Wild by Eve Langlais Page A

her with him. It wasn’t a long span, but unexpected, and tethered to him by an iron grip, it made her landing awkward.
    Forget breaking free and making a run for it. Freaky guy with the teeth was not letting her go, and he’d brought a friend. She noted another guy standing by a pickup truck, the same truck with a thick grille that had rammed them only moments ago.
    â€œYou’re the one who hit us.”
    Dude actually rolled his eyes. “Well, duh. We needed your car to stop. It seemed like the fastest way.”
    â€œWe could have died.”
    â€œYeah, that would have sucked, given my new bonus is contingent on you being alive. Now could you get your ass moving? Places to go. People to see.”
    His buddy by the truck fidgeted. “Damian, would you stop yapping with the broad? We need to hurry and get out of here. We are way too close to his land still.”
    â€œWhat, are you turning into a ’fraidy cat?” her captor mocked as he tossed her into the truck. The bench seat meant she got the middle, squashed between the two arguing men.
    â€œNo, but I’m not stupid, either. Let’s drop her ass off, get the money, and then go on that vacation.”
    â€œOr you could just let me go now, and I contact a few friends and we see what we can do to help you.”
    The one called Damian snorted. “Darling, I’m a hired mercenary. We only work for the mighty dollar. Not plea bargains or tears or big pleading eyes.”
    â€œAnd steak.”
    â€œWe do not work for steak, Bubba. We buy the whole damned cow for the right price. God, I wish I hadn’t promised your mother I’d let you work with me.”
    The surreal arguing had her almost giggling, and not just because of hysteria at her situation. The pair of them were hilarious, especially all their references to bears and wolves and even a tiger.
    â€œYou guys are way too obsessed with the animal kingdom,” she interjected at one point.
    â€œSays the girl associating with tigers.”
    â€œI don’t know what you’re talking about.” Or was Tigers the name of Garoux’s gang? Had she finally stumbled across their identity in the underworld?
    â€œShe’s got his mark,” Bubba remarked, a stubby finger tugging at the collar of her T-shirt.
    She slapped his hand away, but Damian couldn’t be budged when he hooked the neckline to cop a peek.
    â€œDo you mind?” she snapped.
    â€œWho bit you?” he asked.
    â€œNone of your damned business.”
    â€œActually, given you smell like a cat rubbed all over you, I’d say the accountant fellow.”
    Before she could ask him how he knew what Brody smelled like, the truck slowed to a stop. Their destination proved a big shock.
    â€œThis is my building. Does this mean you are letting me go?”
    â€œYou know, I almost wish I could. You’re an interesting chick for a human. But in this business, once you give your word, you kind of have to keep it.”
    An apologetic hit man. Had the whole world gone mad?
    No one stopped them as Damian frog-marched her in. Not a soul was around to hear her scream for help. Both Damian and Bubba proved adept at avoiding her stomping feet. They’d gotten wise to her violent tricks.
    The elevator ride proceeded silently. She eyed the numbers as they lit up, ascending to what: her doom? Dum-dum-dum.
    To her surprise, they skipped past her floor and kept going. When the elevator deposited them on the eleventh floor, she debated yelling for help.
    Middle of the week, in the afternoon? The upper floor with its four penthouse suites catered to the white-collar businessmen. There would be no one home to hear, so she refrained, but she did eye with interest the various doors.
    Which of them would lead to whoever had paid to have her killed?
    As it turned out, none of them. They skipped all the doors and headed to the end of the hall, where an EXIT sign led them out to the stairwell.