“My mom is going to be really upset if I don’t come home tonight,” I blurt. “Let me go.”
The doors lock.
I fumble in my purse. Find my pepper spray.
“Yes!” I whisper. “I’m a strong, independent —”
I spray… myself.
“Water,” I gasp, coughing, wheezing, blind.
I suck in a lungful of peppery air and yank at the door handle, begging it to open.
Too late.
“Stupid fucking girl,” he snarls, grabbing my jacket and dragging me forward.
“You didn’t even handcuff me!” I wheeze.
He pauses. “You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?”
He loosens his tie.
I gulp.
“I cannot believe,” he sneers, “that I kidnapped the most unattractive woman in Manhattan.”
Oh.
So… not the future love of my life after all.
“Stop trying to fight me,” the kidnapper growls, his voice rough. He has the loose tie in one hand.
“What are you going to do with that?”
“Do what I tell you, and I won’t have to hurt you.” He releases me. Shifts the car into gear.
Yeah. Screw that.
I jerk the steering wheel.
“Dammit!” he shouts as the car swerves, barely missing a lamppost.
I fling the passenger door open.
Freedom!
I’m delirious. I—who dresses like she’s auditioning for a nursing home and goes to bed early—have escaped a full-blown kidnapping.
Forget my laptop. Forget my purse. They can all burn.
I launch myself out of the car while the man wrestles with the wheel.
One foot hits pavement.
“I’m free!”
My dog whines.
