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Me:No. Come meet me for lunch.
Rolling my eyes despite my grin, I tuck my phone back into my pocket. I can’t believe he remembered my love for Lucky Charms Marshmallows. It would be kind of fun to see all his old hangouts. Although, based on his stories, I don’t think it would take very long to see them all.
I head to the café for lunch. It’s usually packed on a Sunday afternoon, but hopefully, I can snag a table while I wait for Ben to show up.
The smell of freshly baked bread invades my nostrils, making my stomach gurgle. The tables are packed with customers either eating or waiting on their food. I spy Levi and Hope at one of the corner tables, their heads bent together, completely oblivious to the world.
As I wait for a table to open up, I peruse the glass case of desserts. There are a couple of breakfast pastries left, three baking sheets of beautifully decorated sugar cookies, and an assortment of cupcakes, breads, and cakes.
I’m debating about getting one before Ben arrives, but a couple leaves their table, so I rush over to grab it instead of getting a cake. I read a book on my phone, willing Ben to show up soon because I’m starving, when his adorable face pops up on my screen.
“Hey, are you close?” I answer, crossing my fingers he’s around the block.
“Hey, I’m so sorry. I have to take care of something really quick. Can you just do a to-go order instead, and I’ll meet you back at home?”
“What do you need to take care of?” I ask, standing from my table to get in line.
“Nothing important. Just a quick errand.”
“Okay, I’ll see you back at the house, then.”
“Perfect. Love you.”
Ben hangs up after I respond, and I stare at my phone for a second, confused as to what just happened. I don’t know what errand he had to run or why he wouldn’t tell me what it was. It’s a little suspicious, but I’ll force it out of him when I get home.
“What can I get ya?” Chelsea asks from behind the counter. She has an adorably evil Yorkie that is obsessed with her and will bite anyone that comes between them. I have the scars to prove it.
“Can I get two BLTs, a bowl of chicken noodle soup, a strawberry summer salad, and two of the chocolate cupcakes to go, please?” I figure Ben can make up for his sneakiness by eating a cupcake off me. No, wait, I’ll eat it off him. That’s better. Torture for him, cake for me.
“You got it.”
She hands me a buzzer, and I stand by the checkout counter to wait for my food. I can’t wait to see Ben’s face when I tell him my plan for dessert. Sometimes I wonder what I did before Ben and I got together. My life was a lot less full; I know that. Even when we stay home to watch movies on the couch, we still have more fun than when I’d do the same things by myself.
My buzzer vibrates in my hands, so I head up to the counter to grab our food. Luckily, it’s only one bag, so I won’t have my hands full. I head back out of the café toward my car, the smell of food wafting up and making my stomach gurgle again.
Hands wrap around my mouth and shoulders, yanking me off the sidewalk and down the alleyway between the buildings.
No. Please, not again.
I struggle against the hold as their grip tightens, willing my brain to remember my defense techniques.
Then, my body starts moving as if it has a mind of its own. I relax, dropping my weight, which loosens my attacker’s hold on me. I pop my hands up to break the hold completely, sweeping my leg out to take down my attacker.
He evades my move, throwing out a punch I wasn’t prepared for as it lands in my solar plexus. I gasp at the power behind the punch, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I recognize how easy Dax’s punches have been.
My attacker growls, racing forward to tackle me to the ground, using his substantial weight to pin me down.
I fight. With everything I have, I fight, trying to pull my body out from his. I gain some advantage when I get my legs loose. Using the leverage of being on the ground, I kick against his chest, careful of my foot placement. It gives me an inch of space, just enough to move my arms and punch him in the throat.
He flinches back, allowing me to get out from underneath him. I hurl myself off the ground, running toward the mouth of the alleyway. I yell out, hoping someone will find me and help me.
I’m almost out when a massive hand wraps around my face, yanking me back into his tree trunk of a chest.
“I didn’t want to do this, my love, but you give me no choice.”
A pinch in my neck and the burn of a liquid entering my system has my mind racing. He drugged me. I can feel my entire body slowing down as the drugs take effect. I trained for this attack. I was ready for it to happen, even though I prayed it never would. I thought I could handle anything that came my way. I was strong. I had the confidence and the skills. I was ready.
As the edges of my consciousness darken, I have one final thought.
