Prologue
Prologue
Leah Campbell
Leah cursed herself for all the times she’d committed—and then failed—to clean out her vehicle’s trunk, now that she had been forced to battle the car jack (a.k.a. CJ), a nuisance that had issues respecting one’s personal space, particularly where her ribs were concerned.
That being said, whoever had conked her on the head and dumped her in here with all this crap was going to suffer.
Badly.
She decided that the second they’d messed with her hair.
Wrong move, dudes.
Gritting her teeth as she attempted to shift her body weight, she vowed there would be no tears. The pain from CJ was just the latest in a string of injuries she’d sustained. And she would handle it.
Instead, she used what energy she had left to assess the situation. Time had gotten away from her upon meeting with the wrong side of a fist after she’d backhanded her attacker when he’d grabbed a fistful of pointy locks.
Best guess? Several hours had passed. She smelled less ripe than she would have had those hours transitioned into days.
At least she had that going for her.
As her head bounced against the wheel well, no thanks to the driver, she pieced together the events leading up to her current predicament. Most of which she wasn’t all that proud of.
Days earlier, she had lied to the only person she could count on. She’d seen the hurt in her best friend’s eyes when she’d packed her belongings, claiming she was heading to Los Angeles to work on a long-term project.
That was before she’d turned her back on their friendship and walked out the door.
She knew it was cowardly but couldn’t bear to continue looking in the rear-view mirror as she pulled away, even though she had seen AJ lingering on the sidewalk, her hand held high in the air in a feeble attempt to wave, just before she had collapsed onto the pavement and folded into herself, her shaking frame visible.
Only when Leah had safely exited the neighborhood did she allow the tears to fall. She’d never lied to her best friend before. Not in twenty-plus years.
But making AJ believe a lie had been safer than telling her the truth.
Hadn’t it?
Leah chuckled just thinking about what AJ would have done had she revealed her plan, wincing again in pain at the movement—her nose was probably cracked, if not broken. Yet it felt good to laugh.
Still, she’d hated how they’d left things, and now that it was likely she’d never get the chance to make it right, she wished she’d never broken her best friend’s heart.
Her intentions had been genuine—Shelby had gone missing, after all—and AJ would have respected and understood that.
Thinking of Shelby brought forth another type of anxiety…and pain.
Was the girl still alive?
After weeks of searching, she’d finally caught a glimpse of her former co-worker, followed by that desperate call. Shelby had reached out to warn her, only to have the connection broken.
Moments later, she’d been accosted. She hadn’t seen it coming, nor had she seen her attackers, other than to note that they were swift and strong—and seriously lacking a sense of humor.
Just then, her body slammed into the front of the trunk as the vehicle came to an abrupt halt.
Grimacing as she rolled on her back and shook off stars that did not look like any member of Duran Duran, her heart stopped short as she heard heavy boots collide with the ground. Panic infused every nerve as she contemplated her options. Even her feet were useless as weapons as they were not only bound but also tangled in the crap that surrounded her.
Chalk it up to lessons learned the hard way.
Her hands were no better of a match, even if her shoulder hadn’t been dislocated and one of her arms possibly fractured. As it turned out, zip ties were effective, though they really sucked if one was on the opposite side of ‘em.
The trunk opened and a familiar face stared down, smirking at the pathetic scene, despite her previous bravado.
Leah hacked out a harsh laugh that betrayed the resignation she felt deep in her gut.
“Let’s agree not to insult one another by beating around the proverbial bush, shall we? Why don’t you just tell me—how does this end?”
The smirk of her adversary transitioned into a sneer, followed by a wicked laugh that made her stomach churn.
“You tell us, Campbell.”
