Page 32 of Stolen By the Billionaire
None of the targets appeared to have seen him. They were all looking at the crows circling the corn after the disruption of the SUVs pulling up.
With his thumb, he clicked the safety off his gun.
Sarah was doubtlessly screaming to them about him, the maniac who’d taken her captive, but they hadn’t seen him.
They probably wouldn’t listen to her. Mob murderers didn’t listen to their intended victims because they might start seeing them as human, and that took the fun out of the kill.
Frost touched the back of his neck, and he rolled his shoulders to dispel everything except focus.
Blaze jogged through the house and emerged out the front door on the other side, silently pressing it closed behind him.
He had to get Sarah out of the car before they left, assuming they didn’t shoot her in her own cornfield within the next few minutes.
12
Shoot the Horse
Sarah
Sarah struggled to sit up in the back of the SUV because her stupid hands were still tied behind her stupid back. Inside the car, the air was heating from the afternoon sun soaking into the black paint, and the leather was hot against her arms and jeans.
“Is he out there?” she yelled at the guys in the dark suits and opaque sunglasses gazing at the land and sky and obviously not listening to her. “Be careful! That guy said he was an ex-Navy SEAL. He’s dangerous!”
“I don’t see nobody,” one man said, his city-pale skin already glistening with sweat in the morning heat because he was wearing a suit with a jacket on a farm in June.
That guy was so not-country.
She yelled, “Hey, can you guys untie my hands? My shoulders are getting sore.”
The man standing right outside the car window twitched as he buttoned his coat. He leaned down and talked through the open door to her. “Just settle down in there. We’ll take care of you in a minute.”
He left the door wide open as he stood up and looked around her farm.
She scooted over and peered out of the open door at the men. “What you mean, you’re going to ‘take care’ of me?”
The guy turned back, and his eyebrows lowered above his sunglasses. “I mean, we’re gonna take care of youse. Now, just shut up in there.”
That didn’t sound like the way the police were supposed to talk.
Sarah scooted away from him toward the middle of the back seat. “Who are you guys?”
The guy turned away from her, his irritated twitching more pronounced. “It doesn’t matter who we are.”
Uh-oh.
One of the other guys talked to the one outside her open door. “I want to shoot the horse.”
Sarah recoiled. “What the heck! No!”
He must be joking. He must be a horrible person and joking. She couldn’t breathe. Charlie. She yanked her hands in the zip ties and felt the plastic cutting her skin.
Sarah stuck her head out of the car and yelled at the guy, “You better stay away from my horse!”
The guy who’d been talking to Sarah flailed his hands like this stupid thing the guy said had become smoke and was getting in his eyes. “Why would you want to shoot the horse?”
She breathed a little. Very little.
“It’s going to die anyway. It’s probably gonna starve to death without no one to take care of it. It’s better for the horse if I shoot it.”
