New York: A Bridge & Sword Prequel (Bridge & Sword Series Book 11) by JC Andrijeski

Author:JC Andrijeski
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: White Sun Press
Published: 2018-07-17T06:00:00+00:00

18

CITY PEOPLE

I FELT HIM right as he reached for me. I started to turn, caught a glimpse of blond hair pulled back from a blocky face, a faint smile on full lips––

Then an arm slid around my throat.

It squeezed hard from behind, completely cutting off my air.

In the same motion, he ripped the headset off my head and ear.

He did both things before I could yell.

The shock of that first, violent yank on my neck nearly blacked me out. It slammed me up against a hard body, forcing my head back and sideways. I jerked an elbow back, slamming it into his chest. I did it again, trying to force him to loosen his hold.

He didn’t flinch.

He was already bringing me towards a car on the curb when I’d recovered enough to fight back for real. By then he’d twisted my body sideways, forcing me into an off-balance angle so I could barely walk in the high heels.

A sharp prick stung my neck. A harder pressure made me gasp as liquid was forced through a needle and into my flesh.

I managed to cry out at that point.

He strangled the cry off, fast, using the pressure of his arm on my windpipe.

It occurred to me they’d done this before.

His hold was too precise, the odd angles he used too calculated.

I looked frantically for other people, anyone who might help me.

I saw the bouncer glance at me only to look away, his expression carefully indifferent.

A crowd of people in clubbing attire stared at me from only a few yards away, but none of them made a move to intervene. A flash from someone’s headset told me someone had taken my photo with an illegal image capture.

I saw a woman in a paint-thin, virtual-paneled dress staring at me, her expression conflicted, like she knew something was off but was trying to convince herself it wasn’t. A group of guys cheered, laughing as they saw me struggle.

Most just looked away.

Even after Ponytail yanked the syringe out of my neck, I struggled as he dragged me towards the curb and the car door.

I barely had time to notice it was being held open.

I glimpsed the face of the redhead who’d been carrying the cattle prod earlier that day. He wore street clothes now, and he’d lost the leather jacket. A dark green vinyl jacket replaced it. His curly hair hung loose to his shoulders, making his freckled face look even redder.

The two of them worked together to force me through the open car door.

I fought harder, managing to get enough space around my throat to shriek, kicking out my legs, writhing and dropping my weight to try and get free.

I saw a couple of people step back from the car, giving me and the two men a wide berth. Alarm reflected in a few eyes, but no one tried to help me. No one even spoke out against what they saw happening.

I could only hope at least one of them called the cops on their headsets.

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