The miles carried on forever. She had to go to the bathroom and soon was going to pee in the damn car. What the hell did they expect? She’d been trussed up like a turkey for hours. She’d done her part and had kept quiet the whole time. Well, it was time for that to change. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she called out. 

There was a spat of guttural mutterings then the vehicle slowed. She watched as shiny lights kicked in overhead showing a gas station. She was happy with that. Anything to relieve her bladder. They pulled around to the back. One of the men got out and disappeared. Nam-joon crawled to the back of the vehicle. “If you do anything stupid, call or try to make a run for it…” he threatened. 

“I know. You’ll make me pay,” she said wearily. “Yes, you’ve told me several times already.” 

He just glared at her. The back door of the SUV suddenly popped open and the second man stood grinning down at her, and she realized he was planning on coming into the bathroom with her. Oh . 

“Just so you know that if you hurt me, I won’t be worth as much,” she said, hoping to convince them to leave her alone. 

“Ha. As long as you’re alive, you’re worth a lot.” Nam-joon smirked. 

“But if I’m not capable of working then the buyer won’t be happy,” she snapped. “And I’ll be happy to tell him why I’m hurt.” 

The two men exchanged glances, but the hands that reached for her were gentler than any she’d felt from them up until now. In other words, they were scared of their boss. Good thing. And she was pretty sure Nam-joon was an old friend of Suho’s. Or maybe friend wasn’t quite the word. But she could identify him and if he cared about that, he wasn’t showing it. The other guy she tried to get a decent description of, but what the hell. How was Suho going to find a medium height, medium build, medium brown hair like this one? Of course the huge hooked nose and gut helped make him unique. The busted teeth might help as well. She didn’t want anything to do with that. 

Nam-joon might be a mercenary, but she didn’t get the idea he got off on hurting women. His partner, now that was a different story. 

He hated women. Too many women probably turned him down on dates while he was growing up. They probably knew then he was trouble. 

The scary held her arm in a death grip as she walked to the small bathroom around the side of the large building. She’d love to run screaming inside, but she had no idea what they’d do. 

“See that pregnant woman walking around the vehicle waiting for her husband to fill up the car?” 

She nodded, her stomach sinking. 

“Any funny stuff from you and she gets the first bullet. Right in the belly.” 

Yeah, he got off on hurting women. 

“Understand?” 

She nodded. “Yes.” 

“Good.” He unlocked the bathroom, stuck his head inside, nodded then shoved her in. “Hurry up.” 

And he locked the door behind her. 

. He’d left her hands tied up. Crap. She sat down on the floor and ran her arms and the rope under her bum so she could slip her legs through and stand up with her hands now in front of her. Much better. She dropped her pants and relieved herself while her mind raced in a million directions looking for answers. She had to leave a message. Something of some kind. But if they came in and saw it then the poor woman outside was going to die. 

So what options did she have? 

Not to mention she had no pen or pencil and no way to write a message that would be hidden from someone using the bathroom and not the scary dude. 

Then she got it. Her wrists were raw already so she used her teeth to make one bleed a little more freely, then sitting on the toilet she wrote the message at her feet. Only to be seen by someone sitting down and likely not noticed from the door as the linoleum floor was a mottle brown. 

After she finished, she flushed the toilet and ran to the sink. She quickly washed her hands and grabbed and extra bit of paper towel to staunch the bleeding, but it was already slowing so all was good. 

The door opened suddenly and it was the scary dude looking at her. 

She mustered a smile. “Good timing, I’m done.” 

His face fell as if he’d hoped to catch her sitting on the toilet. Sick bastard. 

Without saying a word he led her back to the vehicle. Once