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Absolutely not.

I twist, kick, and claw at anything I can reach.

Something rough is pulled over my head.

The world disappears.

Panic slams into me.

“Stop fighting,” a voice snaps beside my ear.

“Then stop kidnapping me!”

Not my most diplomatic response.

But diplomacy is looking increasingly overrated.

They shove me into the van.

I hit the floor hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs.

One man climbs in after me while the other disappears toward the driver's seat.

The side door slams.

An engine starts.

I scramble upright, but a hand catches my shoulder and forces me back down.

“Stay still.”

I freeze.

Not because he told me to.

Because I need to think.

My phone is still in the cab.

Torch heard me scream.

He knows something happened.

He'll come looking.

But I can't spend the next several hours hoping somebody else figures out where I've been taken.

I need to pay attention.

The van turns left.

Then right.

The road beneath us changes from smooth asphalt to something rougher.

I count the seconds between turns.

Listen to the engine.