A Different Kind of Animal

Chapter Sixteen

That earned her a sharp jab in the back from the rifle, and Big Ben snapped, “I told you not to speak!”

She bit back the word sorry, feeling the blindfold dampen with her tears. With Leo locked away from her, all her fears suddenly swarmed up to suffocate her, and she couldn’t stop thinking I’m about to die. When Big Ben told Leo that she was just going for a chat, that was likely synonymous to saying that she was going to be disposed of.

As he pushed her along, occasionally guiding her in the right direction with a rough hand, she heard herself start to hiccup with sobs, unable to reign in her terror.

I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die.

Arabelle hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to her mother, who was already suffering so much from her husband’s death. Her mom was probably so worried about her, not knowing where she’d disappeared to. Not being a person to wait anything out, her mom had most definitely called the cops by now.

That thought did little by way of bringing Arabelle hope. Cops would never think to check for a kidnapper at the glorified pharmaceutical company that had benefited Preston County so much.

Big Ben abruptly stopped her progress, gripping her shoulder tightly as if she’d make a break for it. Maybe she should. And risk getting shot? her brain protested, but she figured that it was probably better than whatever they had planned for her in here.

Right as she tensed her body, ready to sprint, her blindfold was ripped away, and she had to blink against the sudden brightness. When she could focus, she found herself in a sterile-looking room with up-to-date computers against the far left wall and two gleaming metal tables in the middle of the room. Besides a couple lounge chairs and a small desk with a lamp against the back wall, there was nothing else to look at.

Running away would have been futile. The door to the room had already been silently closed behind her. To her right, Big Ben stood erect and quiet, his normally sarcastic face set in rigid, no-nonsense lines. In front of her, the man whom Leo called Sir stood, his face contorted in what she thought might be a smile. It looked like smiling was almost painful for him. Maybe he wasn’t used to it.

Looking around again, she noted that this didn’t seem like the type of room anyone would ever die in. She was probably going to be the exception. The floors were glaring white tiles—easy enough to mop up blood.

No, don’t think about it! one part of her mind screamed, while another part of her panicked and thought again, I’m going to die!

Before she could think about what she was doing, she was pushing back against Ben, trying to get past him to the door. She started pleading pathetically, tears streaming down her face. “Please don’t kill me. Please don’t. Please, please.” She sniffed, her nose running, and her breath caught on a sob. She was starting to hyperventilate as Ben firmly held her in place.

“Now, now, there’s no need for that,” the older man said, trying halfheartedly to soothe her.

She didn’t trust this man at all, and she didn’t like the way that his dull brown eyes never warmed with his words or the fake smile plastered on his lips. She could see him watching her, calculating, deciding her fate. He was a man who could kill.

She hiccupped, sobbing louder.

“Have a seat, girl,” he said pleasantly, ignoring her cries completely, as if they were about to sit down to a nice cup of tea.

She couldn’t bring herself to move. Her legs felt wooden, rooted to the floor. Big Ben helped her out by pushing her none-too-gently towards one of the lounge chairs.