Last Strike Read Online Free

the driver’s seat. The metal cuff and the duct tape made it impossible for her to tug her wrist free. There was little victory in knowing she wasn’t paranoid about being followed. She twisted her mouth side to side, praying for a lucky break. If her captor had been honest and they were at her house, screaming for help was her only hope. She didn’t want to die, not yet, not before she got the worst of the secrets out of the lab.
    Her stomach rolled and she went still long enough to stem the urge to vomit. When she saw Dr. Gerardi again, she’d slap him, or worse, for subjecting her to that noxious gas. Her head ached and her vision was blurry. Thankfully, the air filling her lungs was clean. She didn’t know Gerardi’s intention, but she wasn’t going to make it easy on him. She was alive and she intended to stay that way.
    She’d managed to loosen one corner of the tape at her mouth when the door opened and a massive man in dark clothing filled the space. Where was Dr. Gerardi? Blinking, she struggled to make out distinct features with no success. The tape muffled her plea for help, for mercy.
    “I’m taking you into the house. You fight me, I’ll fight back.” That low voice resembled gravel crushed under heavy boots. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed hard enough to bring tears to her eyes as he pressed on a nerve deep inside the joint. “Do you understand?”
    She nodded, sucking in a breath through her nose when the pressure eased.
    That massive hand slid the length of her arm and covered both her wrists, gripping firmly as he released the handcuffs.
    She jerked against his hold the moment the lock clicked open. He tugged her hands up and back, causing another slight pain. Captor one, Daria zero.
    “Behave.”
    She nodded. Better to play along and hope for another opening. She was no match for him physically. Her only hope was to outwit him and that meant cooperating in the short term.
    He eased her out of the car. Instead of freeing her feet so she could walk, he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her into the house.
    She felt the powerful muscles of his shoulder, arm, and torso, noticing too quickly her weight gave him no challenge. As he carried her along, she could make out enough cues even without her glasses to see he had indeed brought her home. What the hell did any of this mean?
    All the curtains were drawn and the house was clothed in shadows. A chill skated down her spine, raising goose bumps from her scalp to her toes as he sat her on a chair in the middle of her kitchen. She heard the rustle of plastic under her footsteps and knew her time was limited.
    Either Gerardi had sold her to a serial killer - an absurd conclusion - or he was taking extreme measures to steal her latest breakthrough. A logical theory. She thought about her research and her long-term battle over the ethics. The tremendous advances she’d made were being applied in frightening ways. Her latest would be no different unless she followed through with the dramatic action she’d begun and lifted the veil to expose the UI research to the public.
    Another chilling thought flew through her head. What if Gerardi had figured out she planned to escape the UI program?
    With a cold, brutal efficiency, her captor sliced through the tape binding her wrists and ankles, only to apply more tape as he secured her to the chair. He leaned back against the counter and she felt like a dread bacteria under a microscope as he watched her. She wished for the tape on her mouth to be gone so she could start asking questions, making deals. She wished for her glasses so she could see him properly.
    Then he knelt down in front of her, his face only a hand-span from hers. Terror clamped hard on her heart. She closed her eyes against that face, against the rush of unexpected tears at seeing this man again. If anyone in the world had good reason to kill her, he did.
    “Look at me.”
    She shook her head. If he was here, she could count