Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Jason slams the car door and keeps a grip on my arm, guiding me—no, dragging me—toward a gaping entrance at the side of the warehouse. My breath forms puffs of fog in the cold air, and my heart hammers like it might burst from my chest.
The interior of the warehouse is even darker than outside, but as we move in, I see a faint glow from a distant overhead fixture. It illuminates piles of broken pallets, scraps of metal, and dust dancing in the stale air. The smell is an acrid mix of rust, mold, and something chemical that turns my stomach.
Suddenly, more figures emerge from the shadows. My pulse spikes as I register two men speaking in hushed Russian. They’re big, broad-shouldered, wearing dark coats. One of them lifts a cigarette to his lips, his eyes flicking over me with casual interest, like I’m nothing more than another piece of cargo.
And then I hear the unmistakable squawk of a parrot. My heart lodges in my throat as I spot a cage in the corner, illuminated by the flickering overhead light. Inside the cage, perched on a branch, is a yellow-naped Amazon parrot—bright green with a splash of brilliant yellow on the back of its neck. My jaw drops in shock. “Chester?” I whisper, recognizing him instantly. Chester, the star of the zoo’s bird show, the one with millions of social media followers.
“What the fuck? Who the fuck is she?” one of the Russian men mutters in heavily accented English, giving a nod toward me. His cold gaze sends a shiver down my spine.
Jason steps forward, tightening his grip on my arm. “We brought her for reassurance,” he says, directing his words at the Russians. “She’s the bird expert. She can take care of Chester.”
“What are you planning to do with him?” I snap, fear and anger warring in my chest.
The second Russian man waves a dismissive hand, as though my question is pointless. “You will do what you’re told,” he says flatly. “Chester is valuable. Your job is to keep him healthy and… content. Or else.”
A wave of revulsion washes over me. They’ve kidnapped Chester, the zoo’s most famous bird, for some sinister reason. And apparently, they need someone to care for him—and I’m the perfect candidate. I shoot Heath a glare, realization dawning. He must know nothing about birds.
Heath’s smirk deepens, and he steps closer, tapping the cage with his knuckles. Chester flutters, letting out a sharp squawk and ruffling his feathers. My heart breaks for the poor thing. He doesn’t deserve this. Neither of us does.
“What do you want with the bird?” I demand, trying to keep my voice steady. My heart’s pounding so loudly I can scarcely think. “You realize the whole world knows Chester? He can’t just disappear.”
“That’s none of your concern,” Jason snaps, leaning in so close I can smell the stale coffee on his breath. “All you need to worry about is keeping him happy. And yourself alive.”
I swallow, tasting bile. Orion warned me about the dangers lurking around Jason, around the zoo. Guilt roars in my gut. I should have listened. I shouldn’t have let my hurt feelings cloud my judgment. Now I’m trapped in a grimy warehouse surrounded by men who clearly have no qualms about using violence to get what they want.
One of the Russians nods toward a rickety folding chair. “Sit.” The command is cold, absolute. Jason and Heath maneuver me over, forcing me to sit. My arms are still bound, and my shoulders ache from the strain.
Heath crouches in front of me, that smug expression never leaving his face. “You’re going to cooperate, aren’t you, Briar?” he says, voice mocking. “Because if you don’t, Chester won’t be the only one in a cage.” He glances at Jason. “I don’t know what your obsession is with this bitch. We could have easily kept the bird safe on our own. I say we just kill her.”
Jason steps forward, anger radiating off him. “Shut the fuck up.” He steps closer. “We need her.”
Heath rolls his eyes, and the Russians laugh.
My stomach turns. I glance over at Chester, who’s now eyeing me with what looks like equal parts curiosity and fear. Parrots are perceptive creatures; he must sense the tension. I take a shaky breath, trying to gather whatever courage I have left.
“If you hurt him, I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” Heath cuts in, chuckling darkly. “Let’s be real, Briar. You’re in no position to negotiate.”
I can’t deny that. I’m bound, outnumbered, with no idea where we even are. The harsh truth sinks in: I need to bide my time, look for any opportunity to escape or call for help. And Orion… My chest squeezes at the thought of him. Does he know I’m gone? He must. But is he even looking for me? He lied to me. The memory stings. Yet a tiny flicker of hope remains—he might still try to find me, even if his feelings weren’t what I believed.