Livy

The scent of gasoline singed the hairs inside my nose.

The acrid odor was what woke me. I tried to lift my head, but my mind was in a hazy fog. I was tired. So damn tired.

I must have been drugged. Lolling my head to the side, I tried to force my lids to open and blink. Beside me, or maybe it was behind me, there was a voice. It was saying blurred words. My fogged brain could make no sense of it.

Think. Wake up. Clear the fog. You need to think.

I finally managed to open my eyes, but when I did, all I saw was empty blackness.

I chanced another sniff and winced. That was gasoline. Where the fuck was I?

"Wake the hell up. We have to get out of here."

My brain started to process the words a little better. That voice. Why was that voice familiar?

I felt as if I was being jostled or moved. "Wake up, damn it. I do not belong here."

Suddenly, I knew why that voice was so familiar. That was April Van Linsted. She'd used the same pinched tone with me earlier. At the Gem Gala.

The Gala. Okay, the gala, the boys, the heist.

What in the world had happened? Think, Livy.

Piece by piece, as if an unseen hand started to put together the parts of the puzzle of my last hours, things started to click into place. And just like a real puzzle, my brain occasionally tried to jam the odd piece into places they didn't belong before finally finding the correct spot.

I had followed April Van Linsted. I'd thought she was after one of the guys. She'd been calling for one of the security guards, pointing back at the room and then... What? What had happened?

I had heard a sound? Sensed movement maybe? There had been a man, bigger than me, dressed in black and wearing a balaclava. But his eyes were flat, cold, not like one of our guys. I'd quickly turned on the balls of my feet to run toward security, but then I'd felt a prick in my neck, and...

And then I woke up here with April Van Linsted. I tried to force my mouth to say words. I made my throat contract and release, moved my tongue, all the things that signified speech, but I couldn't do it. No words came out.

I licked my lips and tried again, but all I managed was a scorching fire in my throat, as if someone had shoved a hot poker down it.

My last attempt was the best one, because actual sounds formed. "Are we?"

That wasn't right. I was missing a word. I cleared my throat, wincing through the pain. "Where are we?"

"Does it matter? And how the hell would I know? All I know is that we're in a couple of chairs, we're tied together, and there's no way out. Oh yes, and it's dark in here."

Why was she shouting? "Please don't shout. I have to figure this out. Do you know who took us?"

"As if I would associate with the kind of people who would kidnap someone. I'm April fucking Van Linsted."

I sighed. Clearly, she was going to be no help. I glanced around. Small slivers of light told me we were in a large garage or something. There were dark voids I couldn't see properly, but I thought I detected the outlines of some kind of large equipment. That would certainly account for the gasoline smell.

"Did they drug you too?"

"How would I know? All I know is that someone forced a bag over my head then shoved me into some kind of tight space with you. I must have passed out."

Maybe they'd only drugged me. Why not keep both of us quiet? Or was I the more dangerous of the two of us? "Do you know how many people there were?"

"Why would I worry about such a thing? I was too busy worrying about my life."

As co—kidnappees went, April Van Linsted was the worst. "I'm asking so I can figure out how many men are holding us. Do you know how long we drove? It might give some clues to our location."

"I don't know. Thirty minutes I suppose."

Thirty minutes. On a Saturday night, London traffic was notorious. If April was even close to accurate in her time estimation, that left very few options. It might be safe to assume we were at least somewhere accessible to people, which helped with our avenues for escape.

Are you seriously considering escaping? Ben will come for you.

I would have loved to believe that. But he didn't know where I was. I doubted that the people who had taken us were dumb enough not to have checked for my tracker and removed it, so he wouldn't know where I was. As options went, it was either sit there with April Van Linsted or figure a way out. I couldn't count on them launching a rescue mission for me.

You don't know Ben.

He might come for me, but the least I could do was give him a hand and try to rescue myself. Besides, chances were that if I didn't do something, April and I would both end up dead.

I tried to move my wrists and discovered April was tied to a chair behind mine. the chairs were fused together somehow and likely bolted to the ground to keep us in place. "April, can you move your hands?"

There was a bit of silence. "A little, why?"

"I'm trying to figure out if we can get out of our restraints."

"Are you joking?"

Through gritted teeth, I said, "Look, I know you don't want to be here. Neither do I, so we have to work together, okay?" She was the last partner I would have picked for anything, but she was all I had at the moment.

I was startled by a clattering noise. It sounded like metal grating on metal followed by a loud creaking sound and then a roar, and suddenly light poured in. I had to blink rapidly to adjust to the sudden brightness. Three men walked in, stocky, burly, and one of them looked vaguely familiar.

My stomach twisted when I realized it was the same man who had mugged me the night of the party at the Van Linsted estate.

He recognized me too. When our gazes met, he leaned forward, leered at me, and then said something to one of his partners, whom I didn't recognize. The guy he spoke to was even bigger, burlier. Built like a damn tank. I made a mental note to avoid him if at all possible.

Tussling with him would just be trouble for us later. When he spoke, his voice was low, guttural. His accent was vaguely Eastern European. I knew it wasn't Russian or Lithuanian. My mother had been posted in Russia at one point in my childhood, so I was familiar enough with the language to recognize it if needed. No, they were speaking something else. Not Slavic exactly. I mentally tried to catalog the languages and the accents of my mother's friends whom I'd met over the years. I couldn't place it, but I knew I would eventually.

As he spoke to his friend, he said the word Libret more than once. What the hell did that mean?

The stockier one continued to leer at me as he approached us. He and his friend had bottles of water, uncapped, and I knew better than to drink. So when he tried to place the bottle near my lips, I turned my head.

With an evil smile, he grabbed my hair tightly and forced my head to turn. I winced at the pain as he tried to force the bottle into my mouth. Some of it trickled into my mouth, which I immediately sprayed back out onto him.

His friend laughed. That humiliation earned me a sharp crack across the face, and pain exploded in my cheekbone. My body jerked with the force of it. Agony and fear made me want to crawl into a deep dark hole and pass out right then, but I knew I couldn't afford to let myself do that.

Whether she wanted to or not, April was depending on me. Ben was counting on me to come home. And I didn't fucking want to die. My head rolled and I tried to bring it back up. Behind me, I could hear the sounds of swallowing. Shit. There was no telling what kind of drugs could be in what she was drinking. I didn't know what else they'd given her.

April spoke to the person giving her a drink. "I—if you help me, m—my husband will reward you."

The man in front of her only chuckled low. "You cannot bargain with me," he said. Then he and his partner left.

Of course she was trying to bargain for herself. I noted I hadn't been included in that bargain. Because no way in hell Marcus Van Linsted would save me too. He was more likely to leave me here to rot. Yeah, right. Of course.

"Can you move your hands at all?"

"No? Why are you asking?" When short and stocky had slapped me, the force of it had made me jerk hard enough that my right arm became slightly loose. I wiggled and wiggled, wincing as the rope chafed. Finally, I got my hands into position, and using the thumb of my left hand, I pressed on the top knuckle of my right thumb, pulled and dislocated it.

I haven't felt pain like that since Micah Hadid had accidentally kicked me in the front lip once when I was ten. The pain was enough to make my eyes well and my brain feel like it was going to explode, but I kept it up. I knew what I had to do, thanks to some preparation from Roone.

Another couple of quick tugs and my hand was free. More quick tugs, and I shoved my other arm to the left, loosening the ropes enough to get that side free. Knowing I'd need as much dexterity as possible, I held my breath and quickly popped my thumb back into the socket while forcing myself to swallow the cries of pain that wanted to escape. Then I quickly undid my feet and went for April's restraints next as I crouched in front of her. "Are you okay?"

They'd blindfolded her. Shit. They hadn't blindfolded me, which meant they were planning to trade her back, like she'd suggested.

They had no such plan for you.

It was a hell of a time to realize something like that, but there wasn't a damn thing to do about it, so I needed to just carry the hell on. "Come on, we're getting out of here."

Her mouth opened then closed. "You're free?"

"Yeah, I'm free." I tugged on the ropes binding her feet. I freed one then the other. Then I untied her hands. Once loose, she rubbed them gingerly before yanking off her blindfold. "You're insane. They will find us, and they will kill us. If I die because of you, my husband will have your head."

I shook my head. "No one is killing you. They need you alive. I, on the other hand, can't stay because they have no intention of keeping me alive. So you can choose to sit here and wait, or you can come with me. But I will guarantee you this… They don't have to return you intact."

Her eyes went wide. "What do you mean, intact?"

"One of those men has already followed and mugged me. They're violent. You might go home, but you won't ever be the same. It's up to you. We can work together, or we end up dead. Or worse."

"What's worse than death?"

"Do you really want to know?"

Her tongue peeked out to lick her bottom lip, and she swallowed. "Fine. Since you clearly have experience with some unsavory people and dangerous situations, how the hell do we get out of here?"

***

Ben

Out in the van, I watched and waited for signs of Livy.

East leaned over. "Mate, we can't wait any longer."

He was out of his mind. No way was I leaving without her, period. "What the fuck are you saying? We wait."

"Fine, we'll give it another minute. Maybe she'll come out, or maybe she already made it out of another exit."

From my periphery, I saw Bridge shake his head, and I glanced back at East. Roone was coming over from the other car. "We're going to miss our window. The police will be here soon. It's better to move, or would you rather explain what the fuck we're all doing here? Time to go."

I shook my head. "No. Liv's inside. We can't leave her."

His voice was low and hushed like he was speaking to a spooked animal. "Listen, we can do more by getting back to the house and planning. Figure out where she is, where she went, and what happened. Right now, we can't do anything if we all get pinched. Do you hear me?"

I growled at him. "I'm not fucking—" His straight jab to my face came quick, and the edges of my vision wavered a little.

"What the fuck? Did you just hit me?"

"Yeah, because you're being irrational. You're putting us all in danger."

I was done. Done playing along. Done getting along.

I had to go back for her.

East must have guessed my intention because he reached for my arm, which I quickly dodged. Then I stepped around Roone and bolted to his car. Her tracker was active, and I was going to get her back.