This was a nightmare.
But she had to keep my head on straight. As tempting as it was to give in to the panic and fear, Amy knew that wasn’t going to help her. She’d likely just get hysterical, and she didn’t need another blow to the head on top of everything else.
She just needed to think. The van turned to the right, and she figured they were leaving the parking lot. Okay, she’d try to keep track of the turns and guess where they were taking her. Then, if she saw an opportunity to escape, she’d have an idea of where to go.
It was a weak plan, but it was all she had and focusing on a solution made her feel a little better, a little more in control in a completely out of control situation. This whole thing was still terrifying, but she couldn’t let myself assume she was doomed. She wasn’t going to just lay down and become another statistic.
Twenty-something woman goes missing and is never heard from again. Probably the victim of human trafficking.
Nope. Not her. She wouldn’t stop fighting until she got away from these creeps.
They turned again, to the left this time, and it was sharp, making her slide to the right until her back was pressed against the toe of someone’s boot. That got her thinking about how many men were in the van with her.
There was the one that grabbed her. She didn’t see him, but he was strong. Then, the big guy she already pissed off by kicking. Then, she assumed there was a driver.
So, three? Maybe more.
God, she hated that she couldn’t see anything. It made it so much harder to keep her panic under control. She tried to focus on my breathing. In and out. In and out.
“This better work,” one of the men in the back of the van with her muttered. “If Leo doesn’t pull through, the boss will probably kill you for suggesting it.”
“Me? I’m not the one that shot him.” That second voice came from right above where she was laying on the floor. It belonged to the owner of the boot. Was it the man that dragged her into the van? There was something familiar about it, like she might know the guy. But who in the hell was it?
“Maybe not, but you’re the one that talked him into this stupid plan.”
Plan? What plan? Someone was shot?
“The normal doc we use is out of the fucking country. Someone had to come up with an idea.”
Her thoughts were a confused jumble as a little voice she couldn’t quite suppress in the back of her mind kept screaming at her to run or fight or dosomethingto get the hell away from these men. From her studies of human physiology, she knew that was her fight-or-flight response pushing her body into a reaction that wouldn’t truly help her in a situation like this. Flight was impossible in a moving vehicle and fighting at least three men wasn’t an option even if her hands weren’t secured behind her back and she could see.
Focus on breathing.
She was panting without realizing it, and she forced herself to take in a deep breath, thankful that the black fabric covering her head wasn’t too thick. As she exhaled, the truck took another left turn, and she inwardly cursed. She had no idea how much time had passed since the last turn, so it really did her no good to track them. With her mind racing and her heart pounding against her ribcage, the passage of minutes felt distorted. It could have been five minutes or twenty.
“I’ve never seen Mancini so pissed,” a new voice said. It sounded further away than the other two. The driver, maybe? “I guess the Irish are calming the warehouse district now.”
“Fuck,” the familiar voice muttered. “I guess moving against them was a bad idea.”
“Don’t let him hear you criticize him,” a new voice growled. “He’ll put a bullet between your eyes for that.”
So, there were four of them. Her chances of getting away from them got worse and worse by the minute. And the things they were talking about…
What kind of twisted shit were these guys mixed up in? It sounded like some kind of underground criminal organization crap she’d seen in movies.
Well, they must be based on reality more than I realized.
She hadn’t moved in a while, and her shoulder was starting to hurt from the way she was laying, but she was afraid to even adjust her position. The men weren’t paying any attention to her, and she wanted it to stay that way. She wasn’t sure why they took her, but something in her gut told her this wasn’t a normal abduction. They talked about a plan, and she had a feeling she was a part of it.
But why her? And what could they want if not money or her body?
The van suddenly slowed down, and Amy’s throat felt tight as it came to a stop. This was it. Whatever destiny awaited her, she was about to find out.
The door of the van was opened again and rough hands pulled her out. She didn’t even try to resist this time, despite the way the taste of fresh air through the thin black fabric flooded her system with adrenaline that urged her to flee.
It wasn’t the right time. She’d get nowhere in this condition. So, she stumbled along as a man with a bruising grip on her bicep dragged her forward. She was led up steps and the creak of a door opening met her ears.
The black bag was whipped off her head with no warning, and Amy blinked as her eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room and took in the strange scene in front of her. She was standing in a normal-looking living room. The walls were a light blue color and the gray couch and loveseat were facing a big TV mounted on the wall above the fireplace. The navy curtains were closed, but she could see faint sunlight peeking in around the edges, indicating that they’d been in the van long enough for the sun to rise.
