Remember Me (Broken Heroes 6)

A man appears at the bottom of the steps, and the scream I’ve been holding in the entire time rips from my throat. Leaping up the steps, I run as fast as I can for the bedroom door. If I can just put a wall or two between us. My fingers graze the doorknob when a heavy body slams into me, shoving me face-first into the wood.

With a swoosh the air leaves my lungs, and I struggle against the burly man.

“You’re so feisty,” the man purrs in my ear, his meaty fingers digging into my wrist as he secures my hands behind my back. I fight against him thrashing this way and that, most likely doing myself more harm than him.

“Let me go,” I demand, and stomp on his foot.

Hauling me back against his chest, he laughs, but it’s not a joking laugh, it’s a vicious laugh tinted with darkness, and it sends a tendril of fear down my spine. His breath fans against my cheek, the smell of tobacco tickling my nose, and I turn my face away from him before I barf everywhere.

“Do you know Luke, sweetheart?” I clam up immediately, who are these men, and how do they know Luke? The fucker laughs again, “I’m going to assume so…” He trails off, a Russian accent lacing his words.

I try with all my might to twist out of his hold, but I’m not nearly strong enough, and within seconds I’m placed on the floor, face down, the burly asshole’s knee digging into my lower back. Another man appears at the top of the steps, and I lift my cheek from the floor, noticing the man is just as big and scary as the one holding me.

They exchange words, and before I can even blink my hands and feet are bound. I’m rolled over to my back and forced to face my assailant.

“So pretty.” He murmurs, running a finger down the side of my face. I snarl and snap my teeth at him. The bastard merely smiles and lifts his beady eyes to his partner, they exchange words once more, and the second guy appears in front of me a roll of duct tape in his hand.

“He’ll find you, he will come for me,” I scream, struggling against the zip ties. The plastic digs into my wrists as the fear inside me mounts.

“That’s the point, sweetheart.” The man with the duct tape says as he rips a piece off with his teeth. A knot of fear has started to form in my stomach, and when he brings the strip of tape toward me, I hiss, fighting him like a murderous cat.

I’m subdued easily, and the tape is placed over my lips, muffling my screams.

“This is going to hurt,” one of the men says, and before I can react, I see the butt of a gun coming down on my head, the entire world fading to dark in an instant.

14

Luke

The job is finished in under three hours, and I’m giddy with excitement to return home to my lovely wife. Fuck. It feels so strange to be calling Grace my wife. I thought for sure it would take an exceptional amount of time to convince her to be my wife, but she surprised the hell out of me by begging me to marry her when we were in Vegas.

And though I shouldn’t have, I couldn’t help myself. I pull into the driveway and immediately know something horribly bad has happened. Slamming on the brakes I barely get the thing into park before I’m exiting the vehicle, my hands shaking, and my stomach churning with fear.

I walk up the steps, and enter the house, without hesitation I pull my gun out as I step over the threshold. All the lights are off, but the night sky shining through the window is giving me enough light to see where I’m going. Things are scattered on the kitchen counter, left like she vanished, like she was taken. I force those thoughts away. I need a clear head.

The house is silent, too silent. As I do a walk through, I notice a broken window. What the fuck happened to the alarm system? The alarm should have gone off. Anger runs through me, claiming every fiber of my body. I grind my teeth together so harshly I can hear the cracking of teeth inside my head.

Entering each room, a silent prayer runs through my mind. Please let her be okay. Please don’t let her be hurt.

I scan the whole house once, then a second time. Nothing. She isn’t here. Fuck!

Grabbing my cell from my back pocket, I realize that my hand is shaking. I don’t remember ever having shaky hands before. With trembling fingers, I dial Xander’s number. Each dial tone seems like another eternity.

When he finally answers, he only gets out the first letter of my name before I yell into the phone, “Someone took Grace, from my house, they took her…”