Hush Read Online Free PDF Page A

had.
    After a brief pause, all the men started talking atonce, their voices tumbling over one another in an unintelligible babble. The woman stopped that by firing a round into the ceiling. The other half of the ceiling rained down on their heads. Everyone shut up.
    Acadia’s gaze found Zak. He was sprawled facedown on the floor, hands behind his head, a soldier’s booted foot on his bare, straining back.
    â€œLet her—”
    The woman strode across the room to deliver a vicious kick to his ribs. She hefted her gun like a club. “Hombre,” she said, “she’s the least of your problems.”
    Acadia winced as the butt of the woman’s gun connected with Zak’s head with a dull, painful-sounding thump.
    â€œGet them dressed, and in the truck.” She spoke heavily accented English. “¡Apúrate!” She paused, eyes flashing as she surveyed her men. “The next man to touch her dies like Santos, ¿vale?”
    Acadia leaped to grab a T-shirt first, cheeks burning as the men watched her scramble to yank it over her head and over her bare breasts. No one stopped her. She quickly shrugged into a sleeveless vest, schooling herself not to betray how heavy the garment really was. The vest had a million hidden pockets. If Acadia managed nothing else, she’d be taken with her stuff. She wriggled into the matching, multipocketed cargo pants, unable to keep from blushing fiercely as a man whistled mockingly as she yanked them over her bare bottom.
    A guerrilla threw her boots at her. She bit back a cry as a heavy hiking boot ricocheted off her instep.
    â€œBe quick,” snarled the man she’d hit with the same boot earlier. Acadia was gratified to see that his nose appeared to be broken, and that he was already sporting two black eyes. Good , she thought with relish, as she hurriedly finished dressing.
    ACADIA WAS TREMBLING, HER heart pounding so hard she was afraid she’d throw up any second. Sweaty and ice-cold at the same time, she braced her hands beside her hips to counter the motion of the swiftly moving vehicle. The ancient, windowless—some kind of delivery van, she suspected—stank of sweat and cigarettes. The van had no shocks, and each bump and turn made itself felt as they bounced over pockmarked roads at suicidal speeds.
    She and the unconscious Zak had been unceremoniously tossed into the back of the vehicle with another man about fifteen minutes before. The doors had been slammed shut and locked; then they’d taken off with a screech of bald tires as if the hounds of hell were after them. The second guy had a large, painful-looking bump on his temple in almost the same location as Zak’s.
    She studied the men in the dim light, noticing their similar coloring and builds. The second man’s long, dark hair was tangled around his face and shoulders; Zak’s was a bit shorter, brushing his collar. Even unconscious, the two men looked unkempt and vaguely dangerous. Zak’s bad-boy looks had been appealing the night before, but seeing him now, Acadia wondered if she’d lost her mind and all her good sense in taking the guy back to her room. Kidnapping could’ve been the least of her problems.
    She pushed those thoughts out of her head. He hadn’t killed her, or worse. Her aches and pains proved she was alive, and unfortunately, she couldn’t blame him for their kidnapping either. But what if her kidnapping had nothing to do with her lottery winnings? Acadia’s brain went a little manic when she considered the ramifications of her—their—kidnapping.
    The three of them could be held for ransom. She had money in a savings account, which she’d happily hand over in exchange for her freedom and that of the two men.
    Or they could be killed.
    Or they could all three be sold into slavery. Not as far-fetched as she’d like to think—it was a very real possibility. She’d read all about the sex