Chapter 195

LUKE SLOWLY ROTATED HIS wrist inside the cuffs.

His arm wasn't broken.

That was good at least.

He didn't expect the good to last.

Nador walked a semi-circle around Luke. His head was still foggy, as though he had cotton wound around his head. Whatever they'd drugged him with was bad stuff.

Morning light sliced through the windows, stabbing Luke in the eyeballs.

How long had he been out?

Where was he?

Were the others okay?

What about Abigail?

"Where's Mason Clark?" Nador drew the ‘s' out a few syllables too long. Luke still couldn't place the man's accent.

"Do I look like a nanny?" Last Luke knew, Mason was home, doing every small gig possible so their director of operations could keep him close at hand. The leash chafed, but that was the price Mason had to pay for the woman of his dreams. It was something Luke was beginning to understand.

Nador pulled his hand back and smacked Luke across the face.

His head whipped around, cracking his neck.

Shit.