Settling into the backseat, I whip out my phone and notice I have a text from my mom. She’s just dying to know what dresses I’ve picked out, and she can’t wait until next week to see me try them on.

Texting her back, I’m vaguely aware of Bart receiving a phone call as we pull out, but honestly, I don’t pay much attention to it. The guys Lucifer assigns to me are always receiving calls and texts when we’re out, and I just assume they’re receiving instructions or someone is checking up on where we are.

After listing all the designers for my mom, I peek my head up and glance out the window. I don’t recognize the area we’re driving through but assume Bart is just taking a short cut.

I spend a few more moments texting back and forth with my mom before saying goodbye to her. Clicking off my phone, I slip it into the pocket of my sweater and lean back against the seat, closing my eyes and starting to doze.

It’s not until we pull up in front of a run-down looking building that I get the hint that something is wrong. Opening my eyes, I peer out the window and wonder why we’re slowing down.

“Bart?” I ask, leaning forward. “Why are we here? I’m done shopping and would like to go home now.”

Bart parks the car and doesn’t say a word. He won’t even meet my eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Hey? Earth to Bart?” I frown in frustration and then my door flies open.

“What the hell?!” I cry out as a hand reaches in and yanks me out by the arm.

I stumble and then I’m thrown down. My knees hit the asphalt hard.

“Careful with the goods, idiot!” A sharp voice calls out.

My knees throbbing with pain, I cry out as someone grabs me by the hair and yanks my head back.

“I was told to rough her up a little,” a deep voice rumbles.

My head is held at an incredibly painful angle and all I can see above me is a darkening sky.

“This her?”

Reaching up, I claw and pull desperately at the hand yanking on my hair.

“Yes,” the first voice confirms. “Let’s get her inside before she starts drawing attention.”

The fingers in my hair loosen and my head falls forward. My scalp is throbbing and stinging with pain. I can’t see shit because my eyes are overflowing with tears.

Sucking in a mouthful of air, I open up my mouth to let out a scream but a hand slaps against my mouth.

My scream is muffled against a sweaty palm.

A beefy arm goes around my middle, trapping my arms, and I’m hauled up. I kick out, connecting with some shins, and whoever is holding me curses in my ear.

“Can I knock her out?”

“No. He needs her awake to interrogate her. We don’t have much time.”

I twist and I kick as I’m dragged backward. I don’t know where they’re taking me but I know I don’t want to go. My phone is still in my pocket. If I can get free for just a minute, I can call Lucifer for help.

“If you don’t fucking stop I’m going to break your legs,” the deep voice warns.

Fuck him if he thinks he can scare me into obeying. I kick back even harder wishing I could reach his nuts.

“Need some help?” the first voice chuckles.

“Yes,” the man holding me huffs.

I watch as the first man comes into view. I don’t know who he is but the sight of him chills my blood. He’s Asian, Japanese perhaps.

With a feral grin he reaches for me and I don’t know why I notice it but part of the little finger on his right hand looks like it was cut off.

Grabbing my legs and lifting them up, his grin only grows wider as I continue to twist and fight, screaming at him against the hand covering my mouth.

“She’s a feisty little one, isn’t she?”

The guy behind me only grunts.

Eyes meeting my eyes, I know he’s purposely trying to freak me out when he says, “We’re going to have a lot of fun when the interrogation is done.”

Despite my struggles, the two holding me manage to carry me into a building and then down a flight of rickety stairs without dropping me to the ground.

I’m dumped into a chair and held down while I’m secured to it with a long length of rope. The sweaty palm pulls away only to be replaced by a gag made out of dusty cloth.

Drained after all of my struggles, I push and wiggle against the rope but it holds.

The two men who carried me step away and a new, older, elderly Asian man steps forward. He says something in Japanese I don’t understand.

“Fuck, you didn’t say anything about her being pregnant,” the man who carried my legs says accusingly to someone behind me.

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