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Sabrina
My head aches.I move to touch my temple and find that I can’t. As I become more awake, I know that I’m tied to a chair with my hands bound behind my back and my ankles fastened to the legs of the chair. There’s a blindfold covering my eyes, but I can hear people talking. They’re too far away to make out what they’re saying, but I know I’m not alone.
Panic starts to set in. I’m tied to a fucking chair! Who are these guys? What the hell do they want from me?
“She’s awake,” I hear one of the men say. He has a heavy accent. What is it? Russian? German? They’ve got the wrong girl. It’s a mistake. I’m a mistake.
“I’m not who you think I am,” I blurt out. “You have the wrong girl. I don’t know you.” The words come out fast as I try to make sense of it all.
Suddenly, I feel someone approach. Firm hands grab the arms of the chair. His breath heats my face. I lean back, but I have nowhere to go. I gasp at the harshness of his barked words.
“I know who I have,” snaps the man. His accent is even heavier, his voice deeper, rougher, and less tolerant.
“What— What do you want? I—I didn’t do anything.” I shake my head wildly.
“Do you know why you’re blindfolded?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer. “It’s for your protection. I’m feeling generous today. If you see my face, I’ll have to kill you.”
I lower my head, simply to ensure I don’t see his face, although the blindfold is so tight, I can’t see a thing. “Please don’t.”
“If you answer my question, perhaps”—he pauses—“I may be persuaded to let you go.” I nod and wait for him to go on. “You came across a man in the alley behind your clinic.”
I gasp. Oh my God, this is the killer.
“I see you are putting two and two together.” He moves closer, his mouth near my ear. “I will not hesitate to end you. That man said something to you. I want to know what he told you.”
“He didn’t—” Instantly, his hand comes around my throat and squeezes. I can’t breathe. As I pass out, I think I’m going to die.
* * *
Alex
Her purse is lyingby her car door. Her phone is still on the ground, the face cracked. The car hasn’t been touched. A few droplets of blood are next to the phone. Caleb swabs a sample. I already know it belongs to Sabrina. My stomach clenches, and it’s taking everything I have to keep my shit together.
“We’ve done all we can here. Men are out canvassing. We should go see Chloe and see if she heard anything else. Background noise or another voice.” Caleb is working methodically. That’s how he copes. Normally, that’s exactly what I would do too.
“Right,” I agree, but I’m reluctant to leave. I take one last look around before I follow Caleb back to our vehicle.
“Detective Thorne, over here,” one of the officers calls out to us. “Found this guy who says he saw something.” Caleb and I sprint over to meet him, and as we approach, we see a teenager leaning against the chain-link fence. As soon as we get close enough, the office says, “Tell them what you told me.”
“There were two guys. One in the car, and the other man went to talk to this really pretty girl. She was on the phone and didn’t see him. The guy in the car saw me and told me to take off or else. I don’t need any trouble, so I left. My father would kick my ass if I get into trouble,” the kid says.
“What did they look like?” I ask, hopeful that we may actually have caught our first break and we’re a step closer to finding Sabrina.
“Suits. Dressed really good. Expensive shit. About your age, I guess. The one waiting spoke with an accent. Russian, maybe,” he says with uncertainty. “Didn’t get a good look at the other one. He had his back to me.”
Between Caleb and me, we’re able to get a decent description of both the guy and the vehicle he was driving. Caleb puts out a BOLO for the car, and we drive ourselves over to the clinic.
* * *
Sabrina
This is it.My time’s run out. After hours of enduring the same endless question over and over, and countless threats, the big man, who had no qualms about choking the life out of me, had his two goons put me back in the car.
I don’t know which was worse, the threat of removing the blindfold and killing me right then and there, or being choked until I passed out, then brought around and having it done all over again. My wrists, arms, and shoulders ache, my throat is raw, my head is pounding, and at this point, I’d welcome death over any other form of questioning.
At that moment, they open the back passenger door and slow down and push me from the moving car. With my hands still bound behind my back, I have no control. My body pounds against the pavement, and I roll right into the curb, smacking my head. The only good news is that the impact breaks the ties holding my wrists together, and I’m able to rip off the blindfold.
A car comes to a screeching halt just feet away.
