A Million Different Ways to Lose You (Horn Duet 2)

“Do you think he’ll follow?” Alex finally asked after a solid fifteen minutes of heavy silence. The look on my face had probably warned him to keep his mouth shut.

“No.”

No, he wouldn’t…not after my implied threat. Sebastian knew that one more broken promise, one more perceived breach of trust would have ended our relationship for good. And I had used it against him. Rage ran through me. At myself, at life. All I wanted was a quiet life with the man I loved, but there was always an obstacle thrown in our way, the universe conspiring to make it impossible.

“Are you getting a divorce? Why aren’t you living with him?” The muscles in my legs were weak from trudging trough the snow. It was still falling steadily, all the roads in the city eerily deserted.

“Because of you, thank you very much,” I snapped. That wasn’t entirely true. Though for reasons I couldn’t explain, I wanted to hurt Alek. I wanted to make him feel as bad as Sebastian was feeling right now. “And no, we aren’t getting divorced if I can help it. He’s the only man I ever really loved. The only one that’s ever really loved me.” I stole a sideways glance to see if my bullets had hit their intended mark. Sharp, scruff covered jaw tight. Lips pursed in a straight line. My success only managed to make me feel worse.

“I don’t know why you seem to think I’m the villain here.”

“That little stunt you pulled…” Alek’s expression was completely blank. “With the lip biting, almost worked…almost,” I explained, my tone caustic enough to burn.

He turned then, grabbing my arm to stop me. “I spent years looking for you. Beating myself up for leaving you there.” The tortured look on his face did nothing for me, not even a sliver of sympathy did it evoke.

I continued walking, the snow as treacherous as quicksand. The effort it took to pull my legs out of it with each step was getting to me. And then…finally. I spotted the train station up ahead. My anger with Alek faded away. My heart was suddenly stuck in my throat. I swallowed, but it remained exactly where it was.

That’s why I didn’t scream, why I couldn’t scream when a sudden, overpowering force hit me from behind and pulled me out of the snow, almost out of my boots…and off the street. The next thing I remember was a sack being placed over my head. The smell of gasoline and cow shit…and something else, some other…chemical. Then nothing, only absolute black.

Untethered, I drifted on a dark and dangerous sea––a sea of fear. Then a jolt, my body jostled. Curved in a fetal position, it pressed against metal, not smooth but ridged. Then, pain. A lot of pain, in my shoulder, my head, my legs. It grew stronger as I slowly ascended from the depths of hell I was visiting only moments ago, back to consciousness, back to the hell I would be experiencing in reality.

The smell of gasoline and cow crap made me nauseous. My stomach heaved. I tried to take shallow breaths, but that only made me hyperventilate. I coughed and coughed, vomit rising up with it.

“She’s going to throw up, take that thing off,” said a distressed voice––a familiar one. The fumes were making me so lightheaded I couldn’t remember how I knew it.

“Give her another shot. Knock her out again. We have another two hours to go.” A Russian accent? The needle stung…and then I faded away.

Someone was slapping my face. I winced. Slap, slap, slap in rapid succession. I winced again, my face screwed up in protest. Still foggy from the drugs, I didn’t have it in me to even muster the appropriate amount of fear. I knew two things for certain: I had just been kidnapped, and I had been transported to God knows where.

The pain was everywhere––and intolerable. There was so much of it the slap on my cheek was more of an annoyance in comparison. A mosquito buzzing in my ear. Except that mosquito was probably two hundred pounds and armed to the teeth. My eyes cracked open. Realizing the room was dark, they ventured open all the way. It took me a minute to examine my surroundings.

I was alone, lying on a dirty floor. No Alek. And no sign of the man who had slapped me, and a man it definitely had been.

A stab of fear pierced my heart. Was he taken as well, or did they dispose of him right away? Alek was an intellectual––not a fighter. I wasn’t certain he’d ever been in a fist fight once in his entire life; he could talk himself so brilliantly out of any trouble that he didn’t have to raise his fists.

Composure. I needed to keep my composure and gather information. I was in a house. Dark, and dirty, and dank. Dilapidated. Windows covered up with sheets. Abandoned. The few pieces of furniture were either broken or covered with inches of dust and dirt. I was sitting on a wood floor stained with oil and….was that blood? The singing of birds drew my attention to the covered windows. The house was in a wooded area. Maybe a forest?