They all froze.
“Practice?” one of them repeated, narrowing his eyes.
I tried to wave him off, but it was easier said than done with bound wrists. “Long story.”
The van was filled with an uneasy silence before the driver muttered, “This is starting to feel like a bad idea.”
“You think?” I said brightly, offering him a wide smile.
I seriously couldn’t believe I had managed to get kidnapped for the second time. With a sigh, I leaned my head back against the seat.
“Honestly,” I muttered, “this is becoming a pattern.”
The men in the front seats exchanged a look.
“What is wrong with her?” one whispered. “Is she crazy?”
I scoffed at him. “I’m not crazy. Well … not entirely. You just kidnapped a talkative person, that’s all.”
Twenty chaotic minutes later, the car screeched to a halt, I was shoved out of the sliding door and found myself in a grimy warehouse surrounded by several men.
Seriously, what was it with the warehouses?!
At the far end of the warehouse, another group of men had gathered. These men didn’t move in the same way. They weren’t arguing or fidgeting. Instead, they were watching.
Those were professionals and they looked significantly less amused by my existence.
The one I’d shot in the groin was whimpering in pain, and after some frantic phone calls, he was taken away by one of his friends.
Notably, none of the quieter men moved to help. One of them muttered something under his breath, clearly annoyed.
“We’re done here,” one of them said flatly. “This wasn’t the agreement.”
“We got her, didn’t we?” One of the men who had traveled with me in the van shot back defensively.
“You got lucky,” the man replied. “This is your mess.”
After a tense pause, the second group began to peel off, moving calmly and efficiently, and showing no interest in what was to come.
They weren’t interested in me, I realized. They’d been here for a job. And the job was apparently over.
Great. So now I was stuck with the idiots.
I was left with the two apparent ringleaders, who didn’t seem too sure what to do with me now that we were here. After some awkward shuffling and pushing each other to the front, there was a resounding silence.
My wrists were still bound, Sasha was nowhere in sight, and I had no plan.
Okay. Actually, that wasn’t true. I knew Sasha would come. He would definitely come.Eventually. I just had to make sure I didn’t die before he got here.
After a minute or so of us just staring at each other, I raised my eyebrows. “So, what’s the plan?”
“The plan?” one of them echoed.
I’d nicknamed that one “Pompadour” due to the uncomfortable amount of gel in his hair.
I nodded encouragingly. “Yeah, the plan. I mean … you got one of those, right?”
Keep them talking. Keep them thinking. Keep them from doing something stupid.