Oh shit.
I watched enough true crime documentaries to know it was a bad idea to let your abductor take you to a secondary location.
What should I do?
Trent shoved us in the direction of the short-term parking lot, and I stumbled.
“Um, Trent? I don’t know what my mom told you, but I’m married. Happily even. So we can’t—” I broke off as he laughed bitterly
“Fuck, I know that. Believe me, I know. It’s all part of my plan.”
“Plan?” I repeated numbly as I stumbled through the doors I’d entered only a few minutes before.
“Oh yeah. You’re gonna get me a shit ton of money. More than enough to pay off my bookie and then some.”
“You mean the Bratva?” The bundle of nerves squirming around in my stomach multiplied as I remembered the last time someone shoved a gun at me.
“Shut the hell up!” Trent snarled as we hit the sun strewn pavement.
“Everything okay here, folks?” An LAPD officer suddenly asked as he walked toward us with his hands resting on his vest just under his shoulders.
“Fine,” Trent returned jovially. “Just helping the wifey stretch her legs. You know how they cram you into those metal tubes. It’s like a cattle trailer, I swear.”
Trent’s tone was close to the one I’d known for so long I was having a hard time reconciling the insanity of the moment. It felt like an out of body experience or something I’d seen on tv. The jovial cop, the crazy ex, and the stupid girl who let herself be abducted.
I had the insane urge to laugh, but I bit it back. Barely.
Instead, I blinked wide eyes at the officer and shook my head.
His hands dropped to his belt and he quickly unclipped his gun but left it in the holster. “How about we have a conversation? I need to ask you two a few questions. Standard procedure, you understand.”
“I’m afraid we don’t have time for that right now.” His smug voice suddenly sounded tight. Like Trent knew the cop was seeing through him. “We have an appointment we can’t be late for.”
“Well, you’re gonna have to be, I’m afraid. Come with me, please.”
Trent whipped the gun out from wherever he’d hidden it and pressed it against my temple.
“GUN!” the cop shouted before drawing his own and pointing it at Trent.
People screamed and ran away in chaos. The sound of mayhem and running feet joined a weird buzzing in my ears that made me sway in Trent’s arms.
“Let her go!” someone shouted.
I couldn’t breathe.
My chest was hardly moving, and no matter how hard I tried to calm down, my panting increased.
I blinked, and three more cops had joined the first one, fanning out behind him.
“Look, let’s all calm down.” The first cop lifted his gun away from us and pointed it harmlessly at the sky. “Nothing has happened here that can’t be undone. Let’s all just take a breath.”
Hysterical laughter bubbled up, but I swallowed it down. Maybe he was psychic?
I locked panicked eyes on him, and he stared placidly back at me.
After a beat, his gaze darted from mine to the cement under me then back.
He repeated it again, and this time I almost laughed out loud.
