Calamity Jena (Invertary 4)

Grunt could feel his muscles start to swell with the urge to hit. To pummel. “She’s not a toy. She’s mine.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You might have mentioned that a time or two, subtle like.”

Grunt leaned in towards his oldest friend until he was in the guy’s face. Joe didn’t back off. Joe never backed off. The idiot had more guts than sense. “She’s mine. As in, she’s the one. This is my last job. I’m moving here. Gonna talk to the security guy, Benson, about a job. I don’t want to screw things up with her family. Her cop brother isn’t going to understand this. She’s close with him.”

Joe threw up his hands in clear exasperation. “Great. No problem. You win. We don’t want to damage your precious relationship. What were we thinking?” Grunt growled at the sarcasm, but stilled when Joe pulled out his phone. “I’ll call Frank and tell him it’s off.” His disgust was clear, but at least he was making the call.

He slid his finger over the screen of his phone then held it to his ear, all the while glaring at Grunt.

“Boss,” Joe said when Frank answered. “We’re abandoning the plan. We’ll find another way for you to talk to Jena.”

There was shouting, but Grunt couldn’t make out the words. He watched as Joe’s jaw clenched tight. Not a good sign.

“We think this is a sure way to get the cop on your ass,” Joe said.

A pause.

“I know you don’t care about the cop, but you might change your mind when you’re locked up tight in a Scottish jail.” Another pause. Joe’s grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles were white. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he told Frank. From the look on his face, it was far from a good idea. “Give me a minute.”

He hit mute and turned to Grunt. Grunt knew he wasn’t going to like what Joe had to say.

“He’s going to lift her himself. He says he’s fed up with this shit. He’s going to tie her up, toss her in the trunk of his car and drive her to the continent. He says if she resists, he’s gonna show her who’s boss.”

Grunt felt everything within him still. “Tell him we’ll be there soon.”

Joe nodded grimly. He tapped the phone. “It’s on. We’ll text when we’re on our way.” He hung up on Frank shouting.

“That guy is on borrowed time,” Grunt said.

“Yeah, but while he is, we’re stuck dealing with his crap.” Joe gave Grunt a grim look. “Guess we’re taking Jena for a ride after all.”

Grunt didn’t say anything, because there was nothing to say.

They sat in a heavy silence staring down the alley. Twenty minutes later, the back door of the hardware store opened and Jena stepped out. She was carrying a bag of trash. She shouted something over her shoulder and shook her head with a grin. Grunt’s heart sank like the Titanic.

“Showtime.” Joe opened the van door.

With a grunt, Grunt followed him. There was no going back. They were committed. What was that saying—better to ask forgiveness than permission? He hoped Claire knew that one. And he hoped she was just as forgiving as he thought she was. Because he was seconds away from kidnapping her brother’s girlfriend.

The alley behind Invertary high street didn’t smell like any of the alleys Jena had been in around Atlantic City. Gone were the scents of rotting garbage, stale urine and sweaty bodies. Instead it smelled of dry earth, crisp air and card

board. Jena inhaled deeply and smiled. Her eyes were drawn to the green hills that cradled the town. Being able to see them was like taking a breath. She wondered if she would ever take the beauty for granted. The closest she’d come to it in the States was when she’d walked along Atlantic City’s famous boardwalk with her attention on the waves. For a girl who grew up surrounded by concrete and neon, the peace that came with nature was a welcome surprise.

With a bounce and a grin, she threw open the heavy black lid to the Dumpster and lobbed the trash bag inside.

A hand covered her mouth. Jena’s heart nearly burst through her chest. Her brain froze.

Another arm wrapped around her waist. She gasped for air in staccato pants. Spots appeared in the corners of her vision. She was losing consciousness. She fought to slow her breathing. To calm herself.

Her feet left the ground.

She screamed, but the sound was muffled.

She was moving. Fast. Through the air. A solid wall of muscle at her back. Her brain started to work again. Kidnapped. She was being taken.

She sucked in air through her nose. The spicy scent of male flesh filled her mind.

She kicked.