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Chapter 36 : Garth

Raven felt her mind swimming back to the surface like a film coming back into focus. It was an effort: she felt so cold and loose and achy, as if she’d just walked a long way in intense heat. That must have been some kind of drug, she guessed. It had knocked her out completely, and it took a long few moments to come back to herself.

The first thing she was aware of was the pressure against her wrists and the awkward angle they were pinioned at behind her. She felt hard plastic edges digging into her skin. Zip ties. She’d been propped upright on a leather bench—a car seat. And she felt the thrum of a motor through the seat, against her back and thighs.

God damn it.

She’d fucked up. Badly.

This wasn’t the hitman—not the one with the double-forehead-hit signature. But she’d allowed herself to be literally cornered. And now she was tied up in a stranger’s car.

Voices swam to her awareness, deep and masculine:

“She’s up.”

“Dose her again?”

“Not yet. Let’s assess.”

Fingers
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