The cold metal clicked into place around Isabel's slim wrists, and she shivered. Yvette tugged on the handcuffs, testing them to make sure they were locked. Though it was speckled with blood, the diamond on Isabel's wedding ring glinted in the sun.
"You don't deserve that," Yvette said. She grabbed Isabel's hand and yanked the ring from her finger.
Isabel winced with pain—the ring was on her injured hand. Yvette looked at the bloodied ring with disgust, wrapped it in a tissue, and slipped it into her purse.
"Don't try to do anything," Yvette warned. "Remember, you still have the cuffs on."
Glen's rough hands grabbed her upper arms and dragged her from the car. He placed her on her feet and let go slowly, staring at her with narrowed eyes.
"Can you stand?" he asked
