Hostage by Stone Piper

Author:Stone, Piper
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stormy Night Publications
Published: 2019-10-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Carina

Dead.

I’d been right.

I was always right.

Tears rushed to my eyes, burning even as I tried to wipe them away. There was no reason I should care for Ruger, but I did. I’d felt connected to him from that first moment. Why couldn’t he be truthful with me? Why couldn’t he confide everything he knew?

Jesus. I was a mess, falling apart at the seams. Maybe this was exactly what all three of them wanted, just another method of breaking me down to a primitive level. Sniffing, I took another sip of the bourbon, loathing the taste in my mouth. I hated the fact I couldn’t think rationally. I held my breath, counting to ten. I was a freaking prosecutor. I could put the pieces of the puzzle together.

I’d been kidnapped by three men, only one of which had done this before—supposedly.

They were just as upset as I was as to what was going on—supposedly.

They believed that we were all going to die if orders weren’t followed to the letter—supposedly.

I could handle this situation, even figure out a way to get the hell away from them.

Supposedly.

Fantastic. I was no better off than I’d been hours before.

Laughing, I took another swig of my drink, this time savoring the burn sliding down the back of my throat. I needed to look at this a different way, without making assumptions.

This ruse was going to lead to not just my death but also my three abductors. Of that, I had no doubt. Whether this was Santana’s doing or Lucian Masters and his gang of merry men, that much I could embrace with certainty.

The three abductors weren’t entirely in on their game, which meant this wasn’t a normal situation.

And the other even more wretched realization?

I cared about one of them very much.

Laughing, I rubbed my forehead, realizing I was shaking like a leaf. I’d been without sleep or decent food for several hours. Exhaustion was forming fantasies in my mind. There was no other explanation for my ridiculous thoughts.

The shit was getting even better and better. At least I wasn’t lying to myself any longer.

And at least I knew their names. I said them over and over again in my mind, trying to put the remaining pieces together. Just before walking out the door, Damien had accosted Ruger, demanding that he share whatever secrets the man harbored with me. I’d been right in my assumptions. Ruger was protecting someone else—a solid reason for accepting his role in the blackmail scheme. Damien had pissed off someone important—a possible reason for him to be involved. How? In what manner? Did it matter?

An idea shot into my mind.

The two of them did know each other, but from sometime in the past. That would account for their surly demeanors.

I held the glass to my head as I stood on the deck, shivering from a combination of the cold as well as the ugly realization that my death warrant had been signed.

This wasn’t just a nightmare any longer. This was playing Russian roulette with my life.

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