The van lurches, then revs as it speeds up. I've missed my chance.
We turn, then turn again. I try to remember which directions. Isn't that what they do in the movies to figure out where the kidnappers went?
It goes on for far too long, and I lose count pretty quickly. Even still, I keep tracking the turns. Besides, without knowing where I started, it's useless, but I need something to keep my mind from melting down.
Then we're slowing. Something mechanical grinds ahead of us, and we come to a full stop.
“All right,” snaps King over the sound of car doors opening. “Let's get her out. Quickshot's going to drop off the van and ride back with Viking. No time like the present.” And no doubt who's in charge of the operation.
“Sir, yes, sir!” yells Wild Child, followed by a laugh.
“Fuck off.”
The van rocks. Someone's right in front of me. Maybe it's their breathing, or body heat, or that soft scrape of a boot on metal, but I know they're right there. I try to think of something clever, but my mind is doing panicked laps like a chicken on fire. The next thing I know, the blindfold is lifted.
God, the light hurts.
I shut my eyes tight and let out a dismayed whimper. When I finally manage to open them again, I find a pair of eyes so close that our noses are nearly touching.
With a squeak that echoes off the metal interior, I jump, or as much as I can. My bound wrists strain a moment and I go nowhere.
I've seen those eyes before. Dark, soulful eyes I could drown in. Haunted. Intense and free. But now, they're hard as rocks, and terrifying.
It's the biker with the superhero jaw.
3
EMILY
“You!” I try to recoil from him, but there's nowhere to go.
When he realizes I recognize him, his lips twitch like he's pleased—just for a moment, long enough to flash his teeth—and then his face returns to stone. Maybe it's just my situation, but his canines look sharp, like a predator's.
He takes a step back, revealing the other two guys.I recognize them immediately as the guy with the purple streak in his hair and the guy with the amazing beard. They’re still gorgeous, but it's like having the lions break out of their cage at the zoo. Amazing at a distance, but now they're in here with me. And they're looking at me like I'm a tasty piece of raw meat.
“Us,” says Superhero Jaw, his voice flat and pegging him as King. It suits him. “Surprised? We couldn't miss how you were drooling over us, even through the tinted windows. We just figured we'd give you another opportunity.”
They didn't seriously kidnap me out of some strange form of seduction, did they? I know bikers are crazy, but that's over the top. Though it sure makes a girl feel wanted, in a creepy, not at all reasonable sort of way.
“She's even hotter in person,” says the one with the purple streak in his hair and the freaky tattoos. He flicks a lock out of his eyes and can't be anyone but Wild Child. He crouches and puts his back to the wall of the van. His right foot taps a staccato on the floor as he looks me up and down, leering all the way. “We should just keep her. Show her what life on the wild side is like.”
I shudder at the implication. Normally having a guy like him call me hot would be like the nerdy girl getting asked to prom by the star quarterback, but when I was dreaming of them taking me away from my old life, drugged and tied up in the back of the van wasn't what I had in mind.
And even still, the chill that rushes through me isn't all unpleasant. Like, in just about any other situation, I'd be interested to hear what he had to say. The indecent tattoos that wrap themselves up his arms are full conversation pieces in themselves. Dad never let me near anyone who could get me in that kind of trouble, if you know what I mean, but I bet Wild Child would be plenty happy to teach me.
God, what am I even thinking? I need to get out of here, and I can't show weakness. These guys will eat me alive, and not in the good way. Bedtime comes back to me in a flash, and I hope it's dark enough in the van that they don't see me blush. How am I supposed to negotiate with guys I was fantasizing about only a few hours ago? I must still be riding the aftershocks, when I should be worrying about how to get home.
“Let me go.” Tied like I am, it's hard to straighten to any kind of height, even if I had any, but I do my best. Hopefully, I'm the only one who hears the quaver in my voice. “You don't even have to drive me home. I won't tell anyone. They'll never find you.”