CHAPTER 32

 

Hallie and Finn arrive just before seven and we decide to take Luke’s truck over to the shopping center in Lewiston since it has a bigger cabin. Hallie claims the passenger seat because of her cast, forcing Finn and I to squeeze into the back. The ride is more than uncomfortable, both of us trying our best to keep our knees from touching while silently staring out opposite windows.

Luke pops in a CD and the first verses of an old Meat Loaf song drift through the truck before he strikes up a conversation with Hallie about school. I listen with one ear as they discuss some history assignment about Hitler, a hot debate soon erupting about whether the Internet would have made any difference back then. After a while, Finn butts in, and I realize that they are all history buffs. Figures.

The shopping center is packed and we only find a space in the lowest level of the parking garage, which is almost deserted. Our steps echo in the empty space, mixed with Hallie’s giggles. She has her arms around Finn’s and Luke’s shoulders, clumsily walking along in her cast while the two guys keep her balanced. I trot behind with slumped shoulders, envious that she is the center of attention. Finn laughs as they almost stumble, his eyes sparkling with happiness, yet he cringes every time he looks at me. Maybe this joint night out wasn’t such a good idea after all.

The others decide on pizza at Antonio’s without consulting me, and even though I usually love Italian food, I object for good measure, just to be told that the majority rules. Once inside the restaurant, I get stuck with the seat facing the wall despite Luke knowing that I hate sitting with my back to the dining area. It makes me feel naked and exposed.

They order a large pizza to share with plenty of garlic bread—again without asking if I like any of the toppings—and ignore me during their vivid conversation, this time about Roman culture. I feel totally left out and have no clue how ancient history could even capture anyone’s interest.

Hallie is like a magnet for compliments and distributes her little flirtatious remarks evenly between Luke and Finn. She laughs with that typically high-pitched teen giggle, throwing her head back, which I find totally annoying but seems to mesmerize the guys. I can’t believe her behavior. She has totally changed and is acting like a slut.

Luke gawks at her almost the entire time, only glancing at me every so often with a stupid grin on his face, while Finn avoids eye contact altogether. I nibble on my garlic bread, trying to toss in my five cents at times, but whatever I try, I can’t break into the conversation.

Longing for the only friendly voice I can think of, I decide to check on Marcel, but when I look in my purse, my phone is missing. It must have fallen out in the truck on our way over.

“Hey, Luke, can I have the car keys? I left my phone and want to get it.”

He searches through his jeans pockets and pulls out the key. “Are you okay on your own, or would you like me to go with you?”

I’m so mad at him for ignoring me that I would probably bawl him out the second we leave the restaurant, and I don’t want to cause a scene. “No, I’m good. It’ll only take a second.” After all, I am in a mall with tons of people around. It’s safe.

Pushing my way through the crowds, I head for the elevator. When the doors open, my gaze falls on Justin, Cynthia, and a few of their friends. I frown; this is the last thing I need.

Justin bows deeply. “Milady. May I have your autograph?”

Everyone starts laughing as my cheeks begin to burn.

The anger seethes faster than I can control it, and my hand rises and slaps him across the face before I can even take a breath. “You measly jerk. After everything I had to deal with, I’m so tired of your fucking shit.”

That kills the laughter, and all eyes turn to Justin. He rubs his cheek where I left a nice clear handprint, his free arm sliding around Cynthia. “Come on, honey. She’s totally crazy.”

Yet as he pulls her away, she meets my eyes. To my surprise, I find nothing but admiration.

One of his friends winks at me. “Good for you. Take care of yourself, Kelsey.”

I give him a feeble smile as he trails behind them. My fist balls in victory. It feels good to finally stand up to my ex and I won’t let him torment me any longer. I’m so done with all of them.

I walk swiftly across the parking deck, cursing Luke for parking far away from the elevators. The truck unlocks with a low beep. I open the driver’s door, fumbling under the seat for the phone, but come up empty handed. Glancing around the truck, I finally locate it in the middle console with no clue how it could have ended up there.

When I notice a missed call from Marcel, I push the recall button without another thought. It rings for a long time, and I’m about to hang up when I hear his voice on the other end. “Yo, what’s up?”

There’s chatter and music in the background.

“Marcel, it’s Kelsey. You called me?”

“Yeah.” His voice is light and cheering erupts next to him. When the shouts settle down, he delivers the news. “It’s all over, Kelsey. We made the bust and Tyrone is in jail. Me and the guys went out to celebrate. I can’t tell you how relieved I am.”

I should be thrilled for him but can’t hold back the tears. “That’s great, Marcel.” I choke on the words and take a deep breath to stop my voice from trembling. “I’m so happy for you.”

The noises in the background fade until they disappear completely. “What’s the matter? You sound like you’re about to cry.”

Tears roll down my cheeks and I sniffle. “I’m not having a good time tonight, and Finn is still really mad at me. I guess that upset me.”

I sit down in Luke’s seat with the door open, telling Marcel all about the drive over and how left out I felt in the restaurant. My sentences are interrupted by sobs as more tears stream down my face. I feel absolutely silly for ruining his big night with my drama.

There is silence when I’m finished.

“Where are you?” he asks. “Your voice is echoing.” The lightness in his tone is gone; instead he sounds worried.

“I’m in the parking garage at the Lewiston Mall.”

He sucks in a deep breath. “Where are the others?”

My laugh is hollow; he is beginning to scare me. “Upstairs in the restaurant. Why?”

“I want you to walk back into the mall immediately.” His words have a sense of urgency. “Stay on the phone until you’re back in public.”

I glance around. He is making me paranoid. I nevertheless start walking toward the elevator, my eyes darting around the empty deck. “Marcel, talk to me. Why are you so worried?”

“It’s probably nothing, but I don’t want you to walk around alone in deserted places at the moment.”

My steps accelerate, but the elevator seems miles away. The few sounds in the garage are drowned out by my racing heartbeat; I wish Marcel would say something.

Cold sweat pearls on my back when tires boom on the ramp. A car pulls into my deck. I glance at Luke’s truck, wondering if I should go back and hide, but I’m already halfway to the elevator. My steps turn into a jog, my eyes fixed on the silver doors. A van shoots past me and comes to a screeching halt right between me and the elevator.

“Marcel, there’s a car that’s blocking my way.”

He takes in a sharp breath. “What type of car is it?”

“A red van.”

“Can you see the plates?”

It’s facing sideways and I’m not even sure it’s from Maine. “No.”

“What about the driver? Can you describe him to me?”

I squint at the van, but the windows are tinted. The interior is totally obscured. “No, it has tinted windows.”

“What’s the van doing?”

“It’s just sitting there with a running engine.” My knees turn to jelly. “Marcel, I’m scared.”

“Go back to your car.”

I spin around, rushing toward the truck.

“Do you know how to drive?”

I glance back at the van whose driver accelerates the engine with a roar in the park position. “Yes, but I haven’t driven since I was sixteen, unless you count totaling the van at Tacoma Lakes.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

With quick steps, I approach the truck. It’s getting closer. Fifty feet maybe, possibly less.

The van takes off with screeching tires, heading right for me. I start to run, the phone almost slipping out of my hand.

“Marcel, he’s coming for me.”

He lets out a curse. “Stay calm, Kelsey. Can you make it to your car?”

The truck seems to have moved farther away, the van almost at my heels. The driver engages in a cruel game—slowing down until I gain momentum, then speeding up again. A thousand little needles sting at my thighs while I run. Luke’s truck gets closer and closer. I stretch out my hand, almost able to touch it.

And then I fall. I’m not sure if I stumble over my own feet in my haste or whether there is something on the ground, but I hit the floor hard, falling flat on my stomach. The impact knocks the wind out of me. Dark spots start to dance in front of my eyes, a sharp pain stabbing at my spine. I try to move but am paralyzed. My fingernails scrape over the floor to find the phone.

“MARCEL,” I scream with my last strength. I try to get some control over my body, but nothing seems to work. My limbs are totally useless, numbness immobilizing my muscles.

The van stops next to me. Someone jumps out, quick footsteps approaching. I try to turn to face my attacker, but before I can heave my body around, a bag is pulled over my head. The rope closing around my neck almost chokes me. Two arms enclose me and I am lifted up on my feet. When I’m unable to stand, my attacker drags me along like a ragdoll. The tips of my sneakers scrape over the rough ground before cable ties wrap around my wrists. A shove transports me headfirst into the van. The door slams shut, and a few seconds later, we take off.

The car swerves a few times, making me sick to my stomach. I can barely breathe under the bag, the scent of rough cotton stinging my nostrils. Blood soon swooshes in my ears, blending with my racing heart, which pounds so hard against my ribcage that I’m scared it will burst from my chest.

When the van makes a sharp left turn, I’m thrown into a corner. Something cuts through my coat into my upper arm. I cry out in anguish and fear. The warm blood is soaked up by the fabric as pain throbs through my arm from my shoulder to my fingertips.

In the next curve, I’m tossed to the other side, my back colliding with the metal. I whimper, more pain soaring through my body. My head spins and the swooshing in my ears is getting louder. My fingers fumble around for something to hold onto, but with my secured hands, I come up empty.

When the van abruptly stops, I am catapulted forward. This time, it’s my head that crashes into the back door and my skull almost splits in half. I yelp. A metallic taste floods my mouth as I try to shoo the darkness away. It’s a losing battle. The blood in my ears turns into a rushing vortex that sucks me down into a bottomless abyss, tearing with it my pain, sorrow, and most of all, my incredible fear. Three strikes and you’re out. There’s no way I will come out of this situation alive.

 

~~~~

 

When I regain consciousness, I’m lying face down on a hard floor, the bag still over my head. Soft music fills my ears and the scent of orange and cinnamon overpowers the smell of the cotton. My winter jacket has me roasting, more heat emitting from a source to my left. When I strain my ears, I can make out the crackling of wood. All this adds up to a cabin, and given the familiar scent, my guess is it’s Jackson’s.

I stir, trying to determine if someone will notice. A foot prods me in response, the tip of the shoe digging straight into my wound. I cry out, my body shaking with pain. I wish he would talk to me, finally tell me who he is. I can’t stand lying here on the floor, totally at his mercy.

My arms are pulled backward, which allows the restraints to cut deeply into my wrist. The sharp pain drives tears to my eyes. I’m lifted up onto my feet and pushed forward, but this time I decide to fight. Just as I learned in my self-defense class, I spin around while leaping forward, leaning into his body before pulling up my knee. He must have expected the attack and pushes me away before I can cause any harm.

His punch hits me square in my stomach. I double over, gasping for air. When I stumble forward, my knees buckle before hitting the floor. His next blow is directed at my ribs. Something inside me breaks when his fist connects, sudden piercing pain stealing my breath. I suck in oxygen through my mouth and nose to prevent myself from passing out again. My only hope is that I will be able to outsmart him.

He grabs me by the collar of my jacket and tosses me into a chair. I twist around, kicking forward with all my might, but my feet hit nothing but air. His laughter freezes my blood.

When the bag is pulled off my head, I stare straight into Napoleon’s smirking face. I’m stunned. My brain refuses to process the information, but when the truth finally sinks in, my world stops turning.