Instead of a way out, I found Hawaiian-shirt Derrick with his stupid effing ponytail and dementedly handsome, hostile grin. I immediately took a swing at him and clocked him in the throat. He immediately started gagging and gasping. He also immediately got pissed off and moved to hit me back. Ducking it, I kicked him in the balls. He doubled over and I swear he started to cry, but I wasn’t going to stick around to find out. I turned on my heel and ran the opposite direction, forgetting Will’s and Cade’s and my father’s previous instructions to completely incapacitate an attacker. I should have kicked him in the head a few times.

Too late now. I was already running around the corner, turning around weird nonsensically placed walls and stacks of boxes and crates. I was hopelessly lost in this ridiculous, cavernous warehouse. I froze when I saw huge, hairy Hagrid in front of me holding a gun.

I dropped the handcuffs and held my hands out to my sides. He gestured for me to go to him, so I did it. At this point, I was out of options and a little bit out of my mind. I stopped in front of him, and he grabbed my arm and zip tied my hands behind my back.

He pulled me through a narrow pathway forged between stacked-up boxes and crates. Dust kicked up with every step and filled my nostrils, I couldn’t breathe. I gasped as I struggled not to fall. I stumbled once, and he hauled me up painfully by my arm, shaking me forcefully. So much for his earlier concern.

It was getting darker, and the sound of our footfalls stomping and scraping across the dirty floor echoed throughout the warehouse. We reached a door, and he shoved me into a pitch-black room. Careening through the doorway, I tripped on my heels. But instead of hitting the floor, I hit a body.

I assumed it was a man, based on his size and that when I hit the chest area, there were no boobs. I balanced precariously against his chest as he curved his shoulders forward to prevent my fall. He was solid, and he tried to keep his footing as he helped steady me. I managed to lower myself to the floor and sit down, then he sat near me.

As my eyes started to adjust to the dark, I could make out his features a bit. It looked like my wackadoo stalker. If he was tied up too, he couldn’t be the jerk who had been messing with me.

“Are you the one messing with me?” I asked.

He sighed. “Yes.”

“And?” I said, and he sighed again with annoyance. “What the hell is going on?”

“You know Tara?” he asked.

“Trevor’s wife, Tara?”

“Yes. She’s my sister. Did you know about the divorce? Why they were getting it, all of that?” he asked.