After castrating him.
I heard his friend climb into the front and gun the engine.
“Sorry, girls,” Liam said. “Hopefully this won’t get too ugly and you’ll get to go home soon.”
Oh, it would definitely be getting ugly. I promised him that with my eyes.
He ignored me, moving forward to join his friend as the van took off. We didn’t drive far, though. After a few minutes they pulled off the road and came to a stop. Then they stepped out and walked around to the back. Liam’s friend reached in and grabbed Sophie, sitting her up. He dug into her purse, pulling out her phone.
His sleeve rode up as he did it, and my heart stopped.
There was a f**king Devil’s Jacks tattoo on his arm.
Shit. Shit. SHIT.
This was much worse than I ever imagined. I’d spent my whole life hating the Devil’s Jacks. They’d been fighting with the Reapers for twenty years in one way or another. I saw things in a sudden, bright, horribly clear light.
Liam, slowly becoming my friend.
Liam, asking me about my day, talking to me about anything and everything. Liam, always willing to hear me out and encouraging me to share with him.
My good “friend” Liam was a f**king stalker.
A stalker who’d used me to learn about my club, and now he obviously planned to use me against my father. Acid filled my stomach, and for one wretched instant I thought I might vomit and choke myself, because this was the worst thing I could imagine doing.
I’d betrayed my club.
Not knowingly, but that hardly mattered. There would be fresh bodies because of this. Those deaths would be on me and my stupid, impulsive decision to let Liam into my life.
Liam tugged me down and picked me up, carrying me around to the front of the van. He leaned me up against the hood like a spare fence post. I balanced unsteadily, forcing myself to stop glaring at him long enough to look around. We were down by the river, probably near the park somewhere. Above us was one of the high bridges going over the falls, and I realized that if he decided to pitch me over the fence I’d fall a good ten stories before I either smashed on the rocks or drowned.
Would he do it?
Of course he would do it—he was a f**king Devil’s Jack—but only if he was done using me.
Shit.
“Em, look at me,” he said. I glanced at his face to find cold, dead eyes studying me. The eyes of a sociopath.
How could I have been so f**king stupid?
“We’re calling your dad,” he said. “I’ll let you talk to him so you can give him this message. You’ll tell him that you’re with Hunter, the Devil’s Jack he met in Portland. Let him know that we have you and your friend Sophie. Then you’ll tell him that we’ll kill you if he doesn’t do exactly what we say. Got it?”
I nodded. I felt tears start to build in my eyes, but I’d be damned if I’d show him even a hint of weakness. I refused to blink as he pulled out my phone and scrolled through the contacts.
Liam reached up and tugged out my gag, then held the phone to my head. It rang twice.
“Hey, baby, what’s up?” I heard my dad ask.
“Daddy, I’m in some trouble,” I said quietly.
“Talk to me,” he replied, immediately all business.
“I’m here in Spokane with a Devil’s Jack named Hunter,” I said, focusing all my emotions into one horrible, hate-filled glare at Liam. Too bad I didn’t have lasers in my eyes. I was pretty sure I could’ve cut him in half with that look. “He said to tell you that he has me and Sophie. He’s going to kill us if you don’t do what he says. He’s also a giant f**king pu**y, and I think when you catch him, you should let me cut out his balls with a dull spoon before shooting him in the head.”
Liam—Hunter? whoever the hell he was—grinned at me, then pulled away the phone as Dad started shouting. He tugged the gag back up and stuffed it into my mouth, then stepped toward the cliff’s edge, talking softly just out of earshot.
I wobbled, wondering if there was any point in trying to hop away.
Not really.
Hunter spoke for a moment longer, then turned off the phone and casually pitched it over the fence and into the falls.
He turned back and gave me an evil smile.
“Your daddy’s pretty fond of you, Em,” he said. “Things are going to work out just fine.”
Not for him, they wouldn’t.
• • •
The van drove forever, and I lost all sense of time as we jolted around in the back. Hunter and Skid—apparently that was the other ass**le’s name—spoke quietly, making the occasional vague phone call in what had to be some sort of unholy Devil’s Jacks kidnapping code.
I couldn’t communicate with Sophie, but I did everything in my power to send her a message with my eyes. You’re not alone, our men will rescue us. I’m so damned sorry I brought this down on you. Something along those lines.
Not sure it sank in.
She was probably thinking about her little boy, Noah, and wondering if she’d ever see him again.
It was a good question. Wish I knew the answer.
The van finally stopped and they dragged us out. We were in front of a house, an older one. Two stories, big porch, and apparently in the middle of nowhere. There were sparse trees off in the distance and gentle hills that kept me from seeing any other houses.
Great.
Hunter carried me into the living room and set me down on the couch gently. Skid dropped Sophie down next to me, and she struggled to sit up.
“Here’s the situation,” Hunter said. “You’re here as leverage. One of the Reapers down in Portland—Toke—made a real bad call tonight. He went to our house and started shooting, no warning, no provocation.”