Solid Gold: A Red Riley Adventure #3 (Red Riley Adventures) by Stephanie Andrews

Author:Stephanie Andrews [Andrews, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Piscataqua Press
Published: 2018-02-18T22:00:00+00:00

Twenty-two

They locked me in shackles. Honest to goodness shackles, like I was Andromeda, or Antigone, or whoever it was chained to the rock. At least they felt like shackles, I still had a bag over my head. Wide metal cuffs around each wrist, with connecting chains that went up and out, and then attached to the wall, pulling my arms apart so that I had no chance of escape, no chance of even removing the hood.

I strained my ears and could hear a few low voices on the other side of the warehouse. Outside, there were all kinds of crazy sounds, including an occasional gunshot. I was scared and didn’t know what was going to happen. If they were going to kill me, they probably would have already, but that wasn’t much comfort. A future as a white slave didn’t seem much better.

My grim reverie was broken by sudden loud shouts in Spanish and English from the far end of the warehouse.

“We have her!” someone shouted, and my heart sank. Heavy footsteps, I couldn’t tell how many men, crossed to the center of the warehouse. There was a moment of silence, and then a man made a grunt of pain, and there followed the sound of at least three or four guns cocking. Then more silence, then a deep laugh. This blindness thing sucked; I was dying to know what was going on.

“That had to hurt,” said a man’s voice, still laughing. “I told you to stay out of her reach.” Damn, they had Selena.

There was a clanking of metal on cement, and then the voice spoke again. “Put them on your wrists and lock them.”

“I think my leg is broken,” said another voice, with a strong accent. I could hear the pain in his quivering speech, I could picture him grasping his leg, perspiration on his face. No one answered him, and I heard him hop off toward the office.

Metal rang out as chains, presumably attached to Selena, were picked up and attached to something in the air. So far, she hadn’t said a word, but there was a strained exhale, almost a groan, that didn’t sound like a man.

“Holy shit, she’s hot.”

No one answered. The statement spoke for itself.

“I’m going to cut that rubber suit off and see what’s underneath.”

“Not much mystery about that, with the way it fits her.”

“Still, it’ll be fun.”

I pulled hard on my chains. They seem to have forgotten I was there, which was fine by me; I didn’t like the direction the evening was taking. I felt some give on the left cuff: my half hand. Either they hadn’t noticed in the hubbub, or they didn’t think it would matter. I pulled harder and felt a bit more of my hand slide into the wide cuff. I tried to focus my mind on my hand, visualizing it, but my attention was broken by the sound of fabric ripping.

“Alta,” croaked a voice. It was raspy and violent sounding, with a slight Darth Vader respiratory hum to it.

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