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Fear. It’s all around me in the truck, in the dark night air. My heart rate thunders, rage, dread, curling inside of me.

I reach in and pick it up, reading the message that waits.

Mine.

44 Delilah

A man’s hand on my leg. His mouth on my cheek.

Cole.

I roll my head on a hard shoulder. Soft leather and the harsh smell of cologne. I whimper.

Not Cole. Not my cowboy.

“No…please…” I moan as I float in the hazy space between consciousness and unconsciousness. Reality and dream. Nothing makes sense. I’m caught in a slow, rocking movement that does nothing to calm the churning inside of me.

“That’s my name all right. Please. Get used to it because you’ll be saying it all night.” A chuckle from beside me. “Don’t worry, Lady. It’ll all be over soon.” A hand strokes up my leg.

I try to lift my head, but it feels like it’s made of lead. I’ve been drugged. I can tell by the way everything’s out of focus, by the way my bloodstream’s on fire. But slowly my eyes flutter open and catch sight of darkness whipping by. The silhouette of trees blur in my periphery. A car. I’m in a car.

The man’s voice is calm and gentle. “I don’t often lose the things I want. But you…you were the most beautiful. You made me obsessed with you. Made me need to possess you.”

My head falls back against the seat, my mouth parting in a silent scream, but nothing comes out.

“Shhh, Lady. We’re almost there.”

Oh god. A chill grips my spine.

He’s taking me somewhere. Away from Cole. From my home.

“Fuck.” A curse from the driver. “There’s a cop.”

Hope leaps into my heart as red and blue lights illuminate the inside of the car. I struggle to sit up.

“Pull over.” Please wraps an arm around my shoulders, stilling me, and coldness seeps into my bones, my skin.

All around me, movement slows. My heartbeat thunders in my ears. Gravel crunches. I hear the slide of a window and then the driver asks, “Is there a problem, officer?”

“Taillight’s out.” The slice of a shaky flashlight. “You in from out of town?”

“Yes sir. My client has business in town.”

“Late business.”

“International travel is a delicate matter.”

“I see.”

“Hh—” I struggle to make noise, to be heard but my voice sounds so very far away. “Hh—”

“Roll down the back window for me.”

Oh, thank god.

Darkness gives way to the bright beam of a flashlight. Light spills inside the backseat, and I blink. Squint. All I see is a towering frame of a khaki uniform. A firearm on the hip.

The arm tightens around me. “I’m sorry for the trouble, officer. My wife and I had dinner. She had a lot to drink. She’s a lightweight, I keep telling her that.” Please chuckles. A palm scrapes up my legs, squeezing the inside of my thigh. “As you can see, I’m taking very good care of her.”