“You think I’m perfect?” He did meet her gaze then—astonishment, mixed with admiration, lit his handsome face. “Well, I think you’re kind of perfect too.”
“Really?” All she wanted to do at that moment was crawl into his lap and kiss him senseless. Alex would have too, except a knock on the front door interrupted her. Her gaze darted from the front door to Hunter then back again, her heart skipping in her chest. “Expecting someone?”
He scowled, whispering. “No.”
Holding up a finger for silence, he got up and walked into the living room, sticking close to the walls as he made his way over to the windows beside the door. When he lifted the curtains and peeked out, his frown only increased. He looked back at Alex and shook his head.
“What?” she mouthed. “No one’s there?”
Hunter shook his head, giving her a look that screamed stay-where-you-are. He quickly skirted his way back toward the kitchen then on toward the hallway, whispering as he passed her, “I need to get my gun. It’s in the master bedroom. Stay put and don’t let anyone in until I get back. Understand?”
Alex nodded fast. She grabbed her table knife like a weapon, her gaze locked on the front door. If the sex boss or his thugs tried to break in, she’d jab them in the eye with her knife, dammit. The thing wasn’t sharp, but it could do some damage to soft tissue if landed the right way. She wasn’t exactly an expert in self-defense, but she’d had training in martial arts for some of her roles and s
he’d paid attention. She could take care of herself, if she needed to. At least she hoped she could. Those skills had never been put to the test in reality.
She could hear Hunter chamber a round in his gun in the bedroom and relaxed slightly. At least until she heard the knob on the back door in the kitchen jiggle. Oh shit! Whoever had knocked was trying to get in a different way. Definitely not a salesman then, or anyone else reputable.
Heart thudding loud in her ears, Alex slid from her seat and inched toward the living room, doing her best not to panic, yet unable to stop shaking. “Hunter?” she called, hoping he heard her weak voice. “Hunter, get out here. Someone’s trying to get in the back.”
“What?” he said, moving back toward her down the hall, gun in hand just as all hell broke loose. The front door shattered as it was kicked in. At the same time, the back door crashed open and one of the huge thug bodyguards from Club Excite stepped into the kitchen.
Hunter fired at the thug in the living room, but his shot went wide, pinging off the wall. The guard lunged at him and they slammed to the floor in a flurry of punches and curses. Meanwhile, Alex had swiveled to face the new arrival in the kitchen, table knife in her shaky hand as she backed slowly away. “Don’t even think about touching me, you asshole. I swear to God I’ll shove this fucking thing through your temple and straight into your sorry excuse for brains.”
Yeah, it was a line from one of her old movies, but it seemed appropriate.
The thug stared at her then shook his head. “Ain’t nobody touching you but the boss. We got orders.”
“The boss?” Alex turned fast as a hand closed painfully on her shoulder. “Don’t touch me!”
“Alex?” Hunter yelled. “Get away from her, you filthy piece of shit!”
He landed a nasty right hook into the thug’s left kidney and the sickening sound of cracking bone filled the air. Alex swallowed hard against the rising bile in her throat and fixed the sex boss with her best fearsome glare.
“Take your hands off me, before I remove them for you. Permanently.”
The boss laughed. Honest to God, he fucking laughed at her threat and Alex kicked him hard. She went for his nuts, but their height difference and his gut sticking out in front of him had her blow landing somewhere around his mid-thigh instead. He swore and stumbled slightly, but kept his tight grip on her arm. There’d definitely be bruises from that later, but it was the least of her concerns.
“You’re coming with me, you little bitch,” the boss said, dragging her toward the door while Hunter—who’d managed to shake off his attacker and get to his feet—was jumped from behind and tackled to the floor again. “I like you a whole lot better without that godawful wig and glasses too. You’ll fetch a nice price on the black market. Blondes always sell well.”
“Stop it!” Alex fought against him, managing to land a few hits to his head and chest, but overall she was outsized and out muscled. “Put me down!”
The boss had now picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes as he headed back out the front door. Neighbors were standing around pointing and whispering, but no one tried to help her. Jesus. This was like her worst nightmare come to life. Were these people so used to violence on their streets that it meant nothing to them anymore? As the boss opened the trunk of a black unmarked sedan and shoved Alex inside, she caught the eye of one of the women watching the whole thing unfold and she knew. It wasn’t that these people were immune to the violence. It was that they were scared. Scared the violence might turn on them too. So they did nothing.
Alex screamed and tried to escape as the boss slammed the trunk closed on her, leaving her in utter darkness. Where was Hunter? Was he alive? Would he rescue her in time? The yells of the boss outside, telling the crowd to go home, nothing to see here, followed by the roar of the engine and jostle as they backed out of the driveway, had her heart sinking.
The last thing Alex heard as they pulled away in a screech of tires was Hunter’s voice yelling her name from somewhere close by, then nothing as the rumble of the roadway took over everything else.
13
Think, Alex. Think.
She swallowed hard against the disorientation and adrenaline-fueled fear constricting her throat and forced herself to calm. She’d been in this situation before. Not in real life, but for one of her campy, B-list movie roles. Grit, Guns, and Glory or some other idiotic name they’d given it. The film had not even had a theatrical run, going straight to DVD, but it had taught Alex some particular skills—namely how to escape from the trunk of a car. Her character in the movie, a bimbo with a heart of gold named Glory Hill, had been abducted by the bad guys and needed to escape or be killed. Alex snorted in the dark confines of the trunk, wrinkling her nose at the hint of burning rubber, motor oil, and mildew in the air. Never would’ve guessed life would imitate art quite so closely.
Wriggling around, Alex managed to trace her sock-covered toes along the side of the trunk, feeling for the corner. In the prop vehicle they’d used for the movie, there’d been an emergency safety release lever near the rear tail light. It was a federal requirement for all vehicles made in the US after 2002. Usually they glowed in the dark, but when she squinted through the gloom, Alex didn’t see anything. Great.
The car bumped over a pothole or curb or something and knocked her head against the trunk lid. Alex cursed and rubbed her sore scalp. “Ow!”
Well, crap. Maybe this car was older than 2002. Or maybe the sex boss had ripped out the emergency release lever, considering Alex probably wasn’t the first person he’d locked in here. Her toes sank into a slight depression in the rough carpet she was laying on and she pressed harder with her foot. Must be the tail light. If she could pull the carpet away and kick the thing out, then at least she could try and alert someone that she was in here.