Naeva Quinn

When the car finally jerked to a stop, my chest dropped with the sudden silence. The noise from the road died and with it, the biting cold that had followed me all along seemed to disappear. The air here was different. Warm. Like the very walls were breathing heat back at me.

Rough hands gripped me, dragging me from the back seat. My wrists burned against the rope, the knot too tight, unforgiving. I kicked out, my legs thrashing against solid bodies, but it did nothing. My feet ...