Why can’t I think clearly?To my left, Isabella lies on a stretcher, her leg wrapped in some kind of blow-up splint.
“Izzy?” I freak because she’s so still. If not for her and the others, I would’ve gone crazy.
“Lucky, what’s wrong with Isabella?” I reach out my hand, my husband grabs it, and squats beside me.
Grayson, my boss, appears out of nowhere and joins him. “They gave her something for the pain. She might have broken her leg but she’s fine.”
“Step back please.” The taller of two paramedics straps me in, looking vaguely familiar.
Where have I heard that voice before?
Two paramedics lift my stretcher, the wheels click down, and I’m rolled toward a waiting ambulance. Once inside, I remember. It was dark and one of the paramedics was across the room. This is the guy who locked us in the restaurant, the one with the zip ties.
“He-” My scream is stifled by a large hand closing off both airways.
The paramedic hisses and loosens his grip. “Shut it or die.”
While I attempt to breathe, outside, my husband curses. I’m pretty sure there’s a fight because fists meet flesh.Thank God, he knows I’m in trouble.
“Hands up. P-police.” A young male voice sounds nervous, but at least he realizes something is wrong.
Wide-eyed, I stare out the back door. As seconds tic by, my kidnapper sweats, his foul odor filling the cab.
Suddenly, the back doors slam shut and a driver jumps in the front seat. Tires burn rubber, the ambulance lurches forward, and my stomach heaves.
A tied-up man in the same uniform as my kidnappers falls onto his side and moans. Looking away, my captor loosens his grasp so I bite down on his hand and scream.
Damn, damn, damn.It’s too late. Sirens drown out my desperate shouts. Then, wheels bump over the curb and I’m raced away to God knows where.
