Precious Gems - Sierra Hill Page 0,12

stay here until he arrives.”

“Oh goodie.” I roll my eyes insolently.

He nudges me forward with a hefty finger at my shoulder blade, pushing me in. I stall a few feet inside, checking for any possible exits and wondering how the hell I was going to get out of the ties still binding my wrists.

I lift my hands behind my back, flailing like a roped calf at a rodeo.

“I haven’t used the bathroom since before I left the airport today. I really need to pee and can’t without the use of my hands. Unless you want to wipe my ass.”

He grumbles and sighs, considering the verity of my request. Instead of a verbal response, he simply rummages through his front pants pocket, takes out a small tool, and unlocks the bindings that fall to the floor.

My wrists throb and fingers tingle from being bound and unable to move for that long, so I roll them around to restart the flow of blood supply.

“Thank you,” I offer quietly.

My stomach rumbles just then, and it seems to echo across the cavernous room. “I’m really hungry, too. Can I get something to eat? I had some granola bars in my bag, but your boss kept that.”

His face seems to soften just a little but then he seems to reconsider, the compassion disappearing in an instant.

“Don’t know, don’t care. Bathroom is over there,” he points to the far side of the room, which I now see is just as luxurious as the rest of the apartment. “I’ll see about some food.”

He turns to go, my mind racing as I try to figure out a way out of this situation.

I don’t know why my father put me in this position, but he damn well better make it right. And if this Boss guy doesn’t see fit to let me go, I’ll need to devise a plan of my own.

Because pickpocketing isn’t my only skill.

I’m also a damn good lock picker.

Chapter 7

I can’t be sure how long I’ve slept, but the last thing I remember after Hulk brought me some food and left me alone again was curling up on the large four-poster bed and then it was lights out.

With the cross-continental travel and time change, the stress over the meeting and the adrenaline rush of being kidnapped, I was exhausted, mind and body.

A loud commotion outside the door stirs me awake, my brain in a foggy state and far from clearheaded when I jump from the shouting. Voices of at least two men, maybe three irritated men, arguing over something.

Fear kicks in and starts to niggle at the bottom of my belly. I slide out of the bed, realizing I’m no longer wearing any shoes, which startles me further because I never removed them myself. At least, not that I recall.

A quick perusal of the rest of my body confirms that I’m still fully clothed, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I must’ve been out cold from the jetlag. Unless the food that was brought in was drugged.

I consider this possibility as I pad quietly over to the door and place my ear up to the wood grain. Although there’s a chance something could’ve been slipped in my food, I don’t feel lethargic or hungover, my head not swimming in thick confusion. I’m just tired.

The voices are now hushed, but loud enough that I can hear garbled portions of the conversation, identifying a few words from each response.

“…what the fuck…prisoner here? Faron, she’s….a kid.”

“West…remind you…she’s in…con…Mudd…dirty work…daughter…I will not…beautiful girl...I want…promised me…use her as leverage.”

Staggering back a few steps, my hand instinctively covers my mouth on a gasp.

What has my dad done? Did he screw this guy over, along with me, by not delivering what was promised? But why? What would motivate him to do something like that?

I pace back and forth as the men continue talking. But I’ve given up trying to hear them clearly. They must be in a closed room down the hall so it’s frustrating only obtaining a few words at a time and trying to make sense of them. But what I have heard has given me enough insight to know I’m in trouble.

Big, big trouble, unless I can find a way out of this mess. Unfortunately, I don’t know how I can do that and until I do, I’m stuck.

Literally, I’m a sitting duck.

I check the latch on the large window once again and find it won’t budge. Banging on it or screaming for help is useless because I’m