Imminent Danger (Adrenaline Highs) (21 page)

“Hey, it’s one thing to mess with her a little, but we should just shut her up permanently now. If she starts saying the wrong thing to the wrong person, it’s going to come back on us and, he’s going to cut off our fucking balls.”

“Not if she’s too doped up to know what’s happening.” He gave his friend a slow nod, suggesting something that made her skin crawl even more. “You know where Michael keeps his shit. Go get some. Let’s get this going on.” He pulled his dirty, blue T-shirt out of his pants. “She’s going to bring in a shitload of money. I’m telling you, once she’s flying on Michael’s shit, she’s going to be like all the others.” His fist tightened in her hair.

“I still don’t like it. A witness is a witness. I want to get rid of her.”

“Let’s talk about it afterward, man. Seriously, where you going to find an easier ten grand? Just for handing her over? She’s easily worth that to Michael.” He licked his lips. “I need to have me some of this sweet piece.” He looked down at her, his eyes cold and evil. “You better be really good if you want to survive through the night. Hear that?” He yanked her head for emphasis and Abbey’s eyes burned from the sting. Fear pounded through her bloodstream like hot lava and she broke out in a cold sweat. Tears pricked her eyes.

His partner thought about it and nodded. “Fine, but I don’t plan to change my mind.”

“So go get the shit already.” He moved behind her, but kept his fist in her hair with her head all the way back. “You ready to get a taste of your new life?” A new sick wave of fear crashed in on her. He looked at his buddy. “What are you waiting for?” he asked, his dispassionate gaze cold. “Go get Michael’s stash.”

Without saying a word, his buddy left.

“We’re gonna get dirty now, bitch.” He circled to the front.

Dirty.
The word took her back nine years to a nightmare she couldn’t get rid of.

He bent like he might kiss her, but instead he slipped his hands under her armpits, lifted her and tossed her back on the bed. He took out the knife he’d talked about and shoved it toward her. “Remember what I said about this. If I were you, I’d keep quiet.” He sliced the restraints on her ankles. The initial tightening had her gasping at the burn. “Although it’s not like anyone on the grounds will give a shit. They all know what’s happening here.” He leaned close to her ear. “And they aren’t going to give a fuck.”

Her stomach knotted and swirled. “My hands?” she croaked in a rough whisper. “I need my hands free.” She hoped the pen stayed buried in the waistband of her jeans.

“Oh, yeah?” He grabbed her shirtfront and yanked her up. “What do you plan to do with those hands?”

“Whatever you want. Just please don’t hurt me. Don’t cut me. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Yes, you will.” He stroked her jaw. “Yes you will,” he repeated softly. He sliced her restraints and her wrists burned as the plastic slid off. He leaned back, a smug smile across his lips. “Take off your top, real slow,” he told her.

Abbey swallowed hard. She eased her shirt up and over her head and watched his nostrils flare. A sinister grin made her stomach roil. “Please put the knife down. You’re scaring me.”

“I know, pretty. I like you scared.” The blade inched toward her face and he slid the steel along her cheek.

Abbey’s skin prickled with fear. If she didn’t strike now and strike fast, she’d lose her chance. She had to do this before the other guy came back. She rose up on her knees and unbuttoned her jeans. His smile got wider as she eased her hands around back like she meant to push her jeans down.

He turned just a fraction to set the knife on the end table and Abbey reached for the pen in her waistband. She moved as he shifted. She grabbed for his crotch at the same time she plunged the pen in his face. His instant howl and the warm, slippery wetness against her fist gave her fresh confidence. He backhanded her and pain exploded in her head as it snapped to the side, but she cranked harder on his man parts and delivered another blow to his face. This one connected with his eye and he yanked back, ripping the pen from her slippery grip. Scrambling from the bed, she hauled the lamp from the nearby table and swung it like a Louisville slugger. The second before she made contact she saw the damage of her attack. Her pen lodged in his eye and blood covered his face and hands. The lampshade broke apart on contact and took him to the floor. With another precise strike, Abbey hit him again, slamming the hard metal of the lamp against his head. This time he didn’t move.

Breathing hard, Abbey dropped the lamp, her hands shaking violently, her face throbbing.
Run.
The word screamed in her head with a roar. She snatched her shirt from the bed and whipped it on, then hiked her jeans back in place and buttoned up. Hysteria lurked right on the edge and Abbey battled it back. If she didn’t do this now, she might never get the chance. She didn’t see his knife, but she spotted her purse and phone on a scratched dresser near the door and snagged them as she sped by. It took one second to slip her mobile inside her bag and settle it over her head so the strap bisected her chest.

Easing the door open, she checked outside. She was in some kind of outbuilding, but maybe people were too far away to hear anything. A crystal clear pool winked at her in the moonlight. A Jacuzzi sat off the far side of the mammoth property, an estate of some kind. Palm trees swayed in the hot stale air. Several heart-stopping moments later, she stepped out, closed the door softly and ran to the left.

“Hey!” A voice yelled from behind her.

Abbey didn’t look back, she simply ran for her life.

A pop sounded and a bullet slammed into the building wall. Abbey ducked from flying pieces of stucco as more bullets whistled by. A hot sting zipped across her thigh a second before she turned the corner. She bolted catty corner to the row of free-standing buildings like the one she’d come out of and hurdled the low fence that enclosed a small yard. Her lungs burned as she ran. Her arms and legs pumped with everything she had as she tried to negotiate her way in the dark. She scrambled left and then right around another larger guesthouse. She heard men behind her, heard them calling out orders. At least two, maybe three. She turned another corner to a large cement path between two long one-story buildings. The place was more of a compound than an estate. It was enormous. Her panic tripled at the lack of any place to hide. She ran to the nearest door.
Please, let it be open!
It wasn’t. She heard the running footfalls and tried the next door six feet away, tears stinging the backs of her eyes as she yanked on the knob. She stumbled back as the door opened effortlessly, then she jumped in and closed it quickly and quietly behind her.

Complete darkness closed in on her. The hot, pungent smell of fertilizer invaded her nostrils. Arms outstretched, she found a metal shelf to her right. Within two steps something blocked her way and she reached down to find two large bags. Probably the fertilizer. Her hand brushed against something rough on the shelves and she reached for it. Burlap. Taking the material off the shelf, she eased out the two large bags and slipped behind them. She covered herself with the burlap piece, pulled her knees to her chest and made herself as small as humanly possible.

Several sets of hard footsteps rounded the corner and Abbey bit her lip.
Control your breathing, control your breathing.
Please, please, please, let them keep going.
She concentrated on how Blake taught her to breathe. If she got out of this, she’d give him the chance he wanted. She just needed to get out of this. She needed to call for help. So far, with the exception of her kidnappers, the place seemed deserted.

“She couldn’t have gotten far.” She recognized the black man’s voice. The door burst open and she quit breathing, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Her heart nearly burst out of her chest. Then the door closed. “Benz, take left. Call Herrera. Get him on it. Spread out. Find her.”

“How could you fucking let this happen?” a new voice demanded.

“I didn’t let anything happen.”

“Did you see Damon? Jesus, she took out his fucking eye then clubbed him.”

“I told that asshole we should’ve just taken her out.”

Abbey squeezed her legs tighter to quit from shaking. Her thigh burned like hot coal. Her pounding heart seemed as loud as a concert drumming in her ears. Sweat broke out on every inch of skin. The smell threatened to close in on her just like the dark.

“Fuck,” the man swore again and started firing. She jumped at the sound. She held back a shriek and bit her lip harder.

“Cut it out!” the first guy said. “You’re gonna bring the neighbors down on us, jackass.”

The other man roared, something slammed into the door and Abbey jumped again as she buried her head under her arms.

“Let’s go. Firing off these rounds isn’t going to find her. And we don’t want people asking questions.”

“I don’t fucking care,” the man groused. “She fucking mutilated my brother and she’s going to pay.”

“We aren’t going to find her standing here. Let’s go.” The two men strode off and Abbey didn’t move. She didn’t breathe. She listened as they checked every door along the path. She needed a plan. Needed to find a way to get out of this hot box and get help. Troy and Blake had to know she was gone. It had been hours. They had to be looking for her.

Her purse vibrated against her stomach and scared the crap out of her.

Her phone!

Except when she pulled it out of her purse, she discovered it wasn’t her phone.

Blake had talked to the police, he’d talked to Troy and he’d talked to Abbey’s agent. When his phone buzzed with a notice of a text from a number he didn’t know, he nearly ignored it. But the first words of the text showed up on his screen—
It’s Abbey! Need help!
—and fresh adrenaline pounded through him. He blinked to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. “Abbey?” He only got the first few words of the text before he unlocked his phone and got into his messages. She’d sent a group text to both him and Troy.

It’s Abbey! Need help! Got away! Hiding n storage room. Some sort of estate/compound. Satellite says Palm Springs.
She texted an address next.
Can’t talk. Afraid they’ll hear. Can’t text cops. Can’t call. At least 3 men looking 4 me. Maybe more. Same guys from the concert! What do I do!!

“Holy fucking Christ,” Blake breathed as he scrambled to text back. His relief ran a race with his panic.
Sit tight. On my way.
He calculated Palm Springs from his location now…
Gonna take at least 75 min to get there.
He’d be driving ninety miles an hour to make that time.
Troy will find your cell signal from the # you’re using. I’ll find u. Will call cops from here.
The phone rang as he sent the text, and Troy’s number came up on the screen. He answered. “You got her text?”

“Yeah.”

Blake hustled out of her apartment and ran for his SUV. “I’m headed in that direction now. Can you call the cops and find her cell signal for the mobile she’s using?”

“Already working on it. Be careful.”

“You know it.” He reached his Explorer, climbed in and cranked the engine. A new text came through from Abbey.

Scared. Can’t breathe.

Blake’s heart lurched. She’d sent this one strictly to him. Remembering her in the elevator, the way she’d hyperventilated with an anxiety attack the first time they met, he got sick inside.

In n out. U can do it. Breathe. N the car. Need to hit road.
God, he didn’t want to let her go.
U hurt?
He needed to know she was healthy like he needed air to breathe.

Think he shot me. Not bad, but 2 dark 2 see. Can’t risk the flashlight app.

Rage exploded in his chest. “Fuck!” He slammed his fist on the steering wheel then took a deep breath. He needed to keep his shit together or he wouldn’t be any help to her. He wanted to know what happened, but had to keep this quick.
Where?

Thigh. Keeping pressure on it. Glad it’s dark. 2 afraid to look. Chicken.

“Not even close, sweetheart. You are anything but chicken,” he murmured. Blake wanted to howl. He wanted to kill the men who hurt her and break them into tiny bits. He was dying. Couldn’t get to her fast enough.
U=brave. Can’t text going 90. Hang tight. On my way. Not stopping for anything. Remember/breathe. Stay where u r. Coming for u. Plm Sprngs cops will find u. SWEAR TO GOD. Will take u out of there. Have 2 trust me.

Ok. Thx. I…just hurry. Pls hurry.

Blake was about to peel out, but hit the brake instead. One more text.
Know u can’t talk. Want me 2 call so I’m in your ear? U don’t have to say anything.
Her dots indicated her typing.

Yes pls. Phone on vibrate.

Euphoria he didn’t expect filled his chest. She wanted him to talk to her. She needed him. He punched in the number before he screamed out of his spot, burning rubber on the road.

The phone only rang once before the call went through and the open line of her phone filled his car from the Bluetooth.

“Ab? Can you hear me?” He spoke quietly. “Press one of the numbers on the keypad if you can.” A quick beep indicated she was listening.

“I’m coming. I’m on the road. Troy’s calling the cops. We’ll get you out, I promise.” God, he’d already said this in his text. He didn’t know what the hell to say. “Ab. I was so scared. I’m still scared and I know you are, too, but it’s going to be all right.” He heard an intake of air. “Don’t cry, baby. I’m coming.” He reached the freeway and floored the Explorer. It gave him an idea. “I’ll bet I’d beat mighty Trace Bradshaw on the road even in my piece of shit old SUV.” He heard another sound. Might’ve been another muffled sob or muffled laugh. “I’ve always wondered how fast this old thing can go. Looks like I get to find out.” He searched for something else to say. He sucked at ad-libbing. That was Julie’s profession, not his.