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“Where is my friend? Hannah? Did you take her too?” I asked.
“Didn’t want her. Just wanted you.”
I recoiled at that. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to kidnap me.
A chuckle emanated from the other side of the room.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
I scoured my memory, searching to bring this stranger’s voice to the forefront of my mind.
Nothing.
“No, I don’t - ”
“The Honey Pot. Saturday night. I tried to get cozy and give you a warm welcome but you were a frigid little bitch and your watchdog came to your rescue.”
“Joey,” I whispered in disbelief.
“Oh, good. You’re finally catching up. You know, you made this a hell of a lot harder than it had to be. All you had to do was agree to some adult playtime at my place and voila, I tie you to a chair and send a pretty little ransom note to your father for two million dollars.”
I choked. “Two million? You’re insane! My dad doesn’t have that kind of money.”
“Not my problem,” Joey replied. “If he wants his daughter back alive and in one piece, he’ll find a way to get the money. Every red cent of it.”
I squirmed in my chair. “Why are you doing this? I don’t even know you!”
Joey’s footsteps came closer. The squeak of his shoes indicated he was right in front of me. I froze. He yanked the hood off my head and I squinted. The room was small, littered with garbage, and the carpet was crunchy and brown beneath my feet.
“That shiny new neighborhood your folks moved into earlier this year?” Joey continued, crouching on the balls of his feet in front of me. “That used to be my home. But I was trailer trash. Poor kid from the poor side of town, always destined to be poor. It’s people like your family, flashing your cash as if it’s a Get Out of Jail Free Card who are the problem. You wiped out my home without a second thought. You stomp all over us, you build your fancy homes, and then you move in, nice and comfy.”
“My family didn’t have anything to do with that,” I countered.
“Your father was one of the first names to buy a home in that brand new neighborhood. So, I’m going to make him pay.”
The door opened and a short guy around Joey’s age with black hair and brown skin entered the room. A gun was tucked in the back of his pants which made my heart jolt.
“Some dude just rolled up in a van and he’s asking for you.”
Joey frowned. “Who? What’s his name?”
“Called himself Allen.”
Joey shrugged. “Don’t know an Allen. Send him away. You’re not supposed to let anyone up to the trailer, Rico. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
Rico spread his hands. “He was really insistent. Said it was about the girl you took.”
Joey stood, swearing under his breath.
A split second later, the window behind me shattered followed by a muted pop-pop sound. Glass shards stung my back and shoulders. Two perfectly round holes were embedded in the wall.
“Who the hell is shooting at me?” Joey roared.
He pulled a switchblade from his boot and sliced the zip-ties away from my ankles but he kept my wrists bound. With an arm locked around my middle, using me as a human shield, Joey pushed me into the hallway and up to the front door.
On the dry, sparse patches of grass that served as a lawn stood Crow. I was so relieved to see him that a sob escaped me before I bit my lip and swallowed it down. He looked terrible and perfect all at once. He was bruised and he favored one leg but he wasalive.
“You,” Joey hissed. “I knew the watchdog would show up eventually. How did you find me, old man?”
