Cruel Summer - Page 134

Giovanni had pointed out that I could just smoke pot when I’d told him about my fears, before reminding me that I’d be more out of it if I smoked marijuana.

So harsh, unflattering cigarettes it is.

I take the cigarette from between my lips, holding it by my leg as I try to figure out what in the hell is taking so long.

I’ve never been as eager to be kidnapped as I am right now.

It’s fucking hot out here and every time I take another drag I feel a little more dead inside.

Footsteps sound out in the alleyway and I keep my back to the entrance.

Finally.

I pray that I’m not hit in my head again. Unfortunately, my prayers aren’t answered, which isn’t an actual surprise.

Pain rings through my skull and I let out an involuntary scream, moving my hand to the aching spot. The cigarette falls out of my other hand and it’s barely touched the ground before someone is wrapping a bound around my mouth.

“Bitch is still awake,” someone grumbles.

I brace myself for the impact as soon as I hear the words, but honestly there’s nothing you can truly do when you’re getting knocked out.

Everything goes black.

When I wake up, I don’t know how much time has passed.

I’m sitting in a chair, with my hands cuffed beneath the chair I’m sitting in, the chain stretching just enough to allow me to move an inch.

I’m in some sort of abandoned warehouse, old graffiti covering the walls in a mismatched rainbow. There’s a pipe dripping somewhere and the smell is rancid. I blink, turning my head to try to take in the rest of the room but a man steps into my field of vision.

Sheffield.

He’s wearing a suit, which looks odd against the run down building. His arms are folded over his chest and he’s looking at me as if he’s won the library.

Something touches my foot and I let out a shriek, watching as a rat races across the floor.

My chest tightens and I look back down at my feet.

My bare feet.

Oh no, shit, shit, shit.

Sheffield lets out a cruel chuckle. “Surely you didn’t think I was going to fall for that,” he says, letting out an evil little laugh. He steps forward, holding out his hand and I look at the two little smashed microchips. “I know all about the trackers that Giovanni keeps on you. It’s how he found you the first time I took you. I learned from my previous mistakes though and he’s not going to find you this time until I’m ready for him to.

Dread fills my stomach and I look helplessly at those smashed pieces of technology.

I knew this plan was stupid.

I fucking told Giovanni, but I knew better. The cruel man has a god complex and there wasn’t a thing that could be said to him to dissuade him from this half cocked plan.

And now his arrogance isn’t going to get him what he wanted and I’m going to die not being able to avenge my mother.

Isn’t that some shit.

“Before we could get started last time we were interrupted.” His hands move up to his tie, slowly unknotting the blue piece of silk.

His words from last time about tearing me apart moves through my mind.

“Wait,” I plead, my mind whirling with ways to get out of this.

Tags: Quirah Casey Erotic
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