By the time Kristin saw him, it was already too late. She put her head down, hoping he’d miss her, but the way he was moving directly towards her, looking straight at her, told her that wasn’t going to happen.
Pivoting on her heel, she turned around, walking in the other direction. The next thing she knew, his arm had linked through hers. He fell into step with her, not saying anything, not making a fuss as he guided her back to the corner.
There were people all around them. She could scream. She thought about it. But she was too scared. No, scared wasn’t the word. She was terrified.
Back on the side of the street she’d just crossed, he pulled her to a halt. She didn’t dare look at him. She didn’t want to see the expression on his face. Part of her wanted to close her eyes and hope that when she opened them again that the last minute would have been a terrible nightmare.
She should have hurried down here, made that first bus. Now it was too late.
“My car’s just down here,” he said, sounding eerily calm. “You start screaming, or making a fuss, and I’ll gut you like I just gutted Soothe. You understand me?”
His hand pinched her elbow, shaking it.
“I understand,” she told him.
He walked her to the end of the block and then around a corner. The BMW was there. He made sure to stay with her all the way around the car. He opened the passenger door. She got in.
“Don’t fucking move,” he said, slamming the car door closed, walking around and getting in next to her.
As the doors locked with a clunk, her heart sank. She’d had her chance to run, to yell, to do something, but she’d been so jolted by seeing him appear from nowhere that she had frozen like a rabbit in headlights. Now the chance was gone, and it was just the two of them, alone, in his car.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. He didn’t switch on the engine.
Silence settled between them. He stared straight ahead.
A minute passed. Then two.
“You want to see a picture of your friend?” he said finally.
Kristin didn’t respond.
He held his phone up, angling it so she could see the screen. She turned her head, looking away.
“Maybe it’s for the best you don’t look. Don’t want you throwing up in here,” he said, putting his phone away.
Reaching over, he grabbed her hair and yanked her head back.
“We’re gonna have to get you a wig.”
He hit the button. The engine turned over. He pulled out into traffic.
“Where are we going?” she asked him.
He ignored the question and kept driving. No one could see them through the heavy tint on the windows. For the first time, as she watched the streets busy with people, she felt truly like a prisoner.
“Where are you taking me?” she repeated.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll like this next guy.”
“Why? Why will I like him?”
“He’s a magician,” said Hanger. He started laughing. It was a crazy laugh, the laugh of a maniac or someone who had completely lost their mind. “He makes girls like you disappear.”