“Shh, no screaming. You scream, I shoot your boyfriend in the throat, that’s how this works.”
My heart plummets.
We’ve traded places now. I’m the one with my back to the hooded figure and Lance backs closer to the wall.
Lance is tall, taller than the other guy, but I’m not. I’m smaller and easier to control, I guess, because he was pretty hands-off with Lance, but now that he has a hold of me, he’s a lot more touchy feely. Mostly he’s just holding me back against him, but rather than point the gun at my temple, he drags the barrel down my chest until it rests right between my cleavage.
“That’s a nice dress you’re wearing there, sweetheart.”
Oh my god oh my god oh my god.
Nodding at Lance, he asks, “What’s your name?”
“Lance.”
“Lance. You’ve got a nice little girlfriend here, Lance. Do you mind if I cop a feel?”
“Um…” Lance has never been this uncomfortable. I have. “I… I don’t… She’s not really my girlfriend.”
“No?” the guy behind me asks, his voice rising with the kind of interest that makes me immediately sure he is an asshole. Just an absolute asshole. This isn’t some tweaker looking for a fix, he’s not some sloppy half-assed criminal. There’s a cockiness to him.
Lance avoids my gaze and shakes his head.
“Mind if I take her, then?” the guy asks.
“What?” I shriek, but my voice is muffled beneath his hand.
That’s when it hits me. I see ink on his fingers covering my mouth, and it’s ink I’ve seen before. I noticed it the other day when he was installing a lock on my door.
“That’s fucking sheisty,” he says.
John? He said his name was John, but maybe that wasn’t true.
“You see this, sweetheart? This little prick is ready to let me carry you off and do all sorts of nasty shit to you? You know I’m into nasty shit, right?” he asks Lance.
Poor Lance is out of his depths here. He looks lost. He doesn’t know what this guy wants to hear.
“Tie you up,” he says, taking the gun out of my cleavage and pointing it at Lance’s kneecap. “Make you scream.”
Thwip.
Lance shouts. I try to, too, because this fucking lunatic just shot him in the knee.
“Oh my god!” I try to scream, fighting like hell to get away from him, but it’s like trying to break apart stone. This guy is solid and completely unshakable as he starts to drag me backward.
“Now, you quiet down and let me take your pretty little ass to the car or I’ll take the other one, too.”
“Please,” I cry frantically against his hand, tears springing to my eyes.
My heart is hammering so wildly, I’m afraid it will burst out of my chest. I can’t think fast enough to formulate words, but even if I could, I’m not sure I could get them out.
I hear Lance wailing and swearing so I try to look back at him as the dark figure hauls me away.
“Don’t know why you bother,” he says casually, as if he didn’t just shoot someone. “Fucker was fine to let me rape you, so I don’t see why you’d care if I fired one measly bullet into his leg. Could’ve been a lot worse. I could’ve shot him dead.”
“Why are you doing this?” I cry out against his hand.
“Keep walking or I go back and finish the job. Don’t fucking test me on this, Hallie. I don’t have patience for bullshit.”
My blood freezes when he says my name. I realize of course he knows my name, he’s the man who came and changed my lock, but how the hell did changing my locks lead to this? It’s not like he spotted anything valuable in my apartment and thought maybe I had money.
Unless he saw the gown and the box of things from Calvin and got the wrong idea.
“Look, I’m not rich. I don’t have any money. Nothing I own is worth stealing. You’ve made a mistake.”
The car waiting at the end of the alley is a black Escalade. He opens the door and shoves me inside. I hit the ground palms first with my feet still on the sidewalk. He grabs my hips and hauls me back on my ass as he climbs in after me.
I’m sprawled gracelessly on the floor of the vehicle when he reaches over and closes the door.
“Go,” he says.
The car starts rolling forward, then swerves as we get back on the road.
I push myself up and sit on my butt on the floor, looking around in utter confusion. I thought this guy was a locksmith, but the back of this Escalade is decked out like a luxury airplane cabin. I turn around slowly, gazing at the massive TV screen, the iPad screens on the walls, the… security camera bubbles?
Where the hell am I?
Tentatively, I turn to look back at the man. His hood is pulled down now and he’s tugging off a balaclava he wore under it just to be safe.