“Yeah, he’s waiting for you at the hospital. You need to get there right away.”
“Did he text me instead of my family?” She realized her purse was still back in a locker behind the stage. When she tried to turn, the officer gripped her arm tighter as they kept walking. “Wait, I need my purse.”
“Someone’s getting it for you and alerting the rest of your family. You really need to hurry, honey. Your brother doesn’t have much time. We’ve got to get you there ASAP.”
“Oh my God.” The world blurred as tears filled her eyes. “Thank you, Officer Hicks.”
“My pleasure, sweetheart.”
They made it to the private parking lot. Brock’s SUV was gone. He must have gotten a message and gone straight to the hospital. But why not wait for her? They walked toward a police car, then went right past it. Another regular car waited, idling. She didn’t recognize the driver. Her stomach sank.
“Aren’t we taking your police car?”
“Nope, we’re taking this one.” Hicks opened the back door on the passenger side.
This isn’t right.
Brianna tried to pull away. “Stop. I don’t understand. Who’s that? Who’s the driver?”
“Plainclothes officer. Get in.” Hicks placed his hand on the top of her head and shoved her into the back seat, then slammed the door. Brianna scooted across the seat and tried to open the other door but it wouldn’t budge. She hit the button to roll down the window but nothing happened. Hicks was in the passenger seat by now and the car started to roll.
“The doors and windows won’t open.”
“Told you, plainclothes car,” Hicks said, his voice drained of all warmth.
The driver snickered.
She knew that undercover officers often looked scuzzy, but this driver went a little beyond. His knuckles gripping the steering wheel were taped like a boxer’s.
“Let me out!”
The car exited the parking lot, turned in the opposite direction of Longmont, and sped up.
“I said let meout!” Brianna grabbed the driver’s head, trying to claw at his eyes. Screeching, he slammed on the brakes. Hicks grabbed her arm, turned, and punched her. Dazed, she fell back, only faintly aware that the passenger door had opened and closed and now the back door was opening.
“No.” She tried again to get the other door opened as Hicks got in the back seat.
“I wanted to do this easy, but fuck it,” he said. His gun was drawn and pointed at her. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
Brianna’s blood went cold as she did what he told her. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice quiet and even as he cuffed her. “What did I do?”
“Nothing personal. You can blame your brother.” A bandana went around her eyes and the world went black. She struggled and he hit the back of her head, filling the blackness with stars.
“She needs to be able to talk,” she heard the driver say.
“Not at the moment.” A second, bad-smelling bandana went over her nose and mouth and Brianna lost consciousness.
* * *
She awoke to a horrible headache and someone roughly pulling her out of the car and setting her on her feet.
“Walk, bitch,” the driver said, giving her a push. She blindly stumbled on the gravel under her feet before he grabbed her arm and kept her from faceplanting.It’s surprisingly difficult to walk with your arms cuffed behind your backshe caught herself thinking as if it were important. But her brain didn’t want to focus on anything beyond that. Because to think ahead meant thinking of the possibility that she wasn’t going to get out of this alive. She knew who Hicks was, and she’d seen the driver’s face. They didn’t let you live when you knew those things.
Brock didn’t know where she was. That was a problem too, probably the biggest.
That doesn’t mean he can’t find you if you stall long enough to give him time.
She liked that thought. She’d keep that one in mind.
