Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
After what feels like hours, we pull into a gas station. The bright overhead lights are almost jarring after the darkness of the highway, casting long shadows on the pavement.
“I’ll fill up,” Ranger says, turning off the engine. “Do you need anything?”
“I need the restroom,” I reply, my voice still shaky.
He nods, his eyes locking onto mine. “Go ahead, but don’t take too long. I’ll be right here.”
I step out of the truck, clutching my phone tightly in my hand as I head toward the gas station convenience store. The cool night air bites at my skin, and I wrap my arms around myself, glancing back at Ranger. He’s standing by the pump, his sharp gaze following my every step.
I feel a small flicker of relief knowing he’s watching me. I’m safe.
The bell above the door jingles as I step inside, the harsh fluorescent lights making the interior feel sterile and cold. I spot the restroom sign in the corner and hurry toward it, eager to get this over with so we can get back on the road.
The restroom is small but clean enough, and I take a moment to splash cold water on my face, trying to calm my nerves. My reflection stares back at me from the mirror, wide-eyed and pale.
“You’re okay,” I whisper to myself. “You’re okay.”
But the moment I step out of the restroom, something feels wrong. The air feels heavy, the store too quiet. I glance toward the door leading back outside, and my breath catches in my throat.
A hand clamps over my mouth before I can scream, and strong arms wrap around me, dragging me backward. My phone slips from my fingers, clattering to the floor as I kick and thrash against my captor, but it’s no use.
“Shut up,” a voice hisses in my ear, low and menacing.
Panic floods me as I’m dragged out a side door I didn’t even notice before. My heart pounds in my chest, and I try to scream for Ranger, but the sound is muffled by something shoved into my mouth.
The cold night air hits my skin as I’m forced toward a van parked on the side of the building. The back doors are flung open, and I’m tossed inside like a sack of potatoes.
I scramble to sit up, my eyes darting wildly around the dark interior. That’s when I see them.
My blood runs cold.
It’s the same guys from the diner.
Tank Top is there, his cocky smirk illuminated by the dim light overhead. The others are close behind him, their faces twisted into cruel grins.
“Well, well,” Tank Top drawls, crossing his arms as he looks down at me. “I bet you never expected to ever see us again, huh?”
I try to scream, try to kick or fight, but one of them pins me down, his grip like iron on my shoulders. Tears sting my eyes as fear floods every inch of my body.
Ranger.
He’ll realize I’m gone. He has to.
But for now, I’m alone, trapped in a van with the very men I’d been so desperate to avoid. And all I can do is pray Ranger finds me before it’s too late.
Chapter 23
Ranger
Something feels wrong.
It’s not anything I can put my finger on—just a cold knot settling deep in my gut after I watched Tory walk into the gas station. I keep my eyes on the entrance, leaning against the truck with my arms crossed, scanning the lot for anything out of place.
She’s only been inside for a few minutes, but every second feels like an eternity.
Then I see it.
A black van parked on the far edge of the lot, engine running. The windows are dark, but I can feel the tension rolling off it. My heart slams in my chest, and every instinct I’ve honed over the years kicks into overdrive.
“Tory,” I mutter under my breath, already moving toward the gas station entrance.
Before I can make it halfway there, the van lurches forward, tires screeching as it peels out of the lot.
No.
My stomach drops, and I break into a sprint, my eyes locking onto the van as it speeds down the road. The driver comes into view.
Tank Top Man.
“Tory!” I yell, but it’s useless. She’s not here. She’s in that van.
I dive back into the truck, my hands shaking with adrenaline as I start the engine. The tires squeal as I pull out of the lot, my foot slamming the gas pedal to the floor.
I know they have her.
The van weaves through traffic ahead of me, trying to blend in, but it’s too late. I’ve got them in my sights, and I’m not letting them out of it.
“Tory,” I growl under my breath, gripping the wheel so tightly my knuckles turn white. “I’m coming for you.”
The van takes a sharp turn onto a side road, and I follow, the truck roaring as I push it harder. My mind races through every possibility, every scenario, but one thought overrides them all: