21. Brynne

Chapter 21

Brynne

S tay quiet and don't scream. That's what he wants me to do. He wants a reaction, and I'm not going to give it to him.

My body jostled side to side in the back of what I assumed to be a vehicle. I wasn't in a seat, nor was I crammed uncomfortably in a trunk, which meant it had to be a van. I wasn't skilled in figuring out my surroundings without seeing where I was, but I had to learn real quick how to sense anything and everything with a cloth tied over my eyes.

"Wonder what she's got under that sweatshirt," a man said with a nasally voice.

A raspy chuckle sounded from my other side. "Bet her boyfriend wouldn't mind if we had a little look."

"Boss said to leave her to him," another male called back from somewhere behind me. He must be the one driving the van.

The other two had to be at least two or three feet from me, on either side of the vehicle. My hands were bound behind my back, making it hard to stay upright with each bump and turn, but I refused to lose my balance. It'd only make me look more vulnerable if I did.

I'd woken from the hit only minutes ago, and as soon as I did, I'd scrambled to this sitting position, with my back pressed firmly against the metal wall behind me. This was the first they'd spoken, and I couldn't decide if knowing they were in here with me made me feel better than the suffocating silence. To die alone or with an audience was a decision I didn't think I'd ever want to make—not that they'd let me have a say, anyway.

"Well, the boss ain't here right now, is he?" nasally guy shot back.

"We don't even need to touch her to get a show," the raspy one said, then added, "Her ass is practically spilling out of those shorts."

I swallowed hard, shifting where I sat to try to hide their view of my ass, but without being able to see, I didn't know if the position I moved into was enough to block it. I mentally cursed McKenna for making me wear this slutty cowgirl costume. I'd thought the outfit would be cute to taunt Booker with—not to end up getting eye-fucked by some creeps.

Brakes squealed as the van stopped moving, but the engine didn't turn off. Silence stretched for too long before the sound of a door opening filled the space, and the vehicle dipped slightly as someone must've gotten in.

"You listen to my instructions?" a deep, unsettling voice asked. Somehow, it seemed familiar, but I couldn't place it. I blamed the hit on my head for making me imagine things .

"Yes, boss. Got the girl in one piece, just like you asked," the nasally one answered.

"That amount of blood on her face and you think that's one piece?" the one I assumed was the boss questioned.

I folded in on myself slightly with the knowledge that there was blood on me. I hadn't realized I was that injured with my focus on where I was and who was with me. Pain was an afterthought.

"Gun nicked her head when I hit her," the raspy one said.

"I don't give a shit. Get the fuck out."

Rustling filled my ears before the van dipped again, and then the doors were shut. Behind me, the peep door must've been closed as well as a scrape sounded. But I knew I wasn't alone.

"Quiet one, aren't you?" the boss asked, but with his tone, it was clear he was taunting me, trying to get a reaction.

I wouldn't give in.

Two footfalls, and the cloth was ripped from my face. I blinked rapidly as my eyes adjusted to my surroundings. I was correct in that I was currently in a van, and by the smears of old blood on the wall, I could tell this wasn't their first time holding someone in here.

I refused to look up at the man standing before me, so I kept my gaze on the door just past him. A rough hand gripped my chin, forcing my face up, but I didn't give him my eyes. He wouldn't get the satisfaction of seeing any hint of fear in them.

"Stubborn little bitch, aren't you?"

I pressed my lips firm together as his grip tightened. Tears pooled in my eyes, but still, I wouldn't look.

"Don't make me ask, Brynne. I don't use manners."

Manners or not, he wouldn't get what he wanted.

If he was using me for bait, chances were, Booker would leave me here to die. He had his deed—he had no reason to come save me.

Our deal…it was done. And even though he'd said he was still there, a part of me still believed he was only using me for the time being. We had our moments, but was it enough to risk his life for me? His inconvenient house guest was gone, and it was just one more thing taken off his plate.

I didn't see it as the boss pulled his hand back, but I felt the sting when his palm made contact with my cheek. My head jerked to the side as I squeezed my eyes shut, but he forced it back in his direction.

"Open those eyes, bitch. Let me see your fear."

But I didn't. I swallowed that shit down like a fucking pill and acted on impulse.

My legs weren't bound, so I used the opportunity to catch him off guard by swinging a kick directly at his knee. I opened my eyes in time to see it buckle, but he regained his balance quicker than I thought he would, and I had nowhere to go. Finally, I looked at him, and my blood froze.

"Doug?" My voice was merely a shriek full of breath and disbelief.

An unsettling chuckle rasped from him. "Just one of the names I use." He pinned his glare on me, amusement shining in his eyes. "Bet you didn't see that coming, did you?"

Without thinking, I kicked forward again, and he stumbled back a step before charging me with a curse. His hand whipped out, wrapping around my neck, and then he was sliding me up the cold metal wall behind me. My hair caught on little crevices, tearing from my scalp, but it was nothing compared to the pressure he put on my throat. It wasn't anything like Booker ever did to me; this was with the intent to kill me, not pleasure me.

My feet scrambled for purchase as he held me by my neck with both hands now, crushing my windpipe. My mind swirled with panic and the truth behind the fact that Doug wasn't who I thought he was—an innocent patron that frequented Marv's Diner.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you what happens when you don't listen?" His voice was so calm despite the pain he inflicted, so different from the man I knew before.

My mouth opened and closed as I tried to gasp for air, but nothing came.

"No?"

He waited as if I could answer.

Fucking prick.

"Then I have no choice but to show you what happens when you don't obey. Just like I showed that asshole I sent on a job what happens when he puts his hands on me in a display of theatrics."

I wasn't expecting it when he dropped me, and my body slammed to the hard floor. My shoulder screamed along with my lungs as I sucked in the oxygen I was starved of. But all too quickly, it was forced out of me when a boot hit me right in the stomach.

Not a single noise escaped me as I tried so hard to suck in air. I needed to breathe or I wouldn't fucking survive .

Breathe.

Breathe!

But my lungs were empty, and my stomach was heaving, and I was fucking dying.

I'm not dying.

I'm just scared.

That's it. It's the fear.

"Swallow your fear, Darlin'. Don't let it control you. Bend that fear to your advantage and use it as fuel."

Booker's voice filled my mind at the same time oxygen flowed into my lungs, his words fueling me to get it together. I wouldn't make it out of here if I let myself be weak.

The man crouched down in front of me, quietly watching as I gulped down air. His hands dangled in between his legs, his elbows propped on his thighs.

I continued to breathe heavily in the hopes it would make him think I was still struggling. And while I was—my lungs were still on fire, my throat burning, and my stomach sore—I needed him to think I was down if I wanted to get the upper hand here.

With a heaving chest, I quickly reeled my leg up and sent as much force as I could muster behind the kick, straight into his shin.

But before my foot could land true, he grabbed my ankle and squeezed.

"Such a feisty little thing," he said as I screamed. From pain or frustration, I wasn't sure.

His fingers dug into my skin as I tried to yank my leg back, but it was no use. I was at a disadvantage where I lay on my side.

He yanked me toward him, causing me to roll onto my back. I tried to twist onto my side again, but he was on me in a flash, and my entire body was instantly on alert as it hummed with panic.

His thighs straddled my hips, keeping my legs useless as I thrashed.

"Use your manners and maybe I'll take it easy."

I tried to rear my leg up again, but my knee only hit his backside with barely any force.

He was sitting up, watching as I struggled. The sick fuck fucking got off on it.

I needed my energy, and lying here wiggling around while it was clearly useless wouldn't get me anywhere. I stopped, staring up at him as I tried to catch my breath. "He's not coming for me, if that's what you're hoping."

The asshole smirked. "You underestimate how much power you hold over those boys."

I gritted my teeth together as I let out a strangled laugh. "You underestimate how much they actually care for me."

He tilted his head to the side. "Really?"

I waited, knowing he had more to say.

"I've seen them with you. But not just them—Booker."

"Booker would bury me himself if given the chance."

The thought alone had emotion threatening to swell my throat. I hated admitting how much I'd grown attached to him.

"Ah, see. He doesn't want to. Henley's a little fool, making it too easy to keep an eye on him. And, well, you know how the three of them live together. I have no choice but to have my men watching over Austin and Booker, too." He leaned closer, but I didn't try to shrink back, even if I could. It'd only fuel his satisfaction. "I know exactly how much that man cares for you, which made you the perfect hostage." He patted my cheek before sitting up again, looking bored. "But the thing about hostages is, it's only a fifty percent chance they'll make it out alive."

"Then kill me," I spit out. "What are you waiting for? If you're so certain he'll come for me, just kill me. He wouldn't know."

His eyes narrowed the slightest bit. "So eager to beg for your death."

"It's better than spending another minute in this van with you."

The corners of his mouth tilted up at that. "I thought you liked being manhandled?"

Bile threatened to creep up, but I shoved it down.

He chuckled, the sound low and vomit-inducing. "So easy to rile you up, Brynne."

"So what's your plan?" I asked, needing his weight off my body like a fish needed water. "Kill the both of us once he shows up?"

He shrugged. "I could. But it's a good thing you're a hostage, and you don't get that kind of information."

"You're just going to kill me anyway."

He leaned down again, bracing both hands on the floor right above my shoulders. "What's the fun without a little surprise?"

My lips were a thin line, my teeth threatening to break clean through.

His hand disappeared behind his back, and then cold metal pressed against my cheek, and I realized he'd pulled out a gun. My heart instantly pounded in my chest, and my mind spun as panic seized hold of me.

The man's eyes dropped to my lips as the bottom one quivered. "Sh, sh, sh. Don't be scared now." He trailed the gun down my cheek, across the curve of my jaw, then up to my mouth. He tugged my bottom lip down with the tip of the muzzle, and my entire body shook as my breaths came in heavy pants. "We wouldn't want your boyfriend to see his little girlfriend all worked up, would we?"

His eyes searched mine as he glided the cold metal down my chin and over my throat.

"Ah, who am I kidding?"

He pressed the gun to the side of my neck.

"I want him to see the life seep out of you."

Gravel crunched under tires outside, and the corner of his mouth ticked up.

"Just in time."