Eight days had passed since she’d last seen or heard from the man.He wasn’t answering his cell, which wasn’t usually cause for concern.He had the whole absent-minded professor bit down pat, always had.But eight days?He usually realized the battery had died within a day or two, charged his phone, and then returned messages or checked in with a phone call.
Could be on a binge.That reality smacked hard.She’d moved back to Austin to be near him after he’d gotten sober and joined a support group.Before then, it had been too heartbreaking to sit idly by and watch him self-destruct.The accident had been hard on him.Survivor’s guilt, she’d read, could bring the strongest person to their knees.
This disappearance felt different.There’d been cryptic messages beforehand.Messages that had led her to believe something ominous was brewing.The last one had read:thr will b blood.
Should she know what that meant?
Ivy tapped the screen on her phone to get the music started before slipping it into her running armband.
“Ace of Spades” by Motörhead blasted in her ears, canceling out all the questions.Metal was the only way to calm the constant noise in her head.The song was fast and loud, and just what she needed to drown out the near-crippling anxious thoughts that had been playing on repeat in her mind.
Where are you, Dad?
Running down 10thStreet, she cut left onto North Lamar Street and then ran past her favorite bookstore, Book People, on her way toward the Colorado River and Cesar Chavez Street.She passed W.6thStreet, then 5thStreet.At the corner of 3rd, she stalled out in thick foot traffic.Even this time of morning on a Sunday, the streets were filled with bodies.
Everyone from runners to bikers to walkers seemed to make their way toward the Colorado River and end up directly in her path.Ivy kept herself positioned toward the back of the pack, figuring it would break on the other side of the street, and she could zip in between people and bikes until she broke out of the clump.Much of her life had been spent hanging back, watching and waiting before making a move.The strategy had served her well.At times, though, she wondered what it would be like to charge ahead without overthinking every situation.How would her life be different if she took bold steps rather than calculated moves?
Would she be less lonely?
Where the hell did that thought come from?
The light changed.The crowd moved as one large mass.Once they got on the other side of the street, they would surely break apart and spread like a hungry virus on the search for new cells to infect.
The opportunity to bust through the pack seemed about as close as Christmas to March.The clump had to break at some point.She strained her neck to see around the bobbing heads in front of her, blocking her.
Come on.Come on.I don’t have all day.
Patience had never been her strong suit.
Music thumping, she scanned the sea of hair in front of her, searching for an opening.
Hands gripped her from behind.
What the…?
There had to be at least two men.Two sets of very large, grabby hands fisted around her clothes and body parts.Before she could scream, one of those hands covered her mouth as she was being hustled to the side and stuffed into the backseat of an SUV.She fumbled to grab her phone, but her arm running band was immediately ripped off her.
“Hey, Siri,” she said, “call 911.”
“You think that’s going to work, bitch?”
She didn’t recognize the voice.A bag came over her head.
In the next second, her phone was turned off, then tossed out the window.Must have been.She heard the window go down and the crunch of her phone as it smashed against pavement.What now?She had to think.
The engine was purring, the SUV rolling, and those large hands shoved her down onto the floorboard where they ensured she stayed despite her trying her best to wriggle out of them.
She kicked, but a vise wrapped around her calf, forcing her to stop.She tried to scream, but another hand covered her mouth, stuffing cloth inside.
“We have a live one,” one of the men said.She heard the smirk in his words.
Bastard.
“Hold still, bitch,” the other one said.“If you want to live to see your father again, you’ll behave.”
Those words slammed into her like bullets, causing her to freeze momentarily.What connection could these men possibly have to her father?It dawned on her that if she was being taken to a secure location, she needed to memorize the turns for when she escaped.She also needed to stop panicking.Freaking out would get her nowhere.
She recalled her starting point: Cesar Chavez and Lamar.
