Layce's point of view.
We drive for about thirty minutes; if I am right, we are in the suburb of Persian Oaks. Ever since the revelation of who I am the car has been eerily quiet—another mistake. When you kidnap someone properly you want to keep talking to distract your victim and make it hard for them to focus on where you are going.
Pulling up to a house one of the henchmen grabs my arm and starts dragging me inside. I can hear Sarah fumbling with her keys as the driver sighs loudly. I am directed to a basement. I can see the grey concrete floor through the bottom of the blindfold. The two men shove me down onto a wooden chair. They bind both my ankles as Sarah lifts my hands behind the chair.
I hear the three of them whispering in the corner and strain myself to hear keywords. Fro
