Something was tightly binding my wrists together and my feet were barely touching the ground as they dragged me backwards. Then I heard the sound of doors slamming and voices overlapping in frantic Spanish. Eventually, I was shoved and landed on a hard floor.
“Motherfucker!” I groaned. I was bound to be covered in bruises tomorrow.
Sasha is going to kill them.
That thought came with a sharp certainty, cutting straight through the panic.
And if he doesn’t find me…
No. Nope. Not going there.
The floor below me started to vibrate and suddenly, we were moving. My hood was ripped off, revealing I’d been shoved unceremoniously into the back of a van. Bright overhead lights made me squint, and I was met with the sight of four men staring at me.
Okay.Okay. Stay calm. Stay talking. Talking is good. Talking means thinking. Thinking meansalive.
One of them was clutching bloody bandages to his groin.
“Oh.” I grimaced as recognition dawned. “You’re the balls guy.”
He glared at me, wounded in his dignity as though he had just experienced profound personal betrayal. “You shot me.”
“I said I was sorry!”
“You shot my motherfucking testicles!”
“I wasn’taimingfor the testicles!”
Another man rubbed both hands down his face. “Please,” he groaned. “Please stop sayingtesticles.”
“Sorry!” I winced.
The van lurched forward and we drove in silence for about twenty seconds.
“Sooooo,” I said. “You guys do this a lot?”
All four men looked at me and then they exchanged wary glances.
“No,” the driver admitted.
I nodded sagely. “That tracks.”
I daresay my last kidnapping was a tad more professional.
“I’m assuming this is your first kidnapping?” I clarified.
“Yes.”
“Thought so. You’re not very good at it.” I wrinkled my nose, surveying them. Was it a good sign or a bad sign they were letting me see their faces? I wasn’t an expert, but I guessed it was probably bad.
I needed to get myself out of this situation as soon as possible.
The balls guy looked deeply offended by my assessment. “We got you, didn’t we?”
I considered this, wrinkling my nose and swaying my head from side to side. “Technically.”
The man opposite me squinted. “You’re very calm for someone who’s just been kidnapped.”
“Practice.” I shrugged.