Seven Days to Forever by Ingrid Weaver Read Free Book Online

joke, and the wad of bills next to her nose had to be from a board game with very, very realistic props….
    Game? Joke? Those looters who had broken into her apartment had been dead serious. As was the blood on their faces and the vicious way Flynn had fought them.
    The looters? Had they been after this money? How had they known she had it, when she hadn’t known she had it? And why had Flynn grabbed this pack…unless he, too, had known what it contained?
    Something clicked in her brain. This is what he’d been after all along. He was no electrician. He’d lied. He’d used that story to get into her apartment.
    And she’d believed every word. She’d looked at that charming smile and those oh-so-sweet dimples and she’d been so sure she’d had his number, but she hadn’t, had she? She’d thought she’d learned her lesson about believing handsome men, but she’d been played for a fool. Again.
    Dammit, she should have followed her instincts and slammed that door while she’d had the chance.
    What was she mixed up in?
    The elevator bypassed the ground floor. It didn’t stop until it reached the first level of the basement parking garage.
    Where was Flynn taking her?
    And why in God’s name was she letting him?
    He shifted his grip, sliding her down the front of his body until she was standing on her feet. The instant the doors opened, he fastened one arm around her waist, drew her against his side and started forward.
    Abbie didn’t wait for answers to any of her questions. She didn’t pause for regrets or self-recriminations. She reached for the screwdriver on Flynn’s tool belt, yanked it out of its slot and drove it as hard as she could into Flynn’s arm.
    He muttered a sharp oath and loosened his grip for a vital second.
    Abbie dropped the screwdriver, twisted out of his grasp and ran.
    “Miss Locke, stop!”
    At the shout from behind her, Abbie moved faster. She darted toward the nearest row of cars, the sound of her footsteps echoing through the cavernous garage. Her parking spot was on the next level down. Should she try to make it to her car, or head for the exit ramp? She glanced over her shoulder.
    Flynn was following her. He was pressing his hand against his forearm, and she could see blood on his fingers. Her stomach churned. How badly had she hurt him?
    “Abigail!”
    She veered to the right, choosing to try to reach the exit instead of her car. The sooner she got outside where she could get help, the better her chances of escaping this…this…whatever she was mixed up in.
    “Block the exits,” he said. “She’s heading for the ramp.”
    His voice was low and hard. Who was he talking to? Was he crazy? She looped the strap of her purse around her neck and broke into a sprint, her arms pumping as she gulped in air. Her foot hit a patch of oil as she followed the ramp around a pillar. She slid sideways and crashed into the wall.
    “Abigail, please stop!” he called. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
    We? We? She slapped her hands against the cement wall and pushed off. She didn’t see the van that was coming down the ramp until it was directly in front of her.
    Tires screeched as the vehicle skidded to a halt. A trim blond woman in a yellow cardigan set stared through the windshield at her, then opened the driver’s door and hopped out. “Are you all right?” she asked. “I didn’t hit you, did I?”
    Abbie heard footsteps pound up the ramp behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Flynn was steadily closing the distance between them. His jaw was clenched. The sleeve over his forearm glistened dark red. She whipped her gaze back to the woman from the van and made a split-second decision. “Please. You’ve got to help me,” she said, racing around the hood to the passenger door. “That man’s crazy. I need to get out of here and call the police.”
    The woman didn’t hesitate. Abbie had barely pulled the door closed behind her when the woman slid behind the wheel,