Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
I almost snorted because he had no idea.
A scrape sounded from behind me, and before I could respond or react, something was shoved over my head. The world went dark. I felt a prick as a needle was jammed into my neck.
I gasped, my legs shifting into a fighting stance automatically. But I was too late because the world began to tilt, and I was going down.
Strong arms caught me right as I realized what was happening.
Shit. I’m being kidnapped.
Chapter Seventeen
Blake
The covering was whisked away, and there, as my hands had been tied behind my chair, two fuckheads stared down at me. Tristian West and Ashton Walden.
I growled because no fucking way was this happening to me again. No way in hell. I began working, trying to get one of my hands free right away. I probably should’ve been scared. I knew this, but right now, I was pissed.
These two assholes.
Walden’s face was bruised. I got a better look at him since there was light in the room, and he looked as if he went three rounds with a heavyweight champion, and lost. West wasn’t too much better. Both were heavily bruised, and both were scowling at me. They were livid and looking at me as if I was the cause of whoever pissed in their cereal.
Wait . . .
Oh. Oh, man.
I got it then, and I probably should have gotten it before then, but I was probably partly to blame for whatever had pissed them off.
Creighton had been fucking with these guys.
I drawled, my hands still working on the knots behind my chair, “Am I to take from the silent reception that I’m the recipient of you fucking Creighton back? Is that why I’m tied up to a chair?”
I sounded frustrated and on edge, but my insides were more than torpedoing in somersaults, blasting and bouncing all around me. I couldn’t let them see that side of me. More so because I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction that yes, a part of me was scared here. A small part.
Okay. Maybe more than a small part, but I wasn’t going to indulge. I might do that later, when I was in the shower, and no one could hear me crying. Yes. I’d plan a sobfest date with myself, but later. When I was safe and free.
Ugh. I was so mad that I was in this situation.
Think, think, think, Blake!
I felt the slack on one of my hands. Yes. The rope fell loose around one of my hands, but I caught it so the rope didn’t fall to the ground. I needed more time. A few more minutes as I began working on the other hand, and this one would go faster. Scanning the room, I began looking. There was always an escape route. A wall I could tear through, a window I could slip out, a side of a building I could climb down. There was always a way. I just had to get free first, then find the escape route.
There were no windows.
There was a table. Two doors. A panel in the ceiling. A camera pointed my way. Plastic sheets had been spread out underneath me, and I wasn’t going to ponder on their existence.
“I’m feeling a weird sense of déjà vu, like I’ve done this before,” I bit out, sarcastically.
Walden was the one who stepped closer. His eyes were hard. His face was harder, like granite. My eyes widened. He was more furious than I was. What had Creighton done?
I felt the slack behind me. The second hand was almost free.
“You’ve not been kidnapped, Miss Green,” the West guy spoke up. Hazel eyes. Wide cheekbones. He was rugged, but handsome at the same time. I was placing him at six four, maybe two hundred and fifteen pounds? That was a guess. His hair was slicked back. He was a lot more put together than the other one. He shot Walden a look, who shuddered when he saw it and visibly shook before he stepped back. Okay then.
West was the spokesman.
“Really?” I said. “My tied-up hands say otherwise.”
“You’re here because we have questions.”
I glanced between the two. “So this has nothing to do with the other guy I saw in the alley?”
West pinned his Walden with a glare. “What is she talking about?”
Walden shrugged. “I don’t fucking know. She’s a liar, like her boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” I ignored the kick in my chest.
“Ashton.”
He glared at West, his jaw clenching. “It doesn’t matter and not in front of her.”
“Fine.” West indicated the door. “Hallway. Now.” He stalked off.
Walden glared at me again.
West shoved open the door and barked, “That wasn’t a request.” He let the door slam shut behind him.
I held Walden’s scowl. “I think your boyfriend wants to have a talk. You’ve been a bad boy, Ashton Walden.”
“Keep fucking talking. Your boyfriend enjoyed torturing me. What do you think he’d do if I returned the favor on you?”