Jardin's Gamble (Haven, Texas 9) - Page 40

No one was saving her.

Why hadn’t she told anyone where she was going? Why hadn’t she just taken a minute to send a text to Carrick?

Well, likely because he would have made you wait for him and you didn’t want him to see your secret shame.

But that seemed inconsequential now when she was faced with her own demise. What would happen to the boys if she died? They’d be put into foster care. Would they be split up?

Fear flooded her. So sharp and consuming she wondered how she managed to keep moving, breathing.

“Get in the car, bitch and don’t give me any more trouble.” This guy’s breath stank of garlic and onions and it made her stomach roll over. “The boss don’t like to be kept waiting. He told me to bring you in alive, but he won’t much care what state you’re in.”

With no other choice, she slid into the back of the car. The man in the front seat didn’t bother to turn around. As soon as the goon with the gun slid in, the car took off.

She didn’t bother wit

h her seat belt, wasn’t much point.

“Hand over your bag.”

She wanted to hold onto it. To open the door and throw herself out. Except she was pretty sure that would end badly for her. So, instead she handed over her bag. He started pawing through it. He grabbed her phone, checking it over then pulled out her wallet, opening it up and tipping it upside down. It only had a bank card, her ID and a few coins in it.

“Appreciate it if you left my tampons alone,” she told him. “I’m going to need them soon.”

“Shut up, bitch.”

Yeah, that was probably good advice to follow.

After he’d gone through her bag, he threw it on the floor of the car. She reached for it but he pushed her back.

“You’ll get it back if the boss says it’s all right. Not before. Now sit the fuck still before I start to lose my patience.”

Asshole.

They drove for another ten minutes before pulling up outside a corrugated iron fence. Where were they? The driver lowered his window and waved his hand at someone. Then they were driving slowly forward.

There wasn’t much light other than the car’s headlights, but it was enough to show the stacked piles of flattened cars.

A junk yard.

Oh, she didn’t need to be a genius to know it wasn’t good. Not good at all.

“What are we doing here?” she asked as the car came to a stop.

The jerk next to her let out a cackling laugh that raised the hairs on her arms. “Like I told you, bitch. We got a meeting with the boss. Word of advice, he don’t like it when you talk back to him.”

Oh, God. She was done for.

9

The asshole with a gun dragged her toward the shipping container in front of them. It looked like it had been converted into an office because they stopped in front of a proper door. She didn’t know what happened to the driver, he must have stayed with the car. Hopefully, he was hunting down her tampons for her.

Jesus, Thea, you need to stop worrying about tampons. You have bigger concerns here.

Besides, if this got any freaking scarier it wasn’t tampons she was going to need but a Depend, because she was close to peeing herself. The door opened and the asshole shoved her forward. She tripped over the threshold in the doorway and fell onto her hands and knees.

With a groan, she rolled onto her bottom, cradling her hand to her chest. Shit. Fuck. That hurt so much. The jerk laughed.

Douchebag.

Tags: Laylah Roberts Haven, Texas Erotic
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