Page 25 of His Hostage

I don’t even know who they is. It’s obvious that someone is after him, though.

My heart pounds with fear. I start to weigh my options, and I decide that I need to leave this place. I can’t be jumping onto motorcycles for the rest of my life, running from brutal killers.

Coming here was a much needed vacation that turned into a nightmare. I need to go back home, back to the snow and the evergreen trees.

I need my home.

I thought Dan was bad, but these guys are a hell of a lot worse.

We come to a stop in our desolate neighborhood. Jeffco steps off the bike, spurs jingling against his leather boots. He lights up two cigarettes and hands me one. I take it, but only out of courtesy.

Slowly, he walks up to his porch and stands in front of the package.

He knocks on the door. “Rowan,” he yells. His voice is raspy and deep. “Hey, Rowan! Open up, brother.”

He pounds on the door this time. Still, there’s no answer. He pushes the door open and mutters, “Ah, fuck.”

My heart pounds hard. I glance at my house, ready to run and lock all my doors.

Jeffco turns around and says, “Someone got in here. Rowan is nowhere in sight. His place is trashed.”

Jeffco walks through the place with Andy, guns drawn. “It’s all clear,” Andy says, as they walk back outside.

“Who’s doing this?” I ask.

They both turn to each other, but they don’t say anything.

“Who is it?” I repeat.

“It’s no one, honey,” Jeffco mutters, chucking his cigarette.

“Bullshit,” I say, walking up the porch.

“Rowan ain’t the politest guy in the universe,” he mutters. “He’s made some enemies. It’s nothing you have to worry about.”

“Are you kidding me?” I scream. “I almost got raped and killed last night, and you have the audacity to tell me it’s nothing to worry about?”

“Settle down there,” he says. “You have every right to be angry. It’s not my fault, though. Take it up with Rowan. I’ve got no idea who’s after him, or what he’s done.”

“Open the package,” I find myself saying, taking a step further up onto the porch.

Jeffco opens his mouth and says, “We should wait for Rowan to—“

“Open the package,” I repeat, growing angrier and more resilient. “Last night, I survived hell. I want you to open that fucking package. I want to know why people are trying to kill Rowan. I’m involved in this now, too.”

He grimaces and turns to Andy, who just shrugs. “Fine,” he sighs, turning red. “We’ll have it your way. Open the package, Andy.”

Andy backs away. “I’m not opening that thing,” he says.

“Open the fucking package or I’ll start making you pay for drinks at the Silent Barn,” he says.

Hearing this, Andy bends over and picks up the mysterious box. “Fine. You want me to open this thing? I’ll do it.”

“Do it,” I say, eying the open corner. I’m dreading what’s inside. I feel as if it’s my worst fears are contained in this one box.

He takes a deep breath and peels the corner open. “Ah, shit!” he yells, dropping the box. This time, instead of landing flat, it lands on its side. The contents roll out and…

“Fuck!” Jeffco yells.

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