Trouble in a Tight Dress (Six Points Security, #1) Read online

  Self-consciously, she tugged at her dress as though she could make it grow a few inches longer. Not that the blood-red party dress was indecent or anything, but she’d feel a lot more comfortable in her usual jeans and tee.

  Even though she didn’t want to, she stepped away from the club, determined to avoid Ivan’s minion at all costs. One of her heels came down on something slimy, and it was all she could do not to fall flat on her ass.

  All she needed to do was cut down the side street to the main road and walk a block to the garage where she’d parked her car. Then again, if the guy had tracked her to the bar, he might have people watching the garage. And her apartment. In that case, she was probably better off getting a cab and staying the night at a hotel. Come morning, she’d figure out what to do next.

  In reality, she knew what she had to do next, and the thought of running again made her heart clench in her chest. She loved her job, her friends—her life—but she didn’t see any other choice. There was too much to lose if she stayed, and she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if anyone she loved got hurt. Leaving was the only way to keep the people she cared about safe.

  She stopped, retrieved her phone from her purse, and was in the process of opening the Uber app when a strong arm grabbed her around the waist while another shoved a damp cloth over her mouth.

  The phone hit the ground as she let out a scream, but the sound was muffled by the fabric. Her gaze darted about, but she didn’t see anyone who might be able to help her. When she gasped, a pungent, sickly-sweet odor swamped her senses, and a feeling of disorientation slammed into her.

  Her attacker laughed and a gust of hot breath touched her ear. Terror consumed her as she kicked and clawed. But the more she struggled, the more breaths she took, and her sense of disorientation grew even stronger. As her vision faded, she saw the blond man turn the corner and walk toward her, a sinister look on his face.

  NINA CAME TO WITH A pounding headache, a sour taste in her mouth, and a sickening feeling in her gut.

  The last thing she remembered was hanging out in the bar with her friends. What happened? Where was she? How long had she been out?

  Darkness surrounded her, and when she tried to sit up, she thumped her head against a low ceiling. She yelped, which was when she realized that her mouth was taped over and her hands and feet were bound. Then she remembered Ivan’s henchman. The back of the club. That noxious smell.

  Shit. Not good. Definitely not good. Panic ripped through her with such a vengeance that for a moment she thought she might retch, which would really suck, considering the tape over her mouth. Struggling to remain calm, she drew a deep breath through her nose and let it out slowly, repeating the process again and again until she no longer felt like she might throw up or pass out. With it too dark to see, she focused on her other senses to soak up her surroundings.

  Muffled voices. Classic rock music. The rhythmic drone of road noise. The air was hot and stuffy, with a hint of new car smell, and even though the floor had a thin layer of carpet, it felt as hard as a rock. Put it all together, and she reached the conclusion that she’d been stuffed inside a trunk.

  Thankfully, her hands were bound in front of her body, so she picked at the tape with her fingernails until she was able to pull it off. She considered screaming, but who knew if anyone would even hear her? Or worse, the people who’d kidnapped her might hear and put more tape over her mouth. For now, she’d stay quiet as she tested the binding around her wrists. It felt like the same kind of tape that had been over her mouth, and she gnawed at it with her teeth until she got a piece of it loose. Hopes rising, she kept at it until her hands were free, and then she unwound the tape from around her ankles.

  Free of the restraints, she fumbled around what she assumed was the rear wall of the trunk in search of the emergency release. At last, she found a small cord and tugged. The trunk popped open a crack and the smell of fresh air nearly brought tears to her eyes. She peered outside at the scenery zipping by at a high rate of speed. It was an industrial area, one she didn’t recognize. The buildings appeared old and a little run-down, and even though it was night, light shone through a few of the windows.

  The car rolled to a stop, and seconds later, Nina heard the blare of a train whistle. Turning her head toward the sound, she saw what appeared to be a freight train rumbling down the tracks. From what she could tell, there were fifteen or twenty cars, which meant they wouldn’t be stuck at the crossing for long.

  For all she knew, this was her only chance to escape. After toeing off her heels, she shoved the trunk open wider and tumbled out. Pain ripped through her knees when she hit the asphalt, but she ignored it as she shot to her feet and bolted down the street. She’d run about a hundred yards when somebody shouted, and she glanced over her shoulder to see the car doors open and two men in suits charging after her.

  Shit. Lungs burning, arms pumping, she tore off between two buildings, frantically searching for somewhere—anywhere—to hide. There weren’t any bushes, or storage sheds, or anything like that, and the entrances to the businesses were locked. In the back of one building was a large, dimly lit parking lot, which was empty except for four dump trucks parked in a row. She tried the door of the first one—locked, damn it!—and bit back a scream when she stepped on something sharp. Desperate and bleeding, she tried the second vehicle and nearly wept with relief when the door opened.

  She slipped inside the cab and locked the door behind her. Searching for keys, she checked the glove box and sun visor, and cursed under her breath when she didn’t find any. However, she found a screwdriver under the seat, and she grabbed it in case she needed a weapon. Too scared to breathe, she listened for any sounds to indicate where the men were lurking.

  Seconds later, she heard footsteps and the sound of male voices, and her heart nearly seized in her chest. She dove to the floorboards and curled up in a ball, using the grungy floor mat to cover as much of her body as humanly possible.

  “Where the hell did she go?” one of the guys called out to the other.

  “Hell if I know. Check the trucks.”

  The door handle jiggled, and Nina’s adrenaline spiked so high her entire body trembled.

  “Fucker’s locked.”

  “So is this one.” A few seconds passed. “This one too. Come on, the bitch couldn’t have gone far.”

  Nina remained huddled on the floor, not moving, heart pounding, for what seemed like forever, too frightened to do anything until she was certain her kidnappers were long gone. At last, she crawled up and peeked out the window at the dark parking lot, searching for signs of movement. No signs of the men, and relief went through her like a shot of strong whiskey, loosening the knots of tension that had tightened all of her muscles.

  Suddenly exhausted, she sagged against the seat, trying to figure out what to do next. She had no identification, no phone, no shoes, and no means of transportation. There was an emergency twenty dollar bill tucked inside her bra, but that wasn’t going to do her much good in the middle of an industrial park with nobody around. And now that the excitement was over, her feet were killing her. In the almost nonexistent light of the cab, she tenderly probed her bare feet, wincing in pain each time she found a piece of glass and pulled it out of her skin.

  Then there was the fact she had no idea whether the men who’d kidnapped her were still around. For all she knew, they were lurking in the shadows of the parking lot, just waiting for her to come out of hiding. The possibility had her slumping in the seat.

  Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away. She hated feeling helpless. Hated being scared. And most of all, she hated feeling like prey. It filled her with the urge to flee, but she knew that would probably be a stupid move.

  Her thoughts drifted to Austin. He’d know what to do. Knowing him, he would have gone all Rambo on those guys. But then again, he was a lot bigger and stronger than she was, and she needed to take that into consideration.

  With that thought in mind, Nina
curled up on the floor and pulled the mat back over her body. She stayed in hiding for another hour or so, until she was absolutely certain that it was safe to leave. Then she climbed down from the cab, wincing at the pain in her feet and the cramps in her muscles from being curled up in the truck for so long.

  Even though lights shined inside the building, she hadn’t seen any signs to indicate anyone was there. Just to be sure, she knocked on the door, but as expected, nobody answered.

  She blew out a heavy sigh. Still carrying the screwdriver, she walked to the main road, trying to decide which way to go.

  Chapter Six

  NINA WASN’T SURE HOW far she’d walked, only that her feet were killing her. She’d made a point to stay away from the road, hiding in the bushes each time she spotted headlights approaching. At one point, it rained, drenching her to the skin and ensuring that yes, beyond a shadow of a doubt, this was one of the worst nights of her life.

  In the distance, she spotted the glow of a neon light, and when she got close enough to determine that it was a convenience store sign, she nearly wept with relief.

  From the outside, the place appeared a little run-down, with metal bars over the windows, a pay phone at the curb, and two gas pumps out front. Trash littered the lot, most likely because no one had bothered to empty the overflowing trash can by the entrance. An old Pontiac Firebird was parked by the ice machine, and considering it was the only car in the lot, she assumed it belonged to whoever was working the overnight shift.

  Reaching into her bra, she retrieved her emergency twenty and went inside.

  The young guy working behind the counter looked like he’d had a bad day and didn’t want to be there. His head was shaved but he had a long, scraggly beard, and he wore saggy jeans and a white T-shirt with the Confederate flag on the front. He gave her a long, appraising look, pausing at her chest, and apparently found her lacking because his gaze went back to his phone.

  Okay, she knew she looked like crap, but that was downright rude. Teeth gritted, she limped to the counter. “Excuse me. Can I get some change for the pay phone outside?” She’d briefly considered just dialing 911, but her family had a way with law enforcement, and she wasn’t sure how far their influence extended.

  The clerk glanced up from his phone long enough to shoot her a tired look. “We don’t make change unless you buy something.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Biting back what she really wanted to say, she stalked to the coolers and grabbed a bottle of water. For good measure—and because she probably had dragon breath—she grabbed a pack of gum and slapped them on the counter.

  The clerk rang up both items. “That’ll be two eighty-eight.”

  She handed him the twenty. “I need two dollars in quarters for the phone.”

  Yeah, she probably wouldn’t need that many quarters, but she’d rather have too much change than go through another round of bullshit with Mr. Congeniality. Money in hand, she went outside to the pay phone and dialed one of the few numbers she knew from memory.

  AUSTIN WOKE UP FROM a dreamless sleep to the sound of his phone ringing.

  Groggy and annoyed, he rolled over to check the time. Quarter to one. Who the hell was calling this late?

  Groping for the phone in the darkness, he picked it up on the third ring and pressed the icon to accept the call.

  “This better not be a drunk dial,” he grumbled as he ran a hand through his hair.

  “I’m sorry, but I lost my phone and the only numbers I know by heart are yours, Larissa’s, and the Thai restaurant by my place.” Nina was rambling and she sounded genuinely distressed—something he’d never heard from her before—and that caught his undivided attention.

  Yawning, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and squinted when he switched on the light that was on the nightstand. “What’s going on?”

  There was a long pause, as though she were gathering her thoughts. “I was downtown with my friends. A couple of guys grabbed me... I woke up in the trunk, but I managed to get away. Can you come pick me up? Please?”

  It was the “please” part that shredded his heart, with its note of desperation that kicked all of his protective instincts into overdrive. He tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder and reached for a pair of pants. “Where are you?”

  She rattled off an address, which he plugged into his GPS. The location was along a stretch of open road, about halfway to Port Canaveral. “Please hurry. I don’t know if they’re still around looking for me.”

  “It’s going to take me about thirty minutes to get there. Is there a public place nearby? You’ll be safer if you’re not alone.”

  “The only thing around is a convenience store, and the clerk there isn’t very friendly.”

  “Make nice until I get there, and don’t go outside.” He pulled the phone away from his ear long enough to drag a shirt over his head. As he shoved his feet into a pair of athletic shoes, he said, “I’m serious, Nina. Promise you’ll stay in that store until you see my truck pull into the lot.”

  Nina blew out an audible breath. The next time she spoke, she sounded uncharacteristically strained, and it made the alarm bells going off inside his head even louder. “Okay. Fine. Please hurry.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be there before you know it.” After snatching his keys from the hook on the wall, he rushed out the door. He only hoped he wouldn’t be too late.

  IN THE LAST THIRTY minutes, Nina had consumed a bag of Doritos, a can of Mountain Dew, and a hot dog that tasted as if it had been under the heat lamp for at least a month and a half.

  For what had to be the hundredth time, she glanced up at the wall clock behind the register. Austin should be there any minute now. The knowledge didn’t make her feel any better, though, especially with the clerk staring at her as though she were some kind of circus freak. Not that she honestly blamed him. With her ruined dress, jacked-up hair and makeup, bare feet, and skinned knee, she looked like a reject from a bad horror movie.

  Outside, a pair of headlights cut into the darkness, and Nina’s hopes rose. She didn’t think she’d ever been happier at the prospect of seeing Austin Flint. But as the lights got closer, she realized they didn’t belong to a pickup, and when the white sedan pulled into the lot, her stomach dropped down to her feet.

  Holy shit, it was the men who’d kidnapped her. The driver got out and went to the gas pump, while the passenger started toward the store. Partway across the lot, his gaze met hers through the glass door, and his jaw nearly hit the pavement.

  Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Driven by fear, she spun on her heel and ran for the back of the store. The clerk shouted something, but she completely ignored him as she pushed open the door by the beer coolers and barreled into the stockroom.

  She stopped for a moment and scanned the area. The room wasn’t very big, with boxes of merchandise stacked on rows of metal shelves. There was a room to the left that looked like an office, while the door beside it was marked with a unisex bathroom sign.

  To the right was a door with a sign that warned the alarm would sound if the door was opened. There weren’t many places to hide outside, so she shoved the exit door open and then darted to the bathroom and locked the door behind her. If she was lucky, they’d assume she’d gone outside and search for her there.

  With the lights off inside the bathroom, she couldn’t see a damn thing, which was good because she didn’t even want to know why the floor was sticky. She pressed her ear to the door, straining to listen for signs of the men, but she couldn’t hear much over the blare of the exit alarm.

  After a minute or two, the alarm went silent, and once her ears stopped ringing, she heard the sound of muffled voices. The doorknob jiggled, as if being tested from the outside. A raspy male voice cursed, followed by a much more vigorous attempt to open the door and a kick that shook the frame.

  Nina’s heart leaped in her throat. She may be trapped and she may be outnumbered, but she sure as hell wasn’t about to go back in that trunk wit
hout a fight. Scared yet determined, she flipped on the light and frantically searched for something to use as a weapon. There wasn’t much to choose from, so she grabbed the aerosol can of air freshener and aimed it at the door. It wouldn’t kill anyone, but perhaps she could spray them in the eyes and blind them long enough for her to escape.

  The next kicked splintered the frame. Pulse racing, Nina backed up against the sink and waited for the kick that would force the door open. But instead, there were more footsteps outside, followed by a grunt and what sounded a lot like a scuffle.

  A gunshot pierced the air.

  And then silence.

  After what seemed like forever, the footsteps got closer. Closer. The doorknob jiggled again, and Nina’s heart thudded so loudly it could probably be heard outside the bathroom.

  “Nina, it’s Austin. Let me in.”

  Oh, thank God. Relief went through her so hard and fast that her knees almost gave out from under her.

  She yanked the door open and there was Austin, looking dark, dangerous, and downright pissed off in brown cargo pants and a forest-green T-shirt that hugged his pecs and biceps. There was a big, black gun in his shoulder holster and a canister of what looked like pepper spray attached to his belt. His short black hair was messy, and there was a bruise on his cheek that might have happened when he tangled with the two men in suits who were a rumpled mess on the floor behind him. One of them appeared to be unconscious, while the other’s neck was bent at an angle that indicated it was broken.

  Austin eyed the aerosol spray in her hand. “What were you planning to do, powder fresh them to death?”

  Nina barely fought back the urge to thump him upside the head. “It’s not like I had much to choose from. It was either that or the container of liquid soap.”