“Reason? Reason?” he ground out. “I got lots of reasons. A pack of wolves at the Dancing Pony ready to descend on me. Secrets at home I gotta keep buried. Stops I gotta make to get what’s mine and get the hell out of this damn town with all its nosey damn people. I thought it all out and you’re what I need right now. You and your hooker friend are my insurance.”
Emily Anne showed gumption when she scowled at him. “For the last damn time, I am not a hooker!”
The stranger put the gun to Emily Anne’s chest and she gasped and slammed her mouth shut so hard her teeth clicked together.
“I don’t give a shit what you call yourself nowadays. A hooker is a hooker.”
Indignant that he poked poor Emily Anne with the gun, terrifying her until she was white as a sheet, Lucy said, “What do you want?”
“For you to shut the hell up and come with me.” He squinted at Lucy. “You parked out back?”
“No. Out front. Right there.” She pointed at her red Ford Escape parked at the curb, careful not to make any sudden moves.
“Shit,” he muttered. “Well, that’ll have to do. They’ll be looking for my car.” He shifted the gun so it was pointed at her and said, “Get your keys. Nothing else. And no funny stuff because I’ll be watching you like a hawk.”
He grabbed Emily Anne by the upper arm and dragged her with them as Lucy backed up with her hands in the air to the office. Slowly, she reached for the keys on the desk and lifted them to hand to him.
He pointed the gun at Emily Anne. “She’s driving. We’re taking a ride.”
Never allow yourself to be taken from one location to another. Self-defense 101!
“If you think you might want to try some funny stuff, don’t, or your friend is dead on the sidewalk and you’re next.” He jabbed the gun muzzle into Emily Anne’s ribs and she whimpered. “Out the front door. No trying to attract attention.” He tucked the gun in his pocket but kept it pressed against Emily Anne’s ribs as he directed them to the front door with a frown and the motion of his chin.
Lucy pushed open the door of her shop, swearing that the second he had his back turned she was going to teach him a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget…as soon as her knees stopped knocking together. The sidewalk was completely deserted in both directions as they walked the few yards away from her spa and her brother’s studio…away from safety.
She hit the unlock button on the remote and handed Emily Anne the keys. He gruffly directed all three of them to the driver’s door. Emily Anne climbed in as he jerked open the door behind hers and roughly pushed Lucy onto the seat and climbed in after her. Pulling the door closed, he yanked the gun from his pocket and growled at Emily Anne. “Don’t you dare run, bitch. If you do, I’ll shoot this one, and then take aim at you next.” To demonstrate his seriousness, he pushed the muzzle against Lucy’s chest. “Do not try me.”
“Okay. Okay,” Emily Anne said placatingly as she fumbled with the key ring. It took several tries before she got the right key in her hand and stuck it in the ignition. “Where do I go?”
“Pull out on Main Street and head south out of town.”
“South?” Emily Anne asked.
“That way, dumbass!” he gestured out the windshield and she nodded. The starter screeched when she turned the ignition switch again and she cringed and said, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t shoot us!” Lucy reached out to comfort her by patting her shoulder and the man knocked her hand away with the butt of the gun then jammed it back into Lucy’s ribs. Her hand stung and throbbed.
“Pull shit like that again and you’ll be sorry. Now put it in gear and drive the speed limit out of here. Don’t do anything to draw attention. I’m watching you.”
Lucy jerked away from him, hoping to get him to ease up the pressure, but he just jammed the revolver even harder into her ribs and held on to her arm tighter. She tried to keep her temper in check, even though she figured it was better to be angry than to be scared.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, and why are you doing this, damn it?”
The son of a bitch grunted and said, “You know who I am. You can call me either Bruce Smith, or Ralph Baxter. Take your pick.”
Smith. Baxter. Oh damn, the man Emily Anne was telling me about. The reason for the meeting at the Dancing Pony.
“Is that name supposed to mean something to me?” Why in the hell is he taking the risk on two counts of kidnapping when the statute of limitations has likely expired on Chloe’s claim?
“Shut the hell up. I need to think.”