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“Yes, I’m okay.”
“Did you see them?”
“No, they had ski masks on. Do you think it was the Death Heads?”
“Probably.”
“Oh, God.”
The trunk was completely dark, but she could already hear Ghost’s breathing increase. His claustrophobia was taking hold. Already his breathing was rapid, sawing in and out of his chest, a chest that was becoming slick with sweat.
“Jesus,” she heard him whisper between his labored breathing. “It’s like a coffin in here.”
She felt his body tremble.
“Ghost, it’s going to be okay. We’re going to get out of this, right?”
He tried to laugh, but his teeth were clattering together as if he were shivering with cold. “Of course we are, sweetheart.”
“You’ve got to slow your breathing.”
“E-easy for you to s-say.” He clamped his teeth together, and she heard him growl in frustration. “Goddamn it. I fucking hate this s-shit.”
“You have to go somewhere else in your mind, Ghost. Close your eyes and think of something else.”
He stuttered out another attempt at a laugh. “Your ocean?”
She grabbed at his example, the one she’d told him about. “Yes. Yes. Imagine the water. You’re floating. It’s warm and lapping at your body.”
“I’d rather imagine your tongue lapping at my body,” he gritted out between clenched teeth.
She was tempted to ignore his comment, but in the end she decided to go with it. Perhaps his imaginations would work better that way. “Yes, Ghost, my tongue on your body. Close your eyes and feel it.”
After a minute she felt his breathing slow. She didn’t know what he was imagining in his head but it was working. She felt her shoulders slump in relief.
Her attention moved to the handcuffs that bound her. She worked her wrists, twisting and folding her thumb under. Jessie had always had small hands with delicate wrists; she used that to her advantage now. Twisting and pulling, she felt her wrist slide an inch and hope soared inside her. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. After a minute, she was able to slide the cuff down another half inch.
“Ghost?” his body still trembled, but he was managing to keep his breathing under control.
He grunted.
“I think I can get the cuffs off one of my wrists.”
“Yeah?”
She struggled a moment longer and finally pulled her wrist free, groaning at the pain in her shoulders as she brought her arms around. But it only impeded her a moment, and then her hands were all over Ghost, his chest, his face. “Baby, we’re going to get out of here,” she assured him.
They felt the vehicle slow for a turn, and they shifted against each other. The car rocked slowly over a bumpy road.
“There’s a safety latch, Jess. Find it. Quick.”
“Where?” she asked, frantically feeling around.
“It should be in the center, near the latch. It should be flat and T shaped.”
She felt around, and then her hand closed around something just as he described. “I found it.”
“Good, baby. When you pull it, try to keep the trunk from flying wide open. Get a peek at where we are if you can.”
