Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Chapter 4
Taken
You are naked and captured by strangers.
A blindfold covers your eyes and blocks out the world. The coarse fabric scrapes against your face, and you breath in the scent of motor oil.
Your mouth is duct taped.
Your hands are bound behind your back and your feet are tied together. Your heart pounds in your ears. You are completely helpless... at the mercy of your captors.
These men have been driving you somewhere for hours.
But where?
Does Kazimir know you’re gone yet? And will he save you in time?
Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as you wonder what is happening and what lies ahead.
This was not how the evening was supposed to end. You imagined yourself lying within Kazimir’s huge, muscular arms, breathing in his sensual scent as it radiates all around you.
Instead, you find yourself in the center of a nightmare with no hope of waking up to forget the horrible dream.
The vehicle slows and then stops.
The humming of the engine ceases.
Car doors creak open and then slam.
In another language, men whisper in the distance.
You lean toward the direction of the conversation, hoping you can understand something that will help you get away.
Footsteps sound like they are getting louder.
Goose bumps spread across your skin because you realize that they’re coming your way.
You hear metal creak. Something is opening by you.
Hands grab your arms and pull you from the vehicle.
You scream.
Other hands grip your body and carry you away.
You squirm and try to get your hands free, but the bindings are too strong. You try to get your feet free by kicking and flailing, but the struggle only succeeds in making you dizzy.
They lay you down on something soft. You assume it is a mattress, but it reeks of dirt and sweat.
Terror grips your heart.
Someone removes the blindfold, and you blink at the bright light as a man helps you slowly sit up.
Seconds later, your vision is clear. It is a bed you were placed on.
A soft whistle sounds.
You look that way.
A man wearing a designer suit sits in a chair in front of the bed you’re on. The fabric is expensive and it accentuates his features. He is clean shaven and his short, reddish-brown hair is styled around his face. His gaze is on you.
A group of men stand behind him, armed with assault rifles and pistols.
You have no idea who any of these people are.
You return your attention to the man in the chair. You don’t want to admit it, but he’s good-looking. . .for an insane kidnapper.
He’s got an oval face, with a well-sculpted chin. His skin is tanned probably from being outdoors. A perfect five o’clock shadow coats his cheeks. He’s got a strong jaw line, with a mole directly below his bottom lip. His lips are full, but not overly so. He’s wearing a nice suit, with a tie around his neck. His eyes are a bright green, like freshly mowed grass.
His gaze is intense and penetrates you. “You have a very sexy body.”
You wish your hands weren’t tied behind your back so you could cover yourself.
He moves his gaze over your breasts and down to your legs. “Do you know who I am?”
You shake your head.
“Too bad.” He curves his lips into a smile. “However, I know who you are.”
You widen your eyes.
“You’re the reason why I haven’t been getting my shipment of guns on time.”
You have no idea what he is talking about.
The man rises from the chair and towers over you. “They call me the Scorpion.”
You raise your view to his eyes.
“Have you heard of me now?”
You shake your head, wishing you could speak.
“Hmmm.” He takes off his suit jacket. “Scorpions are not malicious creatures that stalk humans to sting.”
A stocky man with a long black beard sprints forward and grabs the jacket.
Now without the jacket, you can see the muscles pushing up against his white button up shirt. The man has biceps the size of bowling balls, and his shoulders ripple.
For some reason, the Scorpion looks your way and licks those full lips.
You inch back in the bed.
The Scorpion rips open his shirt-cuffs. Silver cufflinks fall to the floor.
A man with a bald head hurries over and picks them up.
The Scorpion neatly rolls up his sleeves.
And all you can wonder is what he is preparing for.
He finishes rolling up his sleeves and grins. “Scorpions are not even aggressive creatures. They’re timid and wary.”
You’re wondering what the hell you have to do with him and why he is mad.
“But when a Scorpion is bothered. . .” He walks over and kneels in front of you, putting his eyes level with yours. “The sting can be deadly.”
You tremble.
He raises his hand to your face and slips his fingers along your cheek. “You’re different than Kazimir’s usual.”
You lean away from his touch.
He grips you and yanks you back. “Do you have any idea how many delays you have caused me?”