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Christine stepped on the gas pedal and we hurled backwards until we crashed into the blue Toyota. We were thrown violently forward. Fear as thick as fog hung in the air.
“Are you guys all right?” I asked.
“What is going on? “Who are these men?” Mandy cried.
Two more men jumped out of the blue Toyota, their faces covered with masks.
“Sienna, are these your father’s bodyguards?” Christine asked, her voice trembling with hope.
I knew there was no way these men came from my father. For one, they wouldn’t have to hide themselves from me in this way and for another, they just rammed into our car.
“They’re coming over. Oh my God, what do we do now?” Mandy screamed.
“Everything will be fine,” I said first to myself, then repeated it to the girls, “Everything will be fine. Don’t panic.”
All three of us jumped with fear at the thump on Christine’s side of the door. Mandy screamed. A masked face appeared next, then one at my window, and another at Mandy’s.
“Don’t panic,” I repeated automatically, even though I didn’t believe my own words.
The men pulled on the latch of the locked doors.
“Christine, can’t you step on the pedal and blast our way out of here?” Mandy shouted.
“No!” I screamed now more afraid for the sake of the girls whom had tried to help me than myself. “That van will not give way to this little car—”
There was a sudden strike and the window to my right cracked with a thud. While Mandy screamed, the man produced another instrument, which he tapped on the cracked window, and the glass shattered into pieces.
“Get out!” the man yelled. “All of you.”
Chaos broke out in the car with all of us screaming.
A gun appeared, and the command that followed was curt and simple, “Shut the fuck up!”
It was effective. Christine’s jaws snapped shut, Mandy’s hands went to her mouth to seal it in silence, and my mouth was still open but no sound came out.
The man put his hand inside, yanked the latch, and pulled the door open. “Get out now!” he ordered.
We all did as we were told, but the moment Mandy stumbled out, she made the mistake of trying to run for it. The result was an immediate and brutal strike across her face. She fell to the ground with a scream of pain and terror.
“Mandy!” I yelled and turned towards her, but the hard nuzzle of the gun pressing into the back of my head stopped me cold.
“Move another muscle and I’ll blow your head off.”
Such fear filled my chest I couldn’t even breathe properly.
“Tie them up,” the one with a gun to the back of my head said. It was clear they were professional, purely by how quickly and efficiently the plastic ties were bound to our wrists.
Mandy was dragged roughly and slammed against the car. “Please don’t hurt me,” she cried. “Please.”
Her quiet sobs broke my heart as I tried to meet her gaze to tell her how sorry I was, but she wouldn’t even look in my direction. I couldn’t understand what was happening. I had no idea this kind of danger was lurking around me. Now, I desperately wished I hadn’t rallied the girls around to help me.
Christine had gone extremely quiet, and was also leaning against the door beside me.
“Who’s Siciliana?” he asked, but he stared at me. He knew it was me, but he was making sure.
None of us spoke.
One of the men lifted his arm again. He pointed his gun to the back of Christine’s head. “Who the fuck is Siciliana?”
“I am!” I instantly surrendered. “I am. I’m Sienna Siciliana.”
The man who had asked the question nodded to his companion with satisfaction.
“We need to get out of here,” one of the men said. “Get to it!”
“I’ll come with you but please, please let my friends go. They have nothing to do with this.”
None of them bothered responding.
Instead they moved into action. “Move,” they commanded and they shoved us into walking.
The three of us were herded towards the van ahead.
I kept looking back to catch the gaze of the one pushing me. “Please. Let them go. I’m the only one you need. They have nothing to—”
“For the love of God, will you shut the fuck up?” he snarled.
“Calm the fuck down,” another man scolded him in Italian.
A phone began to ring. It had the same ringtone as mine and I froze thinking it was mine. The last thing I needed was to have my phone confiscated.
“Yes,” one of the men said gruffly.
I breathed easier at the realization that it wasn’t mine.
He listened to whoever had called, then turned his head to look at me with cold, dead eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked.
My heart began to beat like a trapped bird against my chest.
“As you wish,” he said and ended the call. He slipped the phone into his pocket and addressed his companions, “Let the other two go. Only she comes with us.”
