Jayne groaned as she regained consciousness. She struggled into a seated position. Searing pain throbbed in her right cheek, and she could only open her left eye. To make matters worse, whatever she’d been drugged with was playing havoc with her ability to think straight. Her brain felt as if someone had stuffed it with cotton wool, and her one good eye wouldn’t focus properly.

She turned her head slowly and looked around. She was being kept in some sort of basement. The walls were damp and covered with green mould, the concrete floor was cold as ice, and a single bulb hung from a loose wire in the centre of the room, throwing off a dim glow.

She’d been restrained once again, her hands secured behind her back with cable ties this time, although fortunately her feet had been left free. She soon discovered that tugging against her restraints made the ties bite even more painfully into her skin and got her no further towards being free.

Jayne struggled to her feet and paced out her prison. It measured about twenty feet by fifteen, give or take. On the ceiling, off-centre, was a trap door with a rusty handle she’d have had no chance of reaching even if her hands weren’t restrained—and no doubt it would be locked from the outside anyway.

Her breathing escalated rapidly, her heart thundering in her chest. Desperate to stop a full-on panic attack, she forced herself to breathe slowly in through her nose and out through her mouth. She had to calm down and think her way out of this situation. She was smart, fit, young… and scared shitless.

A cold sweat broke out on her face, and her stomach contracted hard. She heaved several times, although all that came up was a tiny amount of yellow bile, which she spat onto the floor. Her stomach felt bruised after its failed efforts, and she sank to the ground, her knees tight against her chest, but that position made her shoulders scream with pain, so she stood up again. She was not going to cry. No way was she going to give that bastard the satisfaction.

What if he just left her there to die? No food or water—days and days of suffering before her body finally gave out. She shook her head to dispel such morbid thoughts. Her one good eye was focusing better now that it had adjusted to the dim light. The room was empty except for a bucket in the corner that was clearly Fisher’s idea of a toilet, and a few rusty old nails sticking out of the wall. She walked over to them. Maybe if she twisted her body just right and stood on tiptoes, she’d be able to use one of them to saw through her restraints.

She tried several times but couldn’t get the angle right. On the last attempt, she slipped, and a nail tore into her flesh.

She cried out as a stabbing pain shot through her hand. Warm blood trickled onto the concrete floor. She considered the merits of dying from tetanus instead of thirst and decided both were heinous. She was about to give her escape attempt another try when the trap door rattled and creaked as it was opened.

An aluminium ladder appeared. Fisher climbed down, and Jayne considered trying a Krav Maga kick to his solar plexus, but with her hands tied behind her back, her balance would be off. No, she needed to be smarter than that and think her way through rather than react in a rash manner.

“Awake at last, Jayne.”

“What did you give me?”

Fisher shrugged. He placed a bottle of water and a sandwich on the floor. “Thought you might be hungry.”

A surge of hope raced through her. If he’d brought her food and water, he might take her restraints off. “I am,” she said, deciding to try a different tack. “That’s very kind of you. Can you free my hands so that I can eat?”

Fisher barked out a single laugh. “Now, I know I’m not as smart as you, Miss Super-Lawyer, but I’m not completely stupid.”

“Then how do you expect me to manage?”

“You’ll figure it out.” He began to leave, but then his eyes zoomed in on the blood spots on the floor. He grabbed her arm and turned her around. She winced as he poked at the tear in her flesh. He walked over to the nails and pulled them out one-by-one, slipping them into his pocket. He wagged his finger in front of her face. “Very sloppy of me.”

Fisher began to climb up the ladder, and when he was about halfway, he glanced over his shoulder, a cruel tilt to his lips. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m afraid your boyfriend is expecting my call.”

Jayne’s heart jolted as he disappeared through the hole. The lock mechanism ground back into place.

She slumped to the floor, legs splayed out in front of her, which at least didn’t cause too much pain to her shoulders. No more than a few minutes passed before Fisher returned. Jayne scrambled to her feet as he jumped off the last couple of rungs and came towards her, holding a mobile phone.

“Want to say hello to your boyfriend?” he said, waving the phone in the air, his tone taunting and arrogant.

Jayne lunged, but Fisher stepped away, and she stumbled and fell, scraping the skin off her knees on the concrete floor.

“Take it easy. You have to promise to be good first. Can you be good, Jayne?”

She glanced up at him and nodded, swearing that the first chance she got, she was going to nail this fucker in the balls.

“Good girl. Now stand over here by me. Otherwise, we won’t get a signal.”

She did as he asked. He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, his fingers pinching her hip, and she did her utmost not to cower away from him. He smelt of stale sweat and cigarettes, and as the stench permeated her nostrils, she wanted to heave.

Her heart leapt when she heard Rupe’s muffled voice.

“Rupe,” she yelled, but was cut off when Fisher wrapped an arm around her throat and pressed hard. She began to gag.

“In a minute,” Fisher said to her. “So, Whittingham, have you got my money and transport sorted?”

Jayne strained to hear what Rupe was saying, but Fisher had the phone too close to his ear.

“Good,” Fisher spoke into the phone. “Right, I’m going to let you go, Jayne, but be warned: make a stupid move, and you’ll regret it.”

He dropped his arm from around her neck and moved it to her chest, holding her tightly against him. Revulsion rolled through her as Fisher held the phone up to her ear.

“Rupe,” she managed to choke out.

“I’m here, babe,” he said, his wonderful voice so soft and gentle. She bit back the tears that threatened to fall, knowing that if he heard how frightened she was, it would make things worse for him.

“Are you okay?” he said.

“Yes.”

“We’re going to find you. Trust me.”

“I do.” She bit her lip, as hot tears seared her eyes. “Rupe?”

“Yeah, babe. I’m still here.”

Jayne took a deep breath and snapped her head backward, cracking Fisher hard in the face. He grunted, fell to his knees, and dropped the phone. It skidded across the room. Jayne threw herself after it, crashing painfully to the ground.

“I’m underground,” she shouted into the handset, the words tumbling from her lips. “It’s got a tiny window, but I can’t climb through. It’s cold. There’s a trap door, and he drops a ladder—”

Fisher hauled her to her feet and smashed his fist into her face. She screamed and crumpled to the floor as pain exploded in her head. She vaguely heard Rupe calling her name, but she couldn’t force out any words in response. Her vision flickered, and she tasted the metallic tang of blood in her mouth. The room started spinning. She was going to pass out.

“That was very stupid,” Fisher hissed. He kicked her hard in the abdomen, and she curled into a ball as blackness consumed her.

* * *

Rupe almost slammed his phone into the wall but stopped himself just in time and punched it instead. The skin across his knuckles burst open, and blood seeped between his fingers.

“Open the app,” Mike urged. “We’ve got him.”

Rupe shook his head. “He was using a different phone. He’s not as dumb as we first thought.”

“So what does that mean?” Mike said in an irritated tone.

Rupe sank into a chair and covered his face with his hands. Jayne had been so brave, but her information was virtually useless without a trace. Oh God, what was Fisher doing to her right at that moment?

He stared at the floor. “We have to start over, trace the number, and hope the phone is switched on, but for all we know, he’ll rotate through every phone call. It’s like trying to hit a moving target.”

Mike expelled a curt breath. “So you’re giving up?”

Rupe’s head snapped up, and he glared at Mike. “No, I’m fucking not. Just give me a goddamn minute to get myself together and plan the next move. Do you have any idea how hard that was for me to hear her voice, to sense her fear, and not be able to do a fucking thing to help her?”

Mike’s face softened, and he rested a hand on Rupe’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Silence stretched across the room before Rupe let out a low sigh. He rose from the chair he’d collapsed into and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Mike asked.

“To find Jayne,” Rupe replied.