“Got it.”

I heard the slam of the bar door closing as Liam’s accomplice went back in. Strong hands grasped my upper arms, turning me to face him. I stared up into his darkened face with wide eyes, hoping I didn’t look as scared and helpless as I felt. He lifted a hand, sliding his fingers into my hair and tightening them.

Liam’s other hand found my waist, inching up toward my breast. I thought he’d touch me there, but at the last minute he pulled away until only his fingertips grazed me. He traced upward between my breasts, then caught my chin and tilted my face toward him.

“I think you might be even prettier tied up,” he whispered. “Christ, I want to fuck you.”

He lowered his head, running his nose along my cheek, scenting me. I shuddered, and not just from fear. Even now—after it was so clear he’d been lying to me all along, although about what I couldn’t be certain—I wanted him.

Liam made a strangled noise, then pulled back and jerked my upper arm, dragging me around to the open back of the van. He pushed me in, face forward. I fell, bracing myself to hit hard, but at the last second he caught me, lowering me to the floor on my side.

Then he grabbed my feet and pulled them together. His hands lingered on my ankles, then one slid upward along the back of my thigh. He found the curve of my ass, tracing the line where it met my upper thigh until his fingers cradled my butt cheek. His thumb dipped down between my legs ever so slightly … Then he squeezed my flesh hard, almost spasmodically, and I squeaked in surprised pain.

“Sorry,” he murmured, rubbing the hurt before returning to business.

I felt rope wrapping tight around my ankles, then Liam leaned forward over me. I glared at him, putting everything I had into sending him the message that I’d be killing him just as soon as I got the chance.

His face was serious and strangely blank, but he reached out and tugged my hair out of my face.

“Fuckin’ shame,” he said, his voice almost thoughtful. “I doubt you’ll believe me, but I’m really sorry about this.”

I raised my eyebrows, making it clear he was right—I didn’t believe a word he said. Liam sighed, then closed the van doors.

Huh. Shitty, shitty first date.

I lay in the dark for what felt like forever, waiting for something to happen. Ideally, this would include the entire Reapers nation bursting through the van doors, but I was mostly just hoping Sophie and Kimber wouldn’t get dragged into my shit.

A few minutes later I heard a scuffle and then the back opened again. Sophie flew in, hitting the floor. Liam climbed in after her, cuffing her, gagging her, and tying her up just like me. I stared at her terrified face, torn between guilt that I’d gotten her into this and determination to kill Liam myself. Preferably with my bare hands.

After castrating him.

I heard his friend climb into the front and gun the engine.

“Sorry, girls,” Liam said. “Hopefully this won’t get too ugly and you’ll get to go home soon.”

Oh, it would definitely be getting ugly. I promised him that with my eyes.

He ignored me, moving forward to join his friend as the van took off. We didn’t drive far, though. After a few minutes they pulled off the road and came to a stop. Then they stepped out and walked around to the back. Liam’s friend reached in and grabbed Sophie, sitting her up. He dug into her purse, pulling out her phone.

His sleeve rode up as he did it, and my heart stopped.

There was a fucking Devil’s Jacks tattoo on his arm.

Shit. Shit. SHIT.

This was much worse than I ever imagined. I’d spent my whole life hating the Devil’s Jacks. They’d been fighting with the Reapers for twenty years in one way or another. I saw things in a sudden, bright, horribly clear light.

Liam, slowly becoming my friend.

Liam, asking me about my day, talking to me about anything and everything. Liam, always willing to hear me out and encouraging me to share with him.

My good “friend” Liam was a fucking stalker.

A stalker who’d used me to learn about my club, and now he obviously planned to use me against my father. Acid filled my stomach, and for one wretched instant I thought I might vomit and choke myself, because this was the worst thing I could imagine doing.

I’d betrayed my club.

Not knowingly, but that hardly mattered. There would be fresh bodies because of this. Those deaths would be on me and my stupid, impulsive decision to let Liam into my life.

Liam tugged me down and picked me up, carrying me around to the front of the van. He leaned me up against the hood like a spare fence post. I balanced unsteadily, forcing myself to stop glaring at him long enough to look around. We were down by the river, probably near the park somewhere. Above us was one of the high bridges going over the falls, and I realized that if he decided to pitch me over the fence I’d fall a good ten stories before I either smashed on the rocks or drowned.

Would he do it?

Of course he would do it—he was a fucking Devil’s Jack—but only if he was done using me.

Shit.

“Em, look at me,” he said. I glanced at his face to find cold, dead eyes studying me. The eyes of a sociopath.

How could I have been so fucking stupid?

“We’re calling your dad,” he said. “I’ll let you talk to him so you can give him this message. You’ll tell him that you’re with Hunter, the Devil’s Jack he met in Portland. Let him know that we have you and your friend Sophie. Then you’ll tell him that we’ll kill you if he doesn’t do exactly what we say. Got it?”

I nodded. I felt tears start to build in my eyes, but I’d be damned if I’d show him even a hint of weakness. I refused to blink as he pulled out my phone and scrolled through the contacts.

Liam reached up and tugged out my gag, then held the phone to my head. It rang twice.

“Hey, baby, what’s up?” I heard my dad ask.

“Daddy, I’m in some trouble,” I said quietly.

“Talk to me,” he replied, immediately all business.

“I’m here in Spokane with a Devil’s Jack named Hunter,” I said, focusing all my emotions into one horrible, hate-filled glare at Liam. Too bad I didn’t have lasers in my eyes. I was pretty sure I could’ve cut him in half with that look. “He said to tell you that he has me and Sophie. He’s going to kill us if you don’t do what he says. He’s also a giant fucking pussy, and I think when you catch him, you should let me cut out his balls with a dull spoon before shooting him in the head.”

Liam—Hunter? whoever the hell he was—grinned at me, then pulled away the phone as Dad started shouting. He tugged the gag back up and stuffed it into my mouth, then stepped toward the cliff’s edge, talking softly just out of earshot.

I wobbled, wondering if there was any point in trying to hop away.

Not really.

Hunter spoke for a moment longer, then turned off the phone and casually pitched it over the fence and into the falls.

He turned back and gave me an evil smile.

“Your daddy’s pretty fond of you, Em,” he said. “Things are going to work out just fine.”

Not for him, they wouldn’t.

The van drove forever, and I lost all sense of time as we jolted around in the back. Hunter and Skid—apparently that was the other asshole’s name—spoke quietly, making the occasional vague phone call in what had to be some sort of unholy Devil’s Jacks kidnapping code.

I couldn’t communicate with Sophie, but I did everything in my power to send her a message with my eyes. You’re not alone, our men will rescue us. I’m so damned sorry I brought this down on you. Something along those lines.

Not sure it sank in.

She was probably thinking about her little boy, Noah, and wondering if she’d ever see him again.

It was a good question. Wish I knew the answer.

The van finally stopped and they dragged us out. We were in front of a house, an older one. Two stories, big porch, and apparently in the middle of nowhere. There were sparse trees off in the distance and gentle hills that kept me from seeing any other houses.