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“Thanks, Tim,” I said in relief
.
“Don’t worry, babe. I got you.”
If only he could save me from myself.
* * *
I walked out of the back of my apartment building where I usually met Tim whenever he picked me up. It was mostly deserted but the weather was growing warm and there were a number of tents set up along the street. The pavement was littered with garbage.
I couldn’t be living in the penthouse and still be Tina from Montana staying in the city. My story didn’t exactly scream money.
I shrugged my leather bag onto my shoulder and crossed my arms over my chest. The sun was just beginning its downward arc in the sky. It wouldn’t be dark for another several hours. Tim’s car turned the corner and I smiled, brushing my blonde hair back into place in preparation for seeing him again.
A driver hopped out of the extended cab and walked around the back. He opened the back door and I peered in, expecting to see Tim’s happy face waiting for me as he held a glass of whiskey out for me to take.
Jack Daniel’s. On the rocks. Just like always.
He wasn’t sitting in the backseat though. Maybe he was on the other side with some sort of surprise.
With a hesitant step, I handed the driver my bag. He nodded and I climbed into the back of the car without delay. I brushed off my thighs and lifted my gaze.
Tim wasn’t waiting on the other side, but another man was.
Very slowly, he lifted his chin and I saw those same blue eyes staring back at me.
“It’s good to see you again, Sophia,” he said.
Dean.
This was definitely not my imagination. This was really real.
“How?” I asked. I was too in shock to formulate any more words than that.
“That doesn’t matter. The important part is that I’ve found you again and I’m not going to let you go,” he said firmly.
I rushed toward the door and grabbed the handle, lurching it sideways in an attempt to get out, but it didn’t work. It was already locked, and I wasn’t going to get out that way. I pulled my arm back as far as I could and then threw it forward, hoping I could punch the glass out and escape that way. My knuckles collided hard with the glass and it didn’t even fracture, but the splintering pain in my hand felt like it did. I rolled and drew my foot back hard. I could try to kick the window out, but before I could give it a go, Dean rushed to my side.
“I knew you’d fight, but I didn’t expect this,” he snarled.
I lashed out at him next, but he was so much bigger than me, so much stronger and so much more than I could handle. I was good at the con, not at wrestling.
“I’m not going to let you hurt yourself,” he insisted firmly.
He reached in his pocket and I never stopping trying to escape. I kicked. I pounded his arms with my fist. I twisted and turned as much as I could.
“I didn’t want it to go like this,” he said sadly and before I could do anything to stop him, a wet handkerchief pressed over my mouth and nose.
A sickly-sweet scent surrounded me.
Chloroform.
I tried not to breathe. I tried to escape, but a body can only hold out so long and this wasn’t something I’d trained for. Ten seconds turned into twenty and then into thirty before I was forced to draw in a breath.
I breathed in that scent and my vision went hazy. Black dots danced at the edges of my sight and I wriggled hard in one last-ditch effort to escape.
It was useless.
