I told him I was going out shopping with Jewel. Only she couldn’t make it. I had to beg to get him to let me go out on my own. He’s gonna be so mad at me. They must have drugged me because all I remember was someone grabbing me from behind then a pinprick on my neck. Then I woke up in the back of a van.”
“Shh.” He sat beside her, pulling her in close. He ran his hand up and down her back. “Duke’s not going to be mad. He’s going to be happy that you’re okay. Is there anything they said? Anything you can tell me that might help?”
He took the blanket Royal held out and settled it around her shoulders. Baron handed her a box of tissues. She gave them both a tremulous smile.
“No, I was out of it for most of it. I tried to get away when they were dragging me out from the back of the van, but one of them hit me.” She raised a shaking hand to her swollen face. “When we got here and they were waiting for Betsy to answer the buzzer, they were…they were…”
She looked ill.
“What, Sunny-girl?”
“Discussing ways of getting rid of her body.”
He made a grunting noise, as though he’d been hit in the gut. He ran his hand over his face. Something else occurred to him.
“Did you tell them where my place is?”
“No,” she said slowly. “I’ve never been here. I didn’t know where you lived.”
He looked up at Stone. “Someone told them.”
“Or they followed you,” Stone offered.
Fuck!
His phone rang.
“Talk to me,” he said, putting the phone on speaker. The boys deserved to know what was going on.
“Found them,” Brody said. “Betsy only turned off the alarm, not the cameras. They had a van parked not too far away. I’m running the plates, but I assume it’s stolen.”
“Betsy said they were Forrest’s guys. Any idea why he isn’t fucking worried about me handing over what I’ve got on him?”
“Yeah,” Brody said gravely. “FBI and DEA just did a raid on all of Forrest’s houses an hour ago. Apparently, he’s missing.”
Shit!
“Prick’s got nothing to lose now,” Stone said calmly. But there was death in his eyes.
No. Nothing to lose which meant he had no reason to keep Betsy alive.
34
She woke up just as something was thrown into her face.
What on Earth? She opened her eyes and tried to look around but a wave of dizziness ran over her. Where was she? She heard a sound. A grunt. A thud. Then something landed on her legs. She was half-reclined, slumped back against something cold and hard. Something dug persistently into her hip, her head thumped and her arm burned.
She tried to move. Agony engulfed her head and she leaned to the side and vomited. Each heave of her body sent more shards of pain through her arm and her head.
Oh God. Oh God.
Finally, her stomach waved a white flag and stopped heaving. Not that there was actually anything in her stomach to throw up.
She managed to open her eyes and look around. It was growing dark. But still light enough to see the wall of dirt in front of her. Shivers racked her body yet she didn’t feel cold. She felt numb. She closed her eyes, blocking everything out.
This was just a dream. Right?
It had to be. It had to be. Sure, it felt real. The pain was making it hard to breathe, she couldn’t even move her right arm, her head was thumping in time with her pulse and that frigging thing digging into her hip was really pissing it off.
But it had to be a dream. Because if it wasn’t then she was in complete and utter deep shit.
Calm. Calm.
Just open your eyes again and you’ll see you’re at home.
With Ink. She had to be home with him.
One breath. Another. You can do this, Betsy. Just wake the fuck up!
She opened her eyes again and let out a whimper as she saw she was in the same dark, damp hole. How did she get here?
Another pile of dirt landed on her.
Her breath sawed in and out of her lungs. Someone was shoveling dirt down on her.
She tried to move again, moaning as her head protested.
“Hey! She’s awake? I thought you said she was dead!”
Who was that? The voice was familiar.
“She wasn’t moving. I thought she was dead.”
“You dumbass. Just because someone isn’t moving doesn’t mean they’re dead.”