But fuck! What on earth could have happened to her? He glanced at his watch again. Seven hours and twenty-three minutes…and counting. She left for the bank over seven hours earlier. He was stumbling around in the dark, praying he’d find her or some sign of her.
He walked another thirty feet but stopped when Wade pulled up in front of him.
Wade got out and nodded. “Anything?”
“No, you?”
“Not a fucking thing.” He pursed his lips. “Several people saw her walking, but none of them saw anything out of the ordinary.”
Ryan leaned against Wade’s car with a heavy exhale. “I just don’t fucking get it.”
“I think it’s time we consider someone might’ve snatched her off the street.” Their eyes met, and Ryan clenched his teeth at the thought. “Ryan, I know that’s not what you want to hear, but the sooner we admit something is really wrong, the sooner we find her.”
Ryan dropped his eyes to Wade’s feet, nodding. “I know…but what? Seriously? What could’ve happened in broad daylight?” He waved a hand at the still busy highway. “On the highway with tons of fucking traffic?”
“Unfortunately, anything. Anything can happen in broad daylight.”
Wade’s words hit Ryan right where it hurt. He turned back toward his car with a prayer on his lips. God, please let her be okay…please keep her safe.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The throbbing at the base of her skull, dull but penetrating, roused her. She was rising and falling, over and over…or ebbing and flowing, actually. She’d spent enough time on boats during her life to recognize the motion right away. She slowly opened her eyes but couldn’t see anything except the pattern of what seemed to be burlap covering her face, and a blue hue beyond that. It wasn’t sky blue, though, more like a blue tarp from the hardware store. She was sweating, and damn, her head hurt. She went to reach for the pain, but her hands were tied together. She tugged, her heart rate pumping higher as she struggled.
Grunting, she fought against the restraints on her hands, but when they wouldn’t loosen, she lifted both hands to pull the covering off her head. She could barely breathe, and she needed some air before she could figure out what to do next. She couldn’t get it completely off her head, so she lifted it enough to clear her mouth. After taking several deep breaths, she tucked it higher so she could see her hands. The rope was thick and scratchy on her skin, and when she struggled, it became tighter against her wrists.
The boat suddenly picked up speed and reared up from the acceleration. Her body rolled with the motion, and it took her a moment to steady herself. Once settled against the seats, she tugged at the knot with her teeth, hoping to get free. After several minutes of fighting the rope, her binds finally slackened. She twisted and pulled until it fell from her hands. Once free, she pulled what was a large burlap bag off her head. She was behind a row of vinyl bucket seats, and the boat was still going really fast.
She rubbed at the pain at the back of her head, and her hand came away sticky. She pulled her fingers around quickly to see blood. Jesus. How long had she been knocked out? She grimaced as she tried to look up, but then swayed back down against the floor of the boat. When the dizziness faded, she tried again, peeking around the seat to see hairy ankles above a pair of beat-up deck shoes. She twisted, fighting to lift up and get a look at the upper half of his body, but she couldn’t without sitting all the way up. Fortunately, the tarp was blowing from the wind of the boat speed, so she could move under it without being noticed.
She propped herself up on one elbow and pushed farther away from the driver’s seat. If she could get up without notice, she could look for a weapon to defend herself.
Her dress was tangled up around her hips, and that made it hard to move at all. When she’d scooted a foot or so, she lifted and sat up, leaning against the side of the boat behind the driver’s seat. She turned and caught a little bit of her abductor’s profile.
Oh, my God! Dex!
Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest at the sight of him. She threw her hands over her face, fighting the urge to scream and cry. Oh, God, that’s right. The memory of meeting him on the street came into focus. How could he— How did this happen? She shook her head violently, instantly wishing she hadn’t. Oh, God. I have to… Her eyes scanned the surrounding area, hoping to find a fishing knife or anything.
Nothing. Damn it.
No. Can’t be. There must be something. She reached down and felt around the floor below the bench seat, and her hand instantly knocked against a plastic container. With a dip of her head, she found the gasoline can stuffed under the seat. She closed her eyes. Think, Bailey.
The can was plastic and would probably just bounce off his head, but if she could get the cap off and throw the gas in his face… The boat lurched to a stop, sending her to the floor in a heap.
Dex must have heard her hit the floor, and seconds later, the tarp was pulled off her. When Bailey realized she had only seconds to do something, she snatched the gas can out from under the seat and swung it out as he leaned over to grab her.
“Fuck you, Dex!” she huffed as she nailed him
