Minutes into her waking up with her hands and feet bound, tied to a chair, Keira was about to devise a plan to get the information.
Beside her, Nate was still bound – same, only with an added feature around his mouth, muffling his usually eloquent and charming words into a muffle of unintelligent mumble. The gun, held by a burly man belonging to the Plutonium bike gang/ shop, touched his forehead. Reminding him of how fickle his life was in every passing second.
Randy grew impatient, pierced eyebrows narrowed dangerously, telling Keira that she only had seconds to spare if she didn't want Nate to receive another bone-rattling punch to his handsome face.
"The one who told me about the book refuses to share her name," Keira started with this simple sentence. A little bit of lies in its play.
