He Lost Me to His Best Friend novel Chapter 372

Almost instantly, the world went black. Her consciousness completely snapped.

When she finally came to, a splitting headache pounded against her skull. She was slouched in the back of a moving vehicle.

Her heart plummeted into her stomach.

The man sitting next to her was on his phone. "Boss, we got 'em in the van. What's the next move?"

A sickeningly dark, lecherous voice bled through the phone's speaker. "Bring them to the dock warehouse. Tonight, you boys are in for a treat. Have your fun."

A wave of pure terror washed over Scarlett. She forced herself to subtly take stock of her surroundings.

It was a standard commercial van. The only people inside were the two men who had ambushed her. One was behind the wheel, and the other was guarding her.

Perhaps assuming the heavy sedative had done its job, they hadn't bothered to bind her. Her hands and feet were entirely free. However, her limbs felt like they were cast in lead. The drug made every movement agonizingly heavy.

If they didn't find a way out right now, being dragged to that warehouse would be a fate worse than death.

Moving with agonizing slowness, Scarlett shifted her left hand toward her right wrist. She pressed down on a tiny hidden button on her bracelet, holding it for three seconds.

It was a contingency Stellan had given her before he left. A distress beacon that, when activated, immediately pinged her GPS coordinates to his team.

"One, two, three..." she counted silently. The signal fired. A fraction of relief eased her racing heart.

But a second later, the bracelet let out a sharp, piercing *ding*.

The noise echoed like a gunshot in the quiet van. The kidnapper instantly snapped his head toward her, his gaze razor-sharp.

A sickening thud echoed through the van.

Caught entirely off guard, the man saw stars. He instinctively threw his hands over his face, howling in agony.

Running on pure adrenaline, Scarlett shoved the sliding door open, grabbed Talia Gray's limp hand, and used every ounce of her strength to tumble out of the vehicle.

"Help! Kidnappers! Call the police!"

She hit the concrete hard, pinned beneath her unconscious bestie-in-chief. Unable to move, she screamed until her throat felt like sandpaper, raw with sheer panic.

Her frantic cries instantly drew the attention of the gas station attendants and the drivers waiting at the pumps. Heads turned. People started stepping forward.