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I glance back, just as another man tries to snatch me around the waist. His face is also hidden in a ski-mask. And my door is already unlocked. Open.
I spin around and kick at him with all my might.
He seizes my foot, only to tear off my sneaker. And then he comes halfway into the car and picks me up like I weigh absolutely nothing. Terror envelopes me, and I reach for my phone. It slips from my fingers as he pulls me out into the rain.
“MOM!” I scream.
“LUNA!” Mom wails. “DON’T HURT HER, PLEASE! PLEASE!”
“MOM!” Tears burn my eyes, and I’m thrown onto the rough cement. Glass shards dig into my hands and knees. A boot slams up into my chest, and I cough. Rain droplets blur my vision, and I try to crawl to my feet.
Another boot to the chest.
I want to curl up. To become a real roly-poly in a soft shell and never emerge. Not until it’s safe.
Another boot.
“Donnelly,” I cry out.
“Which one of us is she asking for?” A chill rakes my entire body, and my head whirls like I’ve sucked on too much helium.
“Fuckin’ shut up,” someone else snaps.
I hear mutterings behind me. “Where’s Xander?”
“Not here. Just these two.”
“Luna!” Mom yells. I can sense her trying to run after me. Trying to reach me. “Leave her alone!! LEAVE HER ALONE!!!”
I look up. The cratered dead-end road is lit from our headlights. Some masked guy so easily restrains my mom. Lifts her with one arm around her stomach, like we’re made of the weakestnothings.
“Take anything you want! Just let her go!!” Her gangly limbs flail.
“Mom!” I croak into a scream, my face wet with tears and rain. Adrenaline and fear surge through me—I try to sprint after her, tripping over my feet to stand and move.
It’s a stupid idea, maybe, to not run away and save myself.
But it’s instinct to want to be with the ones you love, the ones who make you feel safe.
I know I can’t overpower these men. Neither can she. But I’d rather be in my mom’s loving arms, suffering, than take the futile chance of escaping and being on the cement alone.
Cruel hands suddenly wrap around my hips, stopping me, and I watch as another man throws a fist in my mom’s cheek.
“NOOOO!” I scream like a knife is plunging into me. “MOM!”Mom.
Their fist flies at her again. I shut my eyes.
I can barely hear anything but my own pulse, my own terror. I can’t watch. I can’t look. I turn my head even more and squirm in this guy’s hateful clutch. “Why are you doing this?!” I shriek. I don’t get what they hope to gain by hurting us.
“Find their phones!”
I realize my dad and Donnelly are still on a call, but they’ve been left in the car.
“DAD!” I scream.
I swear I hear my name. Distantly. And then nothing. My gut drops in pure horror. What do I do? What can I do? “What do you want?!” I yell.
No one answers me.
