Free Stolen from the Hitman: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance by Alexis Abbott, Alex Abbott Page A

my arms. To my shallow elation, I find that my arms are not bound with anything, only my face. So as soon as I manage to regain control of my arms I reach up, fumbling blindly in the dark to find the binding around my head and tear it off. It’s only a piece of ripped fabric knotted at the back of my head. It’s secured too tightly to pull away without severely hurting my face, so I have to figure out how to untie it. My fingers are still clumsy, and it takes me a long time to undo the knot. Finally it comes loose and I throw it aside, opening and closing my jaw to try and work it back into normal condition.
    “Agghhhh,” I groan, my lips struggling to form coherent words. There’s another moan of response from the area to my right, which I can tell now for certain is Maggie.
    I feel around beneath me. I’m lying down on my back, with a hard, freezing cold concrete floor under my spine. I brace my hands on either side of me to push myself up into a sitting position, every nerve in my body protesting the effort. It feels like trying to walk on a leg that’s fallen asleep — everything is tingling with pinpricks of pain, urging me to be still and compliant, not to try and save myself. Every part of my frame longs to just lie back down and wait for whatever grim fate is coming for me. But I can’t give in so easily. I’m an athlete; I’m used to pushing myself through obstacles and disregarding the pain and discomfort warnings my body gives me.
    “M-Maggie?” I manage to croak, my throat still scratchy and my vocal chords weak.
    “Mmm!” she whimpers, and I can hear the rustling sounds of her own body trying desperately to move. She must have been dosed with the same stuff they gave me. I have to figure out how to reach her, reassure her that everything’s okay… even though I don’t know if things are going to be okay. Things definitely don’t seem great right now.
    I grit my teeth as I struggle to scoot closer to her. I can feel that I’m still wearing my white dress, same as before. So at least I know they didn’t undress me or anything. I shudder at the thought. Some timid voice in the back of my head suggests that maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe it’s just a really, really bad hangover. I’ve never had one before — maybe it’s always like this. Maybe you always feel this scared and lost.
    But I know that’s not the case. As much as I want to believe that any second now the lights will flick on and we’ll find out that we were panicking for no reason… it’s not going to happen. This is a grave situation. And Will and his friends put us here. I kick myself for ever trusting him in the first place. I should have known from the very second he offered me a drink of his champagne on the flight here that he was bad news. Cute boys like that don’t talk to me just because they like me. Of course he saw me as easy prey — small town girl with no real world experience, no solid footing, desperate for a friendly face. And Maggie was easy, too. All it took was one charming smile and she was hooked. I wanted to cry in frustration at how stupid we were, going to that bar. How could I have been so irresponsible? So trusting?
    Finally I scoot across the floor and feel my knee brush against something vaguely warm and trembling. Maggie yelps and starts wriggling around in fear.
    “Shh, it’s me. It’s Liv,” I mumble, my lips finally remembering how to shape real words.
    “Mm! Mmm!” she whines. I fumble around until I find her hand. I give it a squeeze and feel her instantly relax a little bit while I start untying the fabric strip binding her mouth. Once it’s pulled off, she starts to sniffle and cry.
    “Wh —what happened? Where are we?” she murmurs, her words slightly garbled.
    “I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. I can feel her heaving with quiet sobs as I help her to sit up. She falls into me, shaking and weeping. I let her fold into my arms, her frame crumpling into the