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Amid a dense brain fog, she finally placed the man and wondered why Gabbi’s best friend Lance would say he voted for her. The thought came and went as she focused on remaining upright.
Lance took her elbow and guided her through the crowd. People said hi, but their blurry faces seemed to fade in and out. Her stomach roiled again, and she wanted to pick up her pace, but each foot weighed a hundred pounds. She must be wading through quicksand.
They made it to the elevator bay, and the last thing she remembered was telling Lance which floor she was on.
When she woke, everything was still hazy, but the sickening, gut-level awareness that something was very wrong rang through the haze loud and clear. The room was pitch dark. Her hands and feet were bound, and a soft, wet cloth filled her mouth. She attempted to sit, but the pressure on her chest and upper thighs brought the terrifying revelation that she was strapped to the bed.
It all came rushing back. Meeting Lance at the bar. Feeling sick after two sips of a drink. He must have drugged her. She’d been kidnapped, and no one knew where she was. Panic took over. She yelled, but the gag did its job properly and her muted screams went nowhere.
She inhaled deeply through her nose, knowing she had to calm down. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she could tell she was in a hotel room. Similar to the one she and Noah had checked in to. So, she was still at the hotel. That was good. She also seemed to be alone. At least for the moment. Also good.
A plan. That’s what she needed. Her mind remained muddled, but she was aware enough to know she had to escape. Situations like this rarely ended well, especially when someone had already tried to kill her.
It couldn’t have been five minutes later, she heard a click at the door, followed by a rush of light as someone entered the room. Her heart rate doubled, but she closed her eyes and calmed her breathing. Better to fake unconsciousness until she had a handle on what was happening.
“Still not awake?” a gruff male voice said. Lance. “Come on. Wake up, sunshine.” He touched her leg, and she flinched.
“Ah, that’s what I thought,” Lance said, turning on a lamp. “Sorry. Had to make an appearance downstairs to lock in an alibi for where I was while you were upstairs ODing on drugs.”
She tried to talk around the gag in her mouth, to ask what the hell he was thinking, but only mumbles and groans escaped.
“You should have dropped out, like I suggested,” he said. “Now, you’re forcing me to do something I really don’t want to.”
He walked out of sight for a minute and returned with a syringe and a short piece of plastic tubing. Fear coursed through her, clearing the mental fog even further. She struggled, attempting to free herself.
“It’s too bad about your drug problem. And how it finally killed you right before the big award ceremony.”
He was going to kill her over a stupid award. She kept trying, begging him to remove the gag so she could talk to him. “Please, please,” she mumbled through the cloth.
“If I take out the washcloth, you’ll scream,” Lance said. “Obviously, I can’t have that.”
She shook her head. “I’ll be quiet. I promise,” she said. It came out so muffled, she wasn’t sure he understood.
“I don’t have much time, so let’s make this quick.”
“Why are you doing this?” Daisy asked through the gag. He must have made out what she’d said.
“For Gabbi,” he said simply, shrugging his shoulders. As if murder was a perfectly normal way to make an impression.
Did he really think Gabbi would love him after finding out he was a murderer? Did he really think he’d get away with this? Then again, he just might. Noah had no idea where she was. No one did, except maybe Gabbi. And for all Daisy knew, Gabbi could be in on it.
All this for a trivial trophy? She thought winning was so important—vital to her business and her confidence. But now, faced with death, she realized how inconsequential it was.
How ridiculously unimportant itallwas—her goal to win, her online persona, her whole life, quite frankly. She flitted around the world, making stupid videos. Earned money by looking pretty, acting dumb, and promoting products she never would use otherwise. Money had become so important to her that she’d put her life in danger over it. And she was about to pay for that risk. She’d gladly forgo the award, but it was too late now.
Lance tied the plastic around Daisy’s upper arm. One thing was certain, she wasn’t giving up without a fight. She thrashed wildly and punched at him with her bound hands. With her shoulders and thighs pinned down, movement was limited.
He backed away for a second. “Stop fighting me, or I’ll drug you again.”
Was that possible without getting her to drink something? How many ways could he have to drug her? And if he tried to force her to drink, he’d have to remove the gag. Then, at least, she could let out a few good screams. She kept kicking.
“Plan B,” he said, reaching for a pillow. “I’ll just smother you till you’re unconscious. Then inject the drugs.”
Shit. Was this how she was going to die? Time slowed, and she had what she assumed to be a near-death experience. What did she regret? What did she miss out on? What would she do if she got out of this mess?
Amid the terror, a niggling thought poked through. The thought had tormented green eyes and a dry sense of humor. Noah. If she survived this, she would take a shot. Tell Noah that she’d fallen for him. That despite their differences, it was entirely possible she was in love with him.
She struggled as long as she could while he held the pillow over her face. Just as the darkness closed in, and she was about to give up, she heard pounding on the door.
