Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 111229 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111229 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“How about we take you somewhere a little more respectable, somewhere a woman like you belongs,” the older one addressed me.
Warning bells sounded in my inebriated brain. This didn’t seem like it was going any place good. I searched for my friend the bartender, hoping he would be my knight in dirty plaid, but he was down the other end of the bar unpacking boxes. Guess I had to take care of myself.
“Look, I don’t know what kind of sick father son fantasy you two have going on, but I don’t want to be any part of it. Go and check the yellow pages for hookers who specialize in ménage a troi.” They continued to stare at me. “In other words, fuck off.” I attempted to sound strong and unruffled at the proximity of the men and their not so subtle intentions. The slurring of my words might have screwed with that attempt.
“Well, this one’s got spice.” The younger one raised his eyebrow almost amused at me. The way a cat was amused with a mouse before it gobbled it up.
“’Fraid we’re gonna have to insist you come with us, sweetheart,” he continued conversationally.
“’Fraid you’re gonna have to go screw yourself. I am not going anywhere with you two weirdos. Leave me alone before I scream at the top of my lungs.” I hoped the patrons of this bar were more chivalrous than they looked.
Paunch Man stepped closer and I felt something hard press into my back. I didn’t think it was on account of him being happy to see me.
“You better rethink that, Red. I’d hate to blow a hole in such a perfect little body, or splatter the brains of that nice bartender all over the walls.” He nodded his head at my tequila-giving friend who was heading our way with a frown.
I gulped. This was a serious situation, one that required some serious brainpower if I was to get out of it. Unfortunately my brainpower had left the building three shots ago.
“Everything okay there, darlin’? These guys bothering you?” he asked with a skeptical eye at my Armani clad kidnappers.
I swallowed and struggled not to throw myself across the bar and cling to the safety this man represented. The hard barrel at my ribs stopped me.
“Yeah, I’m fine. These are...” I trailed off, trying to think of some secret code I could use that would alert him to my situation. Then he could call the cops and they would hurtle into the building and save me. It happened in movies.
“We’re her cousins, come to take her home. It’s not safe for a woman to be drinking alone out here. Who knows what kind of sickos could take advantage,” the fat one cut in.
The barman eyed them skeptically, no doubt eyeing the lack of resemblance. He didn’t have time to inspect it thoroughly as I was roughly pulled to my feet.
“Come on, cuz, let’s get you home.” Blue Eyes grasped my upper arm tightly.
I swayed as the bar spun, but I didn’t have a chance to get my balance as I was dragged across the room. I managed to put one foot in front of the other without face planting; no mean feat in six inch heels and a belly full of liquor. My eyes burned as I was pulled out the door and into the sunlight. I put my hand up to shield my face from the rays and the grip on my arm tightened.
“Keep walkin’, Red. Don’t want a bullet hole to ruin your outfit, do we?” Blue Eyes yanked me along the street in the direction of a blacked-out SUV.
The sunlight may have temporarily blinded me but it also sobered me slightly. I glanced around at the small but busy street. I couldn’t remember the name of this place but I knew where my hotel was; not too far away from this bar actually. I also knew that a police station was two doors down from my hotel. I didn’t doubt these guys had a gun, but I also wondered if they’d actually use it on me. They were obviously kidnapping me for a reason; either that or they were going to kill me somewhere and dump my body, in which case I had nothing to lose. Or they needed me for some unknown reason, and then they would need me breathing. In any case I wasn’t going to let them have me without a fight. I was Amy Abrams, for fuck’s sake.
The SUV was getting closer so I had to act quickly. I pretended to stumble, pulling Blue Eyes back around.
“What the...” he started, but I interrupted him by jamming my heel into his shoe.
That move would not work on some of the bikers I had been hanging around lately, on account of their steel-capped boots. It worked a treat on soft Italian leather loafers. My heel went straight through and into his foot. He screamed in pain and let go of my arm. I pulled my foot back and turned on Fat Guy, who was standing frozen. I kneed him in the nuts, satisfied at the grunt of pain he emitted. People on the street were looking now, but I didn’t want to put any of them in the potential crossfire. I ran in the direction of the police station, adrenaline replacing some of the alcohol in my system. Not all of it; I still swayed a bit but I managed to stay upright. I heard people yelling in concern but blocked it out, pushing my legs to go faster as I crossed the street. I started to feel elated and pleased with myself for my escape without the need for a rescue. I am a strong, independent woman who don’t need no man to rescue her from a kidnapping. On that thought someone tackled me to the ground. I felt a dull pain from the impact but thankfully alcohol provided a pain cushion.
“Not smart, Red,” a voice hissed in my ear.
That’s when everything went black.