CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“I am so sorry about this,” Layla said.
She had been apologizing ever since Ashcroft’s men poured through the back door, taking the women in the kitchen by surprise. They had guns. Big, scary looking machine guns, that they held in what looked like military poses. These were professional thugs.
The women had been lined up on their knees with her, guarded by a man with a g*n while the others rearranged the environment to accommodate their plans. By the way the place looked, there wouldn’t be a happy ending.
They had closed drapes, duct-taped the edges and the center then piled furniture in front of the entrances. As for their hostages, they’d taped chairs together in a circle, facing outward, and then taped the women one at a time to the seats. All five of them had th
