anger, and her blood run cold.

She froze, momentarily caught off guard. She knew that face—she’d seen it just a couple of weeks ago when he’d inspected the salon. Her mouth parted but nothing came out.

“Listen to me,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “You try that again, and I’ll make sure you regret it. Understand?”

Brynlee nodded, tears streaming down her face. She had to stay calm, had to think. Panic would only make things worse. She needed to find a way out, a way to survive.

The man grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to her feet. “Now, move,” he ordered, shoving her forward.

She took in her surroundings, looking for anything that could help her. The dim light overhead flickered, casting eerie shadows on the rough stone walls. She realized with a sickening jolt that she was in a basement, far from any chance of immediate rescue.

Something came into sight up ahead, and she squinted against the dim light. The object was large and white, and?—

Brynlee froze, her heart jumping into her throat at the sight of the stained mattress on the floor beneath the halo of light. Worse, several feet away lay a second mattress, its occupant sleeping, or…

She didn’t want to consider the alternative. Brynlee tried to backpedal, digging in her heels. She bumped into the man behind her, but he shoved her forward and she stumbled, her legs collapsing as he forced her downward.

Brynlee could do nothing to stop herself as fell face-first onto the revolting mattress, the putrid scent of filth filling her nostrils and tainting her tongue. She struggled to move her bound hands, but they were tied too tightly. She kicked out with her feet, desperate to fight back, but he was too strong, too big. His weight pressed down on her, pinning her in place.

Terror surged through her as she heard him fumbling with something. She twisted her head to see, catching a glimpse of a small bottle and a cloth. The realization sent a wave of panic crashing over her.

Oh, God.

She couldn’t let him knock her out again. Summoning all her strength, she thrashed violently, managing to lift her head just enough to headbutt him with all her might.

“Damn it!” he swore, recoiling in pain.

But her victory was short-lived. Enraged, he wrapped a hand around her throat, squeezing tightly. Brynlee gasped, her vision blurring as her airway constricted.

Black spots danced in front of her eyes, and the room spun, the shadows growing darker. Her last thought was a desperate plea for Sawyer to find her, for anyone to save her, as everything faded to black.