Hitched to the Heir: The Billionaire's Bride by Ella Slade

Author:Ella Slade [Slade, Ella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Women's Fiction, Contemporary Women, Romance, New Adult & College, Romantic Comedy, Sports, Contemporary Fiction, Action & Adventure, Humor, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Psychological
Amazon: B01F9FRYUY
Goodreads: 30123489
Publisher: Enamored Ink
Published: 2016-05-04T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Five

Tobin was still shaking, still crying. Her tears made it even harder for her to see through the burlap sack over her head, and by this point she wasn’t certain if she was crying more out of relief or terror. Her hands felt numb, restrained again in the zip ties as she slumped down in the backseat of her car, doing her best to judge where the edge of the window was so that she wouldn’t be seen. That was the deal—she wasn’t to be seen, right now, as she was driven to her home in her own car, trapped in the back. She didn’t think her breath would ever even out.

Her ears were still ringing. They were ringing because he had still fired the gun. Fired it into the ceiling of the room where she had tried to save the skinny guy’s life, and she’d been frozen, shaking. The warehouse had seemed to echo all around her for the longest time but she was certain no one outside the building had heard a thing. The auburn-haired brute who had done it had gone to the door before she could even entirely process whether she had been shot or not, and only after several long, long minutes did she realize that it was to keep the other two guys from realizing he hadn’t shot her. Like he was supposed to have. He was supposed to have shot her and he hadn’t. Through the ringing in her ears, Tobin had heard him angrily order them to go and get their car to take the fourth somewhere else, she couldn’t make out where. He had come back after that, roughly telling her that he was going to take her home.

He hadn’t needed to ask where she lived, of course. That knowledge had already started terrifying her, knowing that he had seen her ID, knew her name, knew where she lived and where she worked. But he had shoveled all of her things back into the medical bag, zip-tied her hands, shoved the bag back over her head—and then he had guided her out to where her car had been parked who knew how long ago. He had shoved her into the back, told her to keep her head down, and driven off with her. She didn’t know what he had told the others about where he was going or what he had done, but she didn’t care. They were gone before the others came back and whether or not they bought that she was dead… well, it wasn’t unimportant, but nor did it strictly matter right at this second. Because she was still breathing, and that… that felt vastly more important.

He hadn’t said a word since he had shoved her into the car, though. He also hadn’t told her that if she went to the police, she’d be dead, like she kind of expected him to. Through the sack over her head, it was still dark, before dawn, with the passing

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