I was nearly incapacitated with the onslaught of panic. My breathing became quick and shallow, my pulse pounding in my throat painfully.
I was being driven to Frank. There was no way I could escape this time, and Ryder would be frantic, not knowing where I was. He wouldn’t be able to ride up on his motorcycle and save me this time. There would be no near miss. This was it.
An acute, painfully poignant longing made my heart ache. I knew that I wouldn’t see him again. It was like my soul cried out, shaking me clear through my bones.
The image of Ryder’s rough-hewn features, his pale green eyes smiling down at me, came to mind. Remembering his tender words of love squeezed my heart, making it difficult to breathe. I struggled to pull air in to my lungs and squeezed my eyes shut, needing to hold his face in my mind and heart. Regrets clawed at me painfully from inside my own mind. The last time Ryder and I were together, he’d told me he loved me, and I’d been too afraid to say it back. Fear. Why had I allowed it to rule my life? I could see the yawning chasm of what my life had been, the careful distance I’d kept from everyone around me, how I’d never sought out deep or meaningful relationships before. I’d always looked on others with suspicion, keeping them at a distance, and it had been to my own detriment. I’d lost out. I could see that.
Why had I questioned and doubted until my opportunity to grab hold of something good and whole was gone? I loved him. It was so clear. Why was it so clear now, when I would never have the chance to tell him? Coming to this deeply meaningful realization at a point when I could do nothing about it struck me as horribly unfair. Fate had handed me shit cards for too long!
Silent sobs beat against my chest from beneath my breasts, wanting to come out. No noise. None. I don’t want them to hear me. Oh, God. Please!
I wanted the chance to tell him. I wanted the chance to begin a life with him, so I could start a new chapter, a new adventure. I wanted to know happiness. I wanted to understand the intimacy of trusting another with my innermost self. I wanted it.
Life had sucked for so long! Abandonment, grief, unrelenting hard work, no love, no friends, not a soft place to speak of, and just when I was ready to explore this new and beautiful relationship, I was going to be killed. I’d had to work twice as hard to get half as far, and I’d been willing to do it, but where was the payoff? Where was the goddamn payoff! Didn’t I deserve a payoff? Wasn’t it my turn to win? Just once?
Dammit! It was my turn, and I was going to take it.
I wasn’t dead yet. I didn’t know how long I’d been out or how long I had before we arrived at our destination, but I needed to think.
Anger replaced my grief, and I felt rage at the injustice sweep through me. I stopped feeling sorry for myself and began taking stock of what I might be able to do to get out of this mess. I remembered my badassness. I’d never relied on anyone else to get me out of trouble, and this time was not going to be different. Though I’d never sparred before, I had enough confidence in my kickboxing abilities that I was sure I could knock somebody’s block off, at least long enough to run away efficiently. I hadn’t taken those classes with Rico for nothing.
Don’t forget. You come from a proud Brausiian warrior, Taylor. The words were a faint whisper in my mind. It sounded like Dreya, but could she communicate from so far away? I listened intently once again and heard nothing but the tires on the road, rhythmically spinning.
Mylunate!
How did the stupid mylunate work? Was it still on my toe? Ryder hadn’t taken it from me. He’d told me to hold on to it because of the danger that surrounded me, but what to do with it? How did it work? There’d been warnings, precautionary rules or something.
I tried to think back to the night he’d told me about it. It seemed that you had to try to imagine a place to go, but there were restrictions, weren’t there? How much and how far—and things from that night were fuzzy because of the alcohol. Damn! Cynthia had also given me information, but I was so uncertain. What was the worst that could happen? I hadn’t really found that out.
And what about Paul? Was he there too? Could I just leave him without trying to help? He was a nice man trying to do a good thing. Could I live with myself if I didn’t try to find him? I could always find my way out of wherever they were taking me and send for help. But who knew what might happen if they got me fully enclosed in some space?
The van jerked to a stop sooner than I’d anticipated, while my thoughts were still contradicting each other.
A meaty grip took hold of my arm. My survival instinct kicked in.
With as much strength as I could muster, I reared up on my left knee and did a roundhouse kick that would have made Rico proud. My foot connected solidly with a mouth, knocking Crew Cut off of me long enough that I could jump out of the van and run.
Ignoring the stabbing pain from my kicking foot, I jammed on the speed and ran up what looked like a long driveway, trying to go all out despite the fact that my arms were behind me.
My breathing was harsh and heavy. Adrenaline roared in my ears. I only made it fifteen yards before I was tackled from behind. A heavy body slammed into me, and I felt the air leave my lungs in a whoosh. I landed hard, smacking my head against the ground in a whiplash effect. Stinging pain stabbed my body, and hitting my head scrambled my brain for a moment.
“She’s a live one, is she?” The amused British tones carried on the breeze, clear as a bell, to where I lay under one of my attackers. My right shoulder and arm throbbed, my forehead stung and I could feel a trickle of what was probably blood dripping down my temple. The sting of failure was sharp. Lying on the ground, breathing through the pain, I saw that the van was parked in front of a Mediterranean-style mansion, likely somewhere in Malibu or Pacific Palisades or something. I hadn’t even made it halfway up the driveway. Was the hidden mylunate cavern nearby?
“Damn it. Another tooth,” I heard Crew Cut snarl somewhere behind me. “Someone’s gonna pay.”
“Back off, Pen. You’ll be paid well enough to get your teeth fixed and then some.” Frank’s silky tones turned steely. “Bring her inside. We have work to do.”
Baldy got off me, grabbed my arm and yanked me upright. Stabbing pain shot through my foot and shoulder, and the world seemed a bit off-kilter, and then I was being shoved toward the sliding glass door of a large estate where Frank, aka Ranik, stood in all his silver-maned glory, wearing yet another sharp, sleek suit. He was large, and he emanated a feeling of power and dominance.
“Why am I here?” I asked shakily, but he said nothing, gave me a silky smile and led the way in. With a feeling of pleasure and satisfaction absolutely spilling from him, Pen shoved me inside. I nearly tripped over my own feet.
My heels clicked against the shiny marble floor. I was pushed through a high-tech entertainment room, a state-of-the-art kitchen and a dining room. Our final destination was just beyond there, through an archway into a sunroom. A luxurious seating area faced the backyard, which was visible through two sets of double glass doors that ran the length of the wall. The juxtaposition was odd—my heart-pounding fright against the calm infinity pool shimmering in the background, like a macabre vacation scene or the setting for a horror movie.
“We’ve brought you a friend,” Frank, who was leading the way, called into the last room we entered. His voice tinkled lightly across the air, as though he were saying something humorous.
That’s when I saw him.
“Taylor?”
“Paul!” I couldn’t help the horrified tone of my voice. Someone had gone to town on his face. He did not look well. His flesh was swollen and purple to the point of being unrecognizable, blood smeared on the floor around his feet. Tied to a straight-backed wooden chair, his arms looked pulled to the straining point and likely numb in that position.