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I smile broadly, stop walking, and turn to face him. “Hi, I’m Scarlett, and I think we’re going to be great friends.” I offer him my hand and he laughs at the gesture, though he returns it with a shake.
“Elias. And I could really use a friend around here.”
We start walking again, talking about our favorite foods and books. It turns out, Elias and I have a lot in common. He loves classic novels, although I prefer romance and he’s more into thrillers. We both prefer tacos over pizza, and beer over wine. I told him a list of the books I love that I couldn’t find in the library, and he told me he knows of a small bookstore in town that carries all the classics. If only we could get away and go there.
After we load our arms with snacks, we end up on the large cement steps in front of the library and begin stuffing our faces.
“Cheese curls next?” Elias asks, handing me the bag.
I graciously accept and squeeze the bag until the bottom of it pops open.
“That’s an easy way to have all your snacks in your lap.”
I flip the bag over and pull one out, tossing it in my mouth. “Not if you do it right.”
Minutes of laughter and conversation turn to an hour, then another, and before I know it, the sun has set. “Oh no!” I jump up, dusting cheese powder and pretzel salt off my jeans. “What time is it?” I ask the question at the same time I look at my wristwatch. “Shit. Shit. Shit. I was supposed to meet Riley an hour ago.”
“Go,” he says, “I’ll take care of the trash and I’ll catch you later.”
“Thanks, Elias. This was a lot of fun and just the distraction I needed today.”
He smiles in response before I turn around and head briskly toward the dining hall with my bag on my shoulder.
I’m almost there when someone jumps out of nowhere, grabbing me.
I try to scream, but my sounds are muffled by the cloth pressed to my mouth.
Everything is quiet.
Everything disappears.
Until all I see is black.
* * *
“Dude. She’s awake.”
“Do it now and take the damn picture, so we can get the hell out of here.”
“I’m not doing it. You do it.”
My eyes open, and I blink a few times, trying to adjust them, but I can’t see. Panic settles in my stomach when I go to speak, but my mouth doesn’t open.
“Fuck no. Did you hear what she did to Crew Vance? He’s one of The Lawless, and she still slapped him.”
If I could talk, I’d set them straight on the fact that I did not slap Crew, I punched him. I continue listening, hoping to recognize one of the voices, but so far, I don’t.
“You untie her, Steven can push her in, and I’ll take the picture.”
“Dude. You said my name. He told us not to say our names.”
Three voices, all arguing about a picture.A picture of what?
I save the name Steven to memory, so I can use it later when I hunt the fucker down and beat his ass.
In an attempt to move my hands, so I can remove the cover over my eyes and my mouth, I realize I’m bound. Lying on my side, on the ground, tied up. I flip over, feeling the grainy dirt between my fingers.Definitely on the ground.
“Whoa!” one of the guys bellows. “She’s moving, she’s moving.”
