Shit.

I was carted into a cabin and thrown on the couch, then arranged in a seated position.

When the new goon moved away, I could see Terry Wilcox was sitting opposite me in an armchair.

It was a nice cabin, very swish, the kind of rental for upper, upper middle class Texans to hire when they felt like a change of scenery. Two guys were with us, both steroid-fuelled, like Goon Gary, Terrible Teddy and The Moron but I had never seen these guys.

“Take off her gag,” Wilcox ordered.

Both of the guys were dark-headed, one darker than the other and taller and maybe hitting the pharmaceutical websites a little too hard. He came forward and took off the gag. The minute he did, I realized how tight it was because my cheeks hurt. I opened and closed my mouth to exercise my cheek muscles.

Then I glared at Wilcox. “That hurt.”

“I’m sorry, India. Precautions. We can’t be too careful, can we?”

Was that a dig at my idiot act of walking out of my house and into the clutches of the villain?

My eyes narrowed.

I knew I was an idiot, I didn’t need this guy rubbing it in.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

He ignored me. “Don’t worry. We don’t have to wait too long. The plane will be ready soon and we’ll be leaving.”

Uh-oh.

Did he say “plane”?

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“You and I are going to disappear. We’re taking a long vacation.”

I stared at him.

I wasn’t getting a good feeling about this.

“I don’t want to go on vacation with you,” I informed him, I thought, unnecessarily.

“You’ll enjoy yourself.”

My eyes got wide. “Enjoy myself?”

“Shopping, eating in the finest restaurants. I’ll get you anything you want. We’ll go wherever you want. I’ll show you the world.”

Wow, Lee wasn’t wrong. This guy was nuts.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me. I said, I don’t want to go on vacation with you.”

“We’ll spend time together. You get to know me, you’ll like me.”

Yep, totally nuts.

“You kill people,” I told him.

“I do what I have to do to get what I want.”

Holy crap.

“I don’t like people who kill people. They’re creepy. You’re creepy.”

Perhaps I should have been more careful with what I said but it was like he had selective hearing and he chose not to hear that part.

“We’ll have to stay out of sight for awhile. I have a friend who’s letting us use his lovely house, on the beach in Costa Rica.”

Oh my God.

This guy was talking about lovely beach houses to a woman he kidnapped.

Totally a nut.

“You’re creepy and icky,” I broke in, hoping to get through to him. “I don’t want to go to a beach house in Costa Rica with a creepy, icky guy who looks like Grandpa Munster.”

He continued to ignore me and my insults. “You can sunbathe every day. I’ll buy you two dozen bikinis. I think six months, maybe more. Then, perhaps, we’ll go to Paris.”

“I’m not going on vacation with you. I’m staying here,” I announced.

At this, he smiled his oily smile.

Serious euw.

Time to get down to it.

“Listen,” I said, changing tactics and leaning forward to show my sincerity, “I’m really um…” I was losing it, I couldn’t think of a suitable lie. I couldn’t remember the last time I couldn’t think of a suitable lie. I just went with the first word that popped in my head, no matter how hard it was to say it. “Honored that you like me and everything but I’m in love with Lee. I’ve been in love with Lee since I was five. We’re living together. We’re going to get married, eventually, when he asks me. He has it all planned out.”

“I’ll help you forget Nightingale,” Wilcox told me.

Okay, seriously, this guy was nuts. Even if he wasn’t a weird, creepy, icky, scary bad guy who killed people, there wasn’t a woman alive who would forget Liam Nightingale, especially if she’d seen him naked.

And what was taking Lee so long? He should have stormed in here and saved the day by now, surely. I was somewhat experienced with being kidnapped and now was about the time for a grenade or tear gas or Lee to saunter in looking badass and pissed off and scaring everyone into doing what he wanted.

“Perhaps you should be asleep for the first part of our journey.” Wilcox broke into my somewhat fevered thoughts.

I realized my mistake at once. I’d been spending so much time talking to Wilcox, I hadn’t paid attention to the Steroid Sidekicks. One was walking toward me, carrying a loaded syringe.

I stared at him coming toward me and I felt the chill of fear.

This was just like in those movies, where they tranquillized the heroine and she woke up lying on silk pillows wearing an I Dream of Jeannie outfit and finding herself a member of a harem where all the other girls hated her.

I didn’t want to be a member of Terry Wilcox’s harem, even if I was the only one.

My mind filled with colliding thoughts and I realized I had two choices, let him drug me and sleep through my (hopeful) rescue or, well, I didn’t know what my second choice was, considering my extremities were tied together.

I was fond of naps but only those I took myself or fell into naturally, not those induced by overdeveloped henchmen.

I watched him come at me and did the only thing I could do, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

I rolled to the floor, rolled into him and took him off his feet. He fell over and hit the deck with a grunt and an oath.

I kept rolling to get away from him and struggling to get out of my bounds.

This, surprisingly worked (almost). My hands must not have been tied very well because they started to come lose.

Once I dropped Bad Guy Number One, Bad Guy Number Two came at me, I rolled to my back, lifted my legs and as Tex and The Kevster suggested, I aimed right between his.

I missed, but nailed him in the thigh with a good deal of force and some seriously pissed off attitude. He staggered back and went down on a knee.

I kept struggling to get my hands free, reared up with a crunch of the abs that would do any personal trainer proud and found my feet. With my momentum and weight, feet and arms still bound, I toppled over and hit him, head to the chest and we both went down, rolling and struggling, him trying to get a hold of me and me squirming like crazy.

I was beginning to get ticked.

Where.

The hell.

Was Lee?

Finally, I freed one hand from the bounds and shook the other one free of the rope and started fighting in earnest.

This didn’t last long. Even though I had the use of my hands, he was stronger and he subdued me, humiliatingly quickly. He yanked me, still squirming, to my feet, whipped me around so my back was to his front and his hands held my wrists behind me.

“Give her the shot. Now,” Wilcox ordered.

He hadn’t even bothered coming out of his chair, the jerk. He was totally calm, eerily calm. Like he knew he was going to get away with this.

Bad Guy Number One came at me again with the syringe.

I felt a moment of total fear, no chill this time. This was so much fear, I was certain I’d pee my pants.

Instead, I screamed.

It was loud, it was shrill and even though I was the one screaming, it even freaked me out.

When I quit screaming, I started struggling, harder this time, desperate.

But it was no use.

Holy crap.

I was going on vacation with Creepy Grandpa Munster.

How did this happen?

I hadn’t even had a whole, complete day being out about my love for Lee and being able to enjoy that in all the shapes and forms that would take.

I had a sweet new t-shirt from Lucky Brand Jeans in a bag in the backseat of Willie’s Pathfinder that I’d never get to wear.

This meant, I might never see Lee’s cabin in Grand Lake.

This also meant I might never have his children and tell them bedtime stories about how there was never a time when their Mom and Dad hadn’t been together.

This… could not… happen.

As a last resort, I screamed, “No!”

But no one heard me scream.

This was because, at the same time, there was a gunshot.

Bad Guy Number One with the syringe shouted out a cry of pain, the syringe went flying, he buckled and went down.

When he did, I saw Eddie standing behind him, his gun in his hand and it was smoking.

Thank… you… God.

It might seem terrible that I was thanking the good Lord that someone got shot but if divine retribution came in the form of Eddie Chavez and his service revolver, I was not going to quibble.

Before I could react, or look around to see where Lee was, I heard from behind me in a voice I knew.

“Let her go.”

It wasn’t Lee.

It was Darius.

My wrists were let go and I turned my head and saw Darius, standing behind and partially beside Bad Guy Number Two, a gun to his temple.

Wow.

“Step back,” Darius said and Bad Guy Number Two and Darius moved back several steps.

Eddie came forward, gun pointed at the man on the floor who was rolling around, hands holding his thigh, blood seeping between his fingers.

I stared in horror. I wasn’t really good with blood and there seemed to be a lot of it.

“Move away, Indy,” Eddie ordered and without the ability to walk, I hopped several feet, then sat on the floor to untie the rope from around my ankles, eyes up and watching.

Eddie moved his gun to Wilcox, who finally had stood, and he snapped, “Sit.”