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I told him.
“Yeah, it’s official. I’m crazy about you.”
I grinned even though he couldn’t see me.
“Text me when you get home, okay?” he said.
“Okay.”
I hung up but didn’t put my cell back in my purse just yet. I leaned against the brick wall and sighed.
“You mind if I smoke?”
I was startled, not having heard someone approach. I hoped he hadn’t been eavesdropping. The young man with lank brown hair, average in height, had a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in his hands. He was halfway in shadow, even with the lights from the parking lot.
“No, go ahead,” I said, wanting to head back toward the street.
“Thanks.” He grinned, showing crooked teeth. “I’m trying to quit. It’s not working out.”
I nodded absently, not really wanting to get drawn into a conversation with a stranger. My phone pinged with a text letting me know my Uber driver was just around the block.
He puffed on the cigarette and released a cloud of smoke. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Thanks for the offer, but my Uber just got here. Have a good one,” I said.
He moved like a jungle cat, swift and determined, clamping one of his hands around my wrist before I could even turn, and then using the other to punch me in the stomach so hard I thought I was going to pass out.
While I was gasping for breath, he grabbed me by the hair with both hands and yanked me toward the bushes. I couldn’t scream for help because I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs. He smashed an elbow into my jaw.
Lights out.
Chapter 27
My body lurched,jostling me awake. I cracked open an eye to darkness. I blinked a few times, trying to clear my vision. Scratchy fabric covered my eyes, and the smell of heavy-duty tape filtered through my nose. I lifted my hands to remove the cloth shielding my gaze—only to find that I couldn’t use my arms because they were bound behind my back.
I struggled to hoist myself up, the plastic ties digging into my wrists. My skin burned with pain. Panic swirled inside me like a tornado.
I couldn’t see. I could barely breathe. And I had no control over my own body. My jaw throbbed from where I’d taken an elbow to the chin and my belly cramped from being punched.
Who had kidnapped me? Why?
Did it matter?
No.
I listened. It was quiet, except for the sound of rubber on asphalt. After a moment, I heard the crinkling of foil and the audible munch of food.
“Dude,” a man barked. “Can you not treat my car like a dumping ground? Fuck.”
“Where the fuck do you want me to put it? Not like there’s a trash can around here,” a second man said.
“I don’t know. Stuff it in the door or something.”
A man sighed and then I heard the crumpling of a bag. “How much fucking longer?”
“What are you? A six-year-old asking if we’re there yet?”
“I gotta piss. Pull over,” the passenger whined.
