“Thanks, but I want to work through this on my own.” And I will. The second I get back in that house, I’ll convince Caleb to help me, and we will go after Liam. With or without Ford.
Ford gives me a soft smile. “You are good at being on your own, aren’t you?”
Something about the way he asks that makes my blood chill. What does he mean by that? “I think I’m going to go inside. I need to talk to Agent Harris.”
“Won’t you finish the path with me?” Ford asks.
“No, but thank you. It was very sweet of you to offer.”
He looks at me, his eyes searching. “I could have sworn you had feelings for me.”
“I, uh…” What do I say to that? The truth. “No. I’m sorry.”
He sighs, dropping my hand to dig in his pocket. “That was the wrong answer.”
His hand attacks my face, covering my mouth with a cloth. I scream, fighting against Ford’s giant body, but my efforts are unsuccessful, and he gives me a pitying smile as I drift into a familiar unconsciousness.
One thing remains utterly clear: I trusted the wrong man.
Chapter 36
Liam
The second I stepout of my car a man emerges from the warehouse with a gun aimed at my head. I ensure the box is safe in my bag before lifting both hands in the air.
“Do you have any weapons?” he asks.
I slip the knife from my pants pocket and toss it on the ground, hoping he doesn’t feel the need to search for more.
“That’s it?” he asks, before patting me down and finding the gun at my waist and Taser in my back pocket. He laughs as he tosses the taser on the ground and smashes it with his heel.
“That was brand new,” I mutter, as he continues his rather aggressive body search. I jump when his hands wander near my crotch. “Hey now. At least buy me dinner first.”
He narrows his eyes and steps back. “That way.” When I take a step forward he sticks the gun in my spine and nudges me.
“I’m getting some hostile vibes right now,” I say, refusing to let the barrel in my back bother me. I’m used to it. “What’s your name? Or are you just a henchman who carries out the boss’s orders and doesn’t have a name? When the boss needs someone, he just says, ‘henchman numbertwelve.’”
“Shut up.” He shoves the gun harder in my back.
“See… that’s the thing. I enjoy talking, and it helps me process my anxiety when I can speak my thoughts—”
“I said shut up.” His words are punctuated with a smack against my ribs. Between Cruz, her partner, and now this man, I’ve never been so abused. I can’t say I don’t deserve it.
When we get to the door, he leans around me, banging on it with his fist. “Twenty-seven,” he shouts.
My cheeks pinch. “I was right. You do have a number. It’s kind of disappointing they sent number twenty-seven out to greet me instead of number on—” He punches my already bruised cheek, and I curse.
“You really should learn to shut up.”
I spit out blood. “Learned it. Didn’t enjoy it.” I spit again, forcing a smile.
The door opens, and another man grabs my arm, yanking me inside.
“Henchman number twenty-six, I presume?”
He glares at me, but instead of taking the bait like number twenty-seven, he remains silent as we walk through a darkened hallway and into a big empty room. No one is waiting for me in here. The cement walls make it feel like a cave. If I yelled, I bet it would echo. I’m about to try it when a man steps out from behind a broad beam, his overly tanned face split in a self-righteous sneer like he’s been waiting for this moment. At the same time, four more men step from behind other beams around the room.
“Be honest, how long did you guys practice that cheesy entrance?” I laugh to myself, picturing five burly men fighting over the best way to intimidate their guest.
