Fast Burn (Body Armor #4)(87)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

SAHARA SHIVERED IN her wet clothes and bare feet. Why hadn’t she dressed reasonably in jeans and boots instead of hoping to look her best when she reunited with her brother? It wasn’t like he expected her to wear her classiest business outfit to a clandestine meeting at the riverbank. No, the choice of outfit was all her doing. She’d wanted Scott to have a good impression of her after all this time.

Her only concession to the weather and location had been a longer skirt, snug-fitting sweater and booties instead of stiletto heels.

The booties should have stayed in place, damn it, but somewhere along the way she’d lost one of them, maybe while getting dragged into the small boat. She had a vague recollection of a long scratch along the back of one calf and a solid crack to her elbow.

In the process of her second kidnapping, she’d also lost her umbrella and, unfortunately, her phone.

Worse, they’d taken her gun from her.

She blamed her stupid panic for that. If she hadn’t seen Scott shot, hadn’t seen him fall, she might have kept a cool head. Instead, blind rage had driven her and she’d jerked out the gun without thinking through the fact that three men surrounded her at close range.

The redheaded goon had backhanded her so hard she’d nearly toppled out of the rickety boat. The blow was strong enough that darkness had temporarily closed in. It had been an easy thing for him to wrest the gun from her slack fingers.

Her face still stung. She was so damned cold that she appreciated the throbbing pain; at least it was something she could feel besides worry and stark, gnawing despair.

One guy looked back from the front seat. “Have you called Ross yet?”

The redhead who’d struck her in the boat and then tied her hands too tightly in the car muttered, “He’s meeting us there.”

Sahara cocked a supercilious brow. “Does he know why he’s meeting you?”

For an answer, Olsen’s frown deepened.

The driver leered at her in the rearview mirror, licked his lips and murmured huskily, “Ross won’t object, not anymore.”

“You’d be wise to leave her alone,” Olsen said.

“Right before he left, he agreed it was a good plan to get her.”

“With him, Andy. Not without him.” Olsen slumped lower in his seat. “Don’t fool yourself. When he finds out, he’s going to be pissed.”

Sahara memorized the names as they said them, and the faces now that she could see them. Eventually they would pay.

If she lived long enough.

She eyed Olsen. “So Ross is going to join us?” The more she heard, the more she thought Ross might be her best bet for surviving mostly unscathed.

Olsen spared her a glance. “You’d do best to keep quiet.”

A tall order. She couldn’t be quiet on her best days, so how could he expect it of her now, when she was so miserable that she really wanted them to be miserable, too?

If it was just physical discomfort, she could be all stoic and brave, no problem, but her heart ached, both for her brother and for the anguish she’d heard in Brand’s voice as he’d shouted her name.

The two men she loved more than life...would she ever see either of them again?

Her gaze encompassed all the men. “I’ve heard of stupid, but this is off the charts. I almost feel sorry for you, knowing how it’s going to end.”

His tone taunting, the driver said, “Ross didn’t want you hurt because he considered you more valuable if you weren’t. But the rules have changed, sugar, and you’re now free game.”

Did he have to sound so anticipatory?

“You’re a dumbass, Andy,” Olsen snapped. “In case any of you failed to notice, Ross is sweet on her. If she hadn’t tried to blow my brains out, I wouldn’t have struck her. Ross is going to be furious and that doesn’t bode well for any of us.”

“I tried to kill you,” Sahara said numbly, “because you shot my brother.”

Terrance snarled over the seat, “You lied to us! You knew he was alive and that he owed us. But you—”

Olsen kicked the seat. “Shut up!”

They all seemed out of control, not at all like Ross, who had dictated with calm decisiveness. Sahara swallowed heavily, her fear very real. Ross had told her he wouldn’t let her be hurt—but he wasn’t here and these men seemed more than capable of hurting her in many, many ways.

She needed the upper hand, and she couldn’t get it by cowering.

Turning her head, she glared at Olsen. He sat in sullen silence beside her. “Is it your plan to freeze me to death?”

“You’ll be able to get warm and dry in a few more minutes.”

Great. That meant the guys could catch up to her that much quicker. She worked up a believable tremor in her lips. “My arms are aching. Those wet ropes are tightening and I can’t feel my fingers anymore.”

His gaze narrowed on her. “Once you’re inside, I’ll retie you to the bed.”

Uh-oh. Trying for mere curiosity rather than dread, she asked, “There’s a bed?”

Andy again looked at her in the rearview mirror. “I’ll help you take off those wet clothes. We’ll have you cozy in no time.”

She snapped, “Will you watch the road before you kill us all?”