Diasy’s POV
I awake with a start as we lurch to a stop, the vehicle’s engine cutting out seconds later. The door beside the left goon is thrown open, the man shifting his bulky weight from the seat, sliding from the interior, and straightening up before turning back to face me, gun aimed at my chest.
‘Out’ the other man orders, grabbing the blanket from me and tossing it over the back seat, cold air slamming into my exposed skin, making me tremble instantly.
When I don’t move immediately, Cargill’s man shoves the barrel of his own gun into my side painfully, making me yelp in pain and quickly slide away, toward the first man who steps back to allow me to climb out.
As my feet hit the cold concrete, a hand wraps around my wrist, tugging me sharply. I glance back at the menacing man, who
