He kept his eyes closed, aware his hands were tied excruciatingly tight behind his back. His shoulder muscles felt the strain, as did his legs. The bastard had him hog-tied, making it impossible to work it loose. The driver was hell-bent on his destination. Brett had no doubt his life depended on escaping. Willow! The thought froze in his brain. Damn, he could only imagine what Wyatt had in mind. Anger and sinking anguish assailed him. The metal truck bed offered no protection against the jolting ride. He couldn't help wondering if Mike Ferrell drove the vehicle. Brett hated thinking Mike could be capable of anything this unlawful. They were life-long friends. But, who else could be working with Wyatt? The truck suddenly stopped. A chilling black silence surrounded Brett. The driver opened and slammed his door shut. Brett held his breath, struggling to ease his racing heart. "You awake, stud?" a deep voice asked. Brett immediately knew the man couldn't be Mike. In spite of the situation, Brett felt a certain gratification in the knowledge.
