Abducted. Samantha Keith

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СКАЧАТЬ had to move fast.

      “Don’t move!” he whispered fiercely. She was panicked. Her fingernails pinched his skin through the latex glove as she clawed at the hand on her mouth. She tried to scream, her cries pitiful from behind his hand. He wouldn’t be able to knock her out until she calmed down a bit.

      “Stay still,” he rasped against her ear. He held her tight against his chest, until her thrashes slowed.

      “I’m going to move my hand now, and we’re going to get off the bed. Don’t scream.” She jerked her head in response. He released his death grip on her jaw. He winced at the stiffness in his hand. Her fingers settled over her face to replace his. Shit. He had hurt her.

      “I need you to stand up now,” he instructed softly. She nodded again, and with his hand still around her waist they moved off the bed. The material of her shirt was even thinner than it had looked. The smooth, satiny texture of her skin made his fingers tingle through the wispy cotton and latex gloves. Her feet touched the ground first, because of how close she was to the edge. He shifted over, his hand still firm on her waist. With a flutter of movement, her bony elbow clipped him square in the jaw. His teeth slammed together and left a sandy taste in his mouth, stunning him. She tore herself from his grip.

      “Help!” Her desperate shriek snapped him to his feet. He threw his full 225 pounds at her and tackled her to the floor. She landed on her back and he on top of her. She kicked and struggled. Her body bucked wildly in an attempt to throw him. Unfortunately for her, he was easily twice her size. She only succeeded at turning him on as her breasts jiggled beneath her shirt. It was hard for him not to notice how soft and lithe she was, how pert her breasts were and how smooth her legs. His jaw worked at the direction his mind was going. This was wrong—all of it.

      “Let me go, you sonofabitch!” Her fists flew aimlessly. One after the other connected with his forearms. He caught both of her wrists in one hand and pinned them to her stomach, then lowered himself so he was lying on her chest. A sharp pain seized him in his back as her knee connected with his tailbone.

      “You’re making this a hell of a lot harder on yourself,” he muttered. Until he had her fully restrained, he couldn’t chance taking the chloroform out. She’d go even more ballistic. After she landed another blow to his back, he shifted his feet and pinned her legs in place. She was quick, but no match for his mixed martial arts training.

      “What do you want?” Her words came out in gasps. Due to his weight on her, she couldn’t get enough air in to yell. He didn’t answer. With his free hand, he pulled out the rag and the vial. She stilled as she watched him. Her eyes grew huge. Hysteria assailed her. He numbed his mind to her panic. He had to do this. He was her only chance.

      “No, help!” She thrashed and twisted, trying desperately to escape. With a steady hand, he opened the vial to pour the contents onto the rag.

      “Please, stop.” She was sobbing, her body jolting beneath him with each breath. He couldn’t take it anymore; he needed to get her unconscious. He picked up the rag and brought it down on her mouth, smothering her pleas. Her head shook from side to side as she tried valiantly to breathe in fresh air.

      “Shh…it’s okay.” He couldn’t help himself. All he wanted to do was reassure her and stop her from crying. After only a minute, her head lolled to the side and she lay completely still. He waited an extra couple of seconds, then removed the rag. Her cheeks and chest were wet with tears. Acid burned the inside of his stomach at the sight. He had been here much longer than he’d anticipated. Lana Vanderpoel had put up a damn good fight. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. Had she been a man, she wouldn’t have lasted two seconds.

      He got to his feet and searched her room. He couldn’t walk out with her slung over his shoulder. He grabbed a dark blanket off the bed and bundled it around her limp body. He had originally planned to buy her some clothes to wear, but hadn’t gotten around to it. Spotting her dresser against the wall, he strode over to the drawers and pulled out a sweater and sweatpants. He knelt down and tucked the clothes into the blanket with her. He picked up his bundle and tossed her over his shoulder. Lana was small, probably no more than 110 pounds, but dead weight was difficult to manage.

      He gripped her thighs tightly and weaved his way through the dark house, not daring to turn on a light. Although he had managed to cut off her screams, she had made some noise. He doubted anyone had heard, but nonetheless, he needed to get the hell out. Once he reached the door, he opened it a crack and waited for the camera. At the right moment, he slipped out and shut the door behind him. He was at the gate in less than thirty seconds. He punched in the code, the gate swung open dutifully, and he strode out as if he were no one other than the mailman.

      Tomorrow would be Sunday. No one would suspect that she was missing until Monday, when she didn’t show up for work. He climbed into the back of the utility van he had borrowed from a friend, which had the name of a popular plumbing company embossed on the side. He unwrapped her.

      She was out. Her chest rose and fell in peaceful sleep. Due to the amount of chloroform he had given her, she would probably be out cold for a while and would wake disoriented and nauseous. He had rented a cabin that was nearly a two-hour drive away. It was in a secluded area on the beach. They wouldn’t be able to stay there long, but he needed to buy them some time while he devised a plan. Before he headed to the cabin, though, he would stop, change vehicles, and ditch the plumber’s van.

      Lana moaned softly in her sleep, pulling him out of his trance. He reached into his bag, pulled out a roll of duct tape, and began to tape her wrists. He didn’t waste time doing her ankles. If she woke up before they arrived, she would be so groggy that she wouldn’t even be able to get to her feet. He covered her from head to toe in the blanket and climbed into the front seat.

      After twenty minutes or so, he pulled up to his own truck and loaded her into the back seat. It was spacious, and with the seats folded back there was plenty of room. She was still blissfully asleep, but not for long. How was he going to explain to her why he’d taken her? Would she believe the truth? Leaving her to sleep, he slid into the driver’s seat and began the commute to the cabin.

      Chapter 4

      A sick feeling in the pit of her stomach was the first thing that tugged her out of the deep sleep.

      Cramps?

      No. That wasn’t it. What the heck was the matter with her? Her body rose and dropped involuntarily. Nausea bubbled in her throat. She wanted to sit up, but her head weighed a ton. Why was she so dizzy? She pulled her knees in closer to her chest. She reached for her stomach…but couldn’t budge her hands. She tried again. Something tugged on her wrists. An alarm went off in her head. She dared to open one eye, just a slit.

      This wasn’t her bed. It wasn’t even soft. What was this rough, scratchy blanket around her? She opened both eyes. Nausea hit her like a punch to the solar plexus. She closed her eyes on another wave. She was moving. No, she was in something that was moving—a vehicle.

      Her heart beat rapidly against her breastbone. Terror sank its sharp teeth into her flesh. She was lying on the floor of a vehicle, her wrists bound, her body covered. She took a soundless deep breath and tried to calm herself. What was the last thing she remembered?

      She had gone out, that’s right. To a nightclub, and she had gone with friends. Carly had given her a ride home. She remembered the whole night—had she even been drunk? She had gone to bed, she was sure of it. She remembered washing up and curling up in her cozy, warm sheets…but nothing after that.

      No, wait. Something had scared her.

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