Wyatt opened the package, checking out the delicious-looking pie. “Tell Danielle thanks.”
“I will when I see here. Take care.” The cook turned and went back to his car.
Wyatt closed the door.
Wearing only one of his shirts and followed by Wade, Mackenzie came rushing in from the hallway. “Was it about Trent?”
“No, love. Danielle sent this for you.”
Her shoulders sagged. “That’s nice. Should we call to get an update?”
“After we all have some pie. It’s banana cream, and I just learned it’s one of your favorites.”
Chapter Thirteen
Mac’s thoughts were thick and cloudy. She couldn’t seem to clear her head. Had she fallen asleep? She heard someone humming the oddest tune in another room. Who? Wyatt or Wade? She didn’t think either of them was responsible for the strange sound. Who then?
She for
ced her eyes open, though they felt heavy. Finding it hard to focus, she wasn’t sure where she was.
“We’re here with you, Mackenzie,” Wade’s whisper comforted her. “Everything is going to be okay, sweetheart.”
Taking a deep breath, her mind cleared. “My hands are tied to something.”
“Shh, love,” Wyatt instructed. “We don’t want him to know you’re awake.”
“Who?”
“Winters. He used heavy-duty duct tape to restrain each of us to a chair. Wade and I know a thing or two about restraints and how to get them off quickly. Comes with the job of being a Dom.”
She tried to move her hands and feet. No luck. Her wrists and ankles were attached firmly to the heavy wooden frame of the chair.
“Trust us. We’ll get you out of this,” Wade said.
“My tape is loosening,” Wyatt added. “I just need a little more time.”
She turned to where Wyatt’s voice came from and gasped. His face was bloodied, and his eyes were swollen. His was taped to a chair just as she was. Next to him was his twin, in the same condition. “Oh God. What happened?”
“The pie. It wasn’t from Danielle. It was from Malcolm. He drugged it.”
“That I did,” the evil man said from behind her. “Got the idea from a movie, though that one was chocolate and had another ingredient in it. I considered that component, but to suit my purposes, Rohypnol was best.”
Had he heard about Wade and Wyatt’s plan? She prayed not, turning her head in the kidnapper’s direction.
With a large knife in hand, Malcolm Winters stood a few feet from her next to a chair holding another man, also tied up. The poor soul’s face looked in far worse condition than her cowboys’.
“I guess no introduction is necessary for this guy.” Malcom smiled her way.
“Trent?” She couldn’t even recognize him. “Trent, talk to me.”
No response. He looked completely thrashed. His arms were covered with scabs and scars, like he’d been burned or cut repeatedly.
“He’s alive, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Winters patted her brother’s head like he was a pet dog. “This guy’s constitution is something to behold. I’ve never had a subject endure so much before. Amazing.”
Utter dread and disgust swept away the last of the drug’s effects inside her. She knew too well what was going on and what the likely outcome of this fucked-up mess was going to be. She just stared at Trent, feeling the weight of her failure to save him. “What have you done to him?”
“Anything and everything my heart desired, bitch.”