My heart races with regret and dread.
I refuse to die. I have too much left to do in this life.
I’m smart. I can stay alive until Charlie finds me.
My head throbs from the blow Decker delivered when he smashed my temple against the roofline as he pushed me into the truck, but now that my vision has stopped swimming, I don’t think I have a concussion.
I take a deep inhale, hoping to calm my overwrought nervous system. A huge mistake. Pain slices through me, stealing my breath.
My ribs are bruised, maybe broken.
I’m not sure of the damage, other than everything hurts. I do my best to adjust, but each move is like being stabbed.
I’m helpless.
My hands are restrained behind my back using one of those stretchy car rope things my dad is always telling me I need in my trunk for reasons I’ll apparently be thankful for later.
The sting of tears makes my eyes well up.
I’m guessing this isn’t what he had in mind.
I frantically blink away tears. I can’t cry.
Crying is something I’ll do later, when I’m safe with Charlie.
Right now, I need a clear head to figure out a plan.
First, I need to gauge Decker’s emotional state. It’s hard to tell from the floor because I can’t see him. All I can hear are his restless, jerky movements and occasional nonsensical muttering.
I clear the thickness from my voice. “Where are you taking me?”
He snorts. “You think I’m stupid enough to tell you?”
My heart is pounding out of my chest as adrenaline and fear coat the back of my throat. I close my eyes and do my best to regulate my breathing, shallow as it might be. I remind myself the best way to help this situation is to remain level-headed and calm.
I ask another question. “Why were you at Sam’s?”
Other than some agitated growling, he doesn’t respond.
I can’t imagine he went out tonight with the intention of kidnapping me. By doing so, he’s set off a chain reaction that’s out of his control. He must be desperate.
Yes, that makes him more dangerous, but it also makes him prone to mistakes.
He’s got to be spiraling. I can use that to my advantage.
I try again. “I’m assuming something I said spooked you and you didn’t mean to kidnap me, so let’s talk about it.”
The engine revs as he floors the truck. “If you think I’m stupid enough to start confessing to a bunch of crimes, you’re not half as smart as you think you are. I see right through you.”
He takes a curve without any brakes, sending the vehicle swerving.
I cry out as I roll. My left side radiates pain, and I hold my breath to keep from making it worse.
He regains control, and the ride smooths out again.
When the pain goes from blinding to throbbing, I attempt to appeal to his ego. “How did you figure it out?”
He laughs, harsh and bitter. “Women like you don’t follow men like me out of a bar. Plus, you’re fucking the sheriff—doesn’t take a genius to figure out you were up to something.”
