Unshakeable Pursuit (Christian Romantic Suspense)

Chapter 10a

When Geoffrey turned his attention from the man in the T-shirt, Maylin realized she'd shouldn't have called his name. Stupid, stupid!

"Let her go." Geoffrey's eyes were blazing green-gold. She'd never seen him look this way before, like an avenging angel.

Then the man holding Maylin said in Cantonese to the one behind Geoffrey, "Grab him and let's go."

Geoffrey began struggling with the larger man. Maylin began struggling, too. "Let me go!"

The man pressed the gun hard into her ribs. "Stop or I shoot."

She stopped, but her mind seemed to suddenly focus with absolute clarity. If they'd wanted to kill her, they already would have. They wanted her alive.

When Geoffrey fell to the ground, her heart stopped. Pain and pressure in her chest made her realize she'd stopped breathing, too.

She gasped in air and began struggling again, but the man grabbed her arm hard. Pain shot up her shoulder, and she stilled.

The man standing over Geoffrey cussed in Chinese.

"What did you do that for?" snarled the one with the gun. "We needed him. We can't move him if he's unconscious."

"Shut up, I know that. This was your brilliant idea in the first place. You're too impulsive."

"Let's just go."

So the plan to kidnap her—and Geoffrey, apparently—had been a spur of the moment thing. The men had overheard Geoffrey mention, just before they entered the dance club, that Chester Wong wanted them dead.

And they wanted Geoffrey and Maylin, because Chester Wong wanted Geoffrey and Maylin.

"Take her," said the man with the gun, and shoved her in the direction of the larger man. He holstered his gun under his leather jacket. The man in the T-shirt put a hand on her upper arm in a firm but not tight grip. She knew she couldn't fight him, and he did, too.

They walked only a block and turned down a narrow street that ran behind a row of restaurants and along the blank side wall of another warehouse. There was a rank smell like a dumpster. Their car was parked there, blocking the street.

The man in the jacket opened the trunk of the car, and Maylin tensed at the thought of being shoved inside. But then she noticed something.

The trunk was a mess of receipts, jumper cables, an umbrella, a tire iron. They hadn't prepared the car for a passenger, and the man in the jacket reached in and removed the tire iron and jumper cables.

And she was still holding Geoffrey's car keys.

She had to act now, before he took that umbrella.

She dropped Geoffrey's keys while at the same time kicking out at the man in front of her, shoving him a foot or two away. The larger man's hand on her arm tightened, but she slammed her foot hard on his instep, then elbowed his solar plexus. His grip loosened slightly, and she reached into the trunk, grabbing a handful of receipts and the umbrella.

She swung the umbrella at the larger man, but he caught it easily and wrenched it from her hands. Then he backhanded her.

She fell to the asphalt, her entire head throbbing. The smell was horrendous—rotting food, urine, motor oil. But through her half-lidded eyes, she saw the receipts scattered on the ground.

That had been her main goal.

The larger man hauled her to her feet, making the pain explode in her head like a bomb had gone off. She only barely registered the pain from her shoulder as he threw her into the trunk, shoving her legs inside.

The trunk smelled better than the asphalt, but the air also felt close, even though she knew logically she couldn't suffocate in here. The matted carpet of the floor scratched her cheek, a counterpoint to the throbbing.

The men started the car and they drove away. Away from Geoffrey, away from help. She was all alone.

The pain was receding, but the darkness in the trunk, punctuated by the light glimmering from between cracks on the edge of the cover, felt heavy and thick.

She needed light. She needed air. She needed to tell someone she was in this trunk.

She began kicking at the taillights. She could kick it out and signal to someone driving behind them that she was there.

But in a few minutes, the car pulled over and parked. Footsteps crunching on gravel, then the trunk opened.

She immediately kicked out, but the larger man grabbed her ankle. Then he pulled back a beefy arm and darkness descended.

***

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This is book #4.2 in my Sonoma romantic suspense series, so if you like my writing, check out my other books in the series.

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