Taken - A Gangster Stepbrother Romance Read Free

in the car,” he said, moving away from the door for her.
     
    Emma remained frozen in place.
     
    “Get in ,” the man said again, his voice edged with impatience.
     
    Without another word, Emma turned on her heels and ran. This was exactly how women were kidnapped and then murdered. She had no idea who had sent her that note or who had made that call but either way, she was no fool. This had danger written all over it.
     
    But Emma had only managed to get a few feet before arms thick as tree trunks closed around her middle, trapping her arms against her sides.
     
    Emma kicked and squirmed, landing a good hit against the man’s shin. “Fuck!” she heard him grunt.
     
    Knowing that in her neighborhood, screaming could sometimes invite more trouble than help, Emma took the risk and opened her mouth but before she could even take in a breath, a damp cloth was pressed hard over her mouth and nose.
     
    Emma’s eyes widened in shock as she squirmed and fought the man’s ironclad hold. She wriggled and kicked. And she inhaled.
     
    Losing her breath from struggling so much, she breathed faster, inhaling the fumes of the damp cloth. A thick haze began to quickly creep in upon her. Her limbs felt heavy and awkward. Her muscles felt like they were made of pudding.
     
    As if from a faraway world, she felt the man carry her to the car and push her in. Her eyelids felt like they were made of steel beams. As she slowly let the fog carry her away, she wondered if anyone had seen her, if anyone had witnessed her kidnapping.
     
    And if anyone had seen, she wondered if anyone had cared.
     
    But she knew the answer. With a detached feeling of aching loneliness, Emma let herself drown in the heavy fog of drug-induced sleep.

Chapter Three
                  A soft ringing called out to her, cutting through the darkness and haze.
     
                  Emma moaned a little, still feeling the heaviness of her arms and legs weigh her down. The muffled ringing continued, as if coming from a faraway room.
     
                  She hoped she had woken up early enough to catch the bus for school. Or wait, was it clinic day today? She couldn’t remember. Feeling as though she were lifting an arm made of redwood tree trunks, she reached for her phone to check the time. But as her arm swung up, it brushed against something smooth and silky.
     
                  Emma’s arm froze, midair. With her eyes still closed and her brain still slow, she remembered her bedroom quilt. It was a gray and white checkered cotton quilt that had needed its edges to be resewn more than a handful of times. Her sheets were a matching gray cotton that had been purchased when she had started college. They were nearly threadbare now.
     
                  In short, nothing in her room should feel silky and smooth.
     
                  With aching slowness, Emma squinted open her eyes. Instead of the peeling walls of her studio apartment, she saw a clean white wall with an elegant matching white chair rail trim across the middle.
     
                  This…this wasn’t her room.
     
                  Where was she?
     
                  As she tried to get her vision to focus, Emma thought back to what she remembered last.
     
                  She had gone to clinic. Seen her patients. She had stayed late to finish some extra work. She had gone home. Checked her mail—
     
                  Her mail!
     
                  The package. The phone. The note.
     
                  It all came screaming back to her. Remembering the black sedan and the burly man who had kidnapped her, Emma forced herself to sit up.
     
                  Though her movements were still a little sluggish, she managed to pull herself upright. Sitting up, she looked around her surroundings, convinced she would find herself in the middle of an