There was a single window on the back, which showed a flash of dark hair and suits. Then nothing.
Was it the Adlers?
The Adler family was a crime syndicate in Sage City but had their ties in Cresting Heights, and in other states, though they had ended their protection of the Dahlia District recently. My best friend, Teagen, had been abducted by them. The dark hair, the suits, the van—all of it screamed the Adlers.
Did Roland have something to do with this? Had he given Adlers a renewed interest in the Dahlia District?
The van’s engine rumbled as it started moving. I checked my pockets; they had taken my phone and my wallet. Shit. As steady as I could, I got on my knees, cringing at the pain, then lifted my head, trying to see out of the window. The lights along the highway disappeared, leaving a dark road in its place. Where were they taking me? I couldn’t see anything, and I wasn’t familiar enough with the roads to get any clues. I slumped back down, then tried to think.
Think. Think. Think.
We slammed to a halt. The front doors opened and shut. The crunch of gravel. Multiple feet. Then a familiar voice:
“You’ve got some cargo that belongs to me,” a deep, smooth, but muffled voice.
Roland.
“I’m afraid this cargo is ours now,” one of the men responded.
“I’m only going to tell you once. Give me the woman,” Roland said.
The woman, me?
Wait. Why was Roland here? How did he—
“She’s ours now. Boss’s orders.”
“Trust me, I can make an appropriate arrangement with your leader,” Roland said, “But there are no guarantees you can make one with me, if you don’t hand her over now.” There was an edge to his voice like he was sneering at them.
“The hell you want with a whore?”
“I’ve got unfinished business with her.”
“Move your car or we’ll move it for you.”
Gunshots sounded. Two—no, three. What the fuck?! Then a loud wail. What was going on? I listened, trying to figure out who was still alive. If Roland died trying to defend me, then they would probably kill me too, saying to hell with their boss’s orders.
Footsteps. Only one person.
The doors to the back of the van opened.
Light flooded inside of the van, silhouetting his face. Roland held out a hand.
“Come on,” he said. “We’ve got to run.”
“What?”
He pointed to the woods. “Go. Before the others come.”
“You don’t have a car?”
In a louder voice, he howled: “Go, Iris!”
I jumped and ran into the woods. Twigs crunched under my feet, the rustle of the vines of ivy leaves brushing against my clothes. Roland followed behind me. Once we got deep enough, I looked back. There was nothing. No cars. No backup. Nothing. Had we lost them? Or was it something else? Heavy breaths panted through me. Roland slowed too. The road was far away. It was dark. I could barely see anything.
Roland leaned on a tree next to us. Then he looked at his palm, staring at the sap. He shrugged, then resumed leaning on it again. There was dirt on his pants, and his button-up shirt was undone at the top, no tie.
So he had enough time to relax, but not enough to change into casual clothes. How had he known where I was?
“What happened back there?” I asked.
“I don’t know for sure,” he said calmly, “but it looks like you were kidnapped. And I saved you.”
The smirk on his face was irritating. I wanted to slap him. But he wasn’t lying. He had saved me, though I wasn’t sure from what. And I had to make myself valuable, which included holding back those urges to slap him. Still, the sarcasm escaped me.
“Yay,” I said dryly. “All hail my knight in shining armor.”
“This is serious, Iris,” he said. “Do you have any enemies?”
Besides Kendall? I shrugged. “None that would abduct me.” I took in a sharp breath, the adrenaline still pulsing in my veins, my heart trying hard to catch up. “Did they know you?”
“Probably. Most people do.”
I rolled my eyes. “How did you know where to find me?”
“I have a sixth sense,” he joked.
“Come on,” I said in a mocking tone, “This is serious, Roland.”
He shrugged. “I mean, it’s possible. Don’t knock the unknown until you can prove it doesn’t exist.”
What was with this guy? I sighed. He wasn’t going to give me a real answer, so I moved on: “Are they dead?”
“They’re something.”
“Did you know them?”
“You ask too many questions.”
“I don’t understand.” I rubbed my forehead. “What happened?”
My stomach turned. My adult life had been simple. The Dahlia District had its own problems, but at least I knew what to expect. I knew how to help make it a better place for the servers, and that comforted me. Because I wasn’t homeless. I was in a place where people counted on me, where I was needed, and I trusted everyone to do their part. A place where men were the least of my worries; they were only club members or security guards. There were too many protections to keep them from getting near me unless I wanted them to.
And then Roland Price happened. Now, I wasn’t the scary dominatrix that could bend in half, but the contortionist who had sold out and submitted to a man, and then gotten abducted when she tried to escape. By men. More men. How had so much gone wrong in my life so quickly?
Roland moved closer towards me, his fresh, minty and masculine scent intoxicating, like spearmint and eucalyptus leaves wrapping me into his husk. The insects hummed, in tune with the electricity palpable between us. His gaze was intense, focused on me, in my sweatpants and hoodie. He held my shoulders.
“Be happy you’re alive.”
The smoldering gaze locked me in. I bit my lip. I didn’t trust him. None of this added up. But I could tell what he wanted.
I couldn’t do that. Not now.
Or I could… Make myself invaluable to him.
His eyes glittered in the night, following my body, taking me in. I panted, still unable to calm myself. His hands were on my shoulders, heavy and firm, but it wasn’t sexual. It was grateful. Protective. Caring.
Why did I want him? Why now?
Because he had rescued me?
His hand cupped the back of my head, his fingers in my hair, inching across my scalp. So slow that I thought I might scream. Get it over with. Do it. But he played with me, one small touch at a time.