I Hid a Mob Boss in the Stacks, So He Claimed My Nights novel · Chapter 18 of 24

Chapter 18: Bratenahl

Zofia's POV

The staff lot was dark again, because the lamp over the dumpster had never been fixed.

I had come out at ten with the book cart to push it to the back door, and I heard the whistle before I saw him.

"Miss Dobrzyn," the driver said.

I swung the cart at his knees.

It tipped, and the returns went across the asphalt in a long slide, and a second man I had not heard took my arms from behind.

I screamed, and nobody came, because the branch was empty and the nearest house was a block away.

A hand closed over my mouth.

It smelled of cigarettes and aftershave, and I bit it, and the man swore and did not let go.

Then the Lincoln was at the curb with its door open.

The ride was long.

They took my phone, and they did not tie my hands.

I sat between the two men in the back seat with my glasses crooked and counted turns in my head.

East on Lake Shore, a long curve, the smell of water.

The house stood in Bratenahl behind a wall, a pale stone place with lit windows.

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