Free Grab by Anne Conley Page A

slowly, his eyes never left hers, each rock of the chair, a new, persistent squeal.
    “Comfortable?”
    Was he kidding? She was tied to a bed in some freak’s house. She’d been grabbed from her apartment and brought here, completely against her will, with no hope of escaping.
    Mia sniffed back tears. No matter how hopeless this seemed, she wouldn’t let him see how upset she was.
    “What’s your name?” She wasn’t about to answer his inane question. Maybe some information would help her because she couldn’t think of anything else that would at this point. He had proven he was stronger than she was. Her only recourse at this point was to stay calm and gather intel. Jesus. She sounded like Jordan.
    Jordan. His face the moment he saw her being thrust into the van came back to her, completely unbidden, and hope surfaced. He wouldn’t stop until he found her. She knew it. They hadn’t had sex. They didn’t have a relationship. But they were friends, and Mia had figured out he was fiercely loyal to his friends. That was one of the things she loved about him.
    “Mike,” the man interrupted her thoughts, jarring her back to her new harsh reality.
    “Mike.” She tried his name on her tongue and discovered it tasted foul. “Why am I here, Mike?” she asked tentatively, almost afraid of the answer, while her hands twisted against her restraints. She was just testing them, not trying to get out, yet. But they were tight, each fiber of the rough strands digging into her sensitized flesh.
    “Because I need you, Mia. I’m really hoping you work better than the others did.”
    She swallowed hard past the bile suddenly choking her. Fear tasted bad. “Others?” What did that mean? Panic made adrenalin course through her veins, but she couldn’t do anything but tug on the ropes tied tight around her wrists.
    Mike’s mouth flattened to a thin line that slashed across his face as he rose. “Do you need anything? Are you thirsty? Want some water?” He crossed into another room, where she heard a fridge door open with a sucking sound. When he returned, he held a bottle of water, condensation dripping down the edges.
    Mia realized how parched her throat was, so she nodded, hoping the water wasn’t drugged. If it was, would she even know?
    She suddenly hoped Mike would kill her easily. She didn’t want to hurt. Drugs would be good. Then she could just go to sleep. Ignorance would be bliss.

For some reason, Simon was pissed when he heard the new development in Misty’s case. He slammed his weights down and sat up on the bench, leaving Ryan behind him in spotter position with a ‘what the fuck’ look on his face.
    “Your neighbor? You sure it’s the same guy who took Misty?” Running his hand through his hair, he spun around on the bench and grabbed a towel. “What are the fucking odds?”
    Curiosity piqued, Jordan asked, “What do you mean?” He was running on the treadmill, desperate to straighten out this mess in his head, hoping for divine inspiration with his sweat.
    “The one rule I have is don’t sleep with the clients. Keep your dick in your pants when it comes to women on these cases. So far, three of you have slept with clients, marks, or somebody related to the case. Now a woman you’re involved with is grabbed. That’s what I mean by odds, Jordan.”
    Suddenly pissed, Jordan jumped off the treadmill and nearly ate his shit as he tried to make up for his sudden lack of motion by stalking over to Simon. Oblivious to the daggers his boss was shooting his way, he yelled at him, “What kind of fucking attitude is that? A woman is kidnapped and your first thought is too bad we can’t help her, Jordan’s fucking her!?” Sticking his finger in Simon’s face, he saw the foolishness in the gesture as soon as Simon quirked an eyebrow and pursed his lips, but he couldn’t stop himself. “And we’re not involved! We’re friends, that’s all.” That’s all they’d declared, anyway. That and the