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The end of the bridge and Frou-Frou were far away. She didn’t think Ethan could see what was happening.
And she realized she was on her own.
Another man had been right behind her, and she hadn’t even noticed him. Again with the psychedelic hoodie and the medical mask.
“Scream!” her brain demanded, dropping her jaw open. But all she could do was gasp for air.
“Run!” her brain insisted. She stepped back and pivoted, trying to find a clear path.
Before she could step, the man in the van grabbed at her arm and dragged her forward a step.
She leaned her butt back, dropping into a deep squat, cursing the damned shoes that left her so off balance.
Her purse slid off her shoulder to the walkway.
There was a streak of black and brown.
And a high-pitched, blood-curdling scream.
A scream that set her nerves on fire and made her momentarily freeze.
As her focus landed on the van, she saw the man crouched in the cargo area, with a dog attached to his arm. And for a long moment, Piper’s brain stuttered while she put this picture together.
The information sifted around, looking for an answer, then came up victoriously—Tango!
Her butt hit the cement, her legs constricted by the skirt.
The man to Piper’s left grabbed her arm, hauled her to her feet. No matter what it took, she could not let them get her inside that van.
The guy snagged her around her waist, hoisting her off her feet, her stupid, useless shoes flying off.
Her dress rode up to her waist as she held her legs wide and bent; she felt like an armadillo on its back, flailing to right itself, trying to get over so she could fight.
One of the men snagged Piper’s purse and pitched it into the van, then grabbed the door handle.
Piper was terrified that he planned to shut the door on Tango to break the bite.
She lifted her legs from the hips and kicked at the man, throwing him off balance as he wrapped his arms around his head to protect himself.
To get her away from his buddy, the man holding Piper backed up.
Piper tried a trick Chanti had shown her, making a fist and knocking her knuckles hard across the back of the man’s hand.
She felt her knuckles slide over his delicate hand bones.
He hollered, bucked, and released her, then grabbed her back again.
Piper got her fingers into the man’s hoodie and dragged the cloth down over his face.
The man floundered, but he didn't let her go.
He oofed as he hit the bridge railing.
And in a moment of utter brilliance or profound stupidity, Piper lifted her legs to her chest and flung them over the railing.
By dangling over the water, her captor twisted in a way that his body couldn’t counterbalance. If he was trying to kidnap her, it would take several people to get her back onto the bridge and into that van.
Piper felt the swell of screams lifted by the bystanders as a physical cushion, as if they sent their thoughts slinging underneath her, building a scaffold to support her.
