Fifty feet down the dark alley are three men, one on his knees, one holding him, and the third pointing a gun at his head.
I squeeze my eyes shut, sure that I’m imagining this whole thing, but there is just enough light from the flickering streetlamp at the end of the block to cast the scene in shadowy light.
I can’t see anyone’s faces, but I can see enough to know what’s happening and my blood runs cold with fear.
And then the gun pops off, making me startle. I don’t mean to, but a small cry falls from my lips as my hands raise to my mouth to cover it.
But it’s too late. Both men still standing look at me. The one not holding a gun barely hesitates for a second before he starts charging straight for me.
I scream again, not trying to hold it in as I spin, the treads of my sneakers helping me to pick up speed as I break into a run, my longer legs, stretching out to move as quickly as possible.
But it isn’t fast enough. I can hear him gaining and my lungs strain as another scream builds in my chest.
He’s going to catch me. Will he kill me? Worse?
I’m losing energy, my legs turning to jelly and my body slowing as a broken sob breaks from my lips. Where am I even going?
The high rev on an engine stops me in my tracks as a car appears from the street on my left. The sleek black sedan stops in front of me, the tires screeching, as the driver’s door whips open and a man steps out.
He’s got the car between him and me but our eyes lock as he pulls out a gun. A giant gun.
A gun like I’ve never seen before. I think I’ve gone numb. This should send me to the ground with fear, but I don’t feel a thing. Is he going to shoot me? Dimly, a list of things I wish I’d done flashes through my mind.
I wish I’d visited my dad’s grave more. I wish I’d graduated college. Would have made him proud. I wish I’d had mind-blowing sex…
“Stop,” he snarls.
“I am,” I whisper my hands going up.
But his eyes are not on me, they’re behind me, and that’s when I realize he’s not speaking to me at all.
I turn my head to see both men who’d been chasing me also stopped, ten feet behind me with their hands in the air.
“Get in, princess.”
I know he’s talking to me. My brain won’t even start on whether or not I think it’s a good idea to get in the car with the man who’s holding a giant weapon. I can’t get my legs to work. “I…”
“Get. In. Now.”
Something about his tone, the command, I obey, stuttering forward and pulling on the handle.
The part of my mind that loves little details, hears the perfect tone of the car door opening. It’s heavy but well-made and the noise it makes is one of quality. Like an airtight vault being opened. A slight suck as the seal gives.
I open the door wider, sliding into the leather seat, the smell of new car and expensive cologne hitting my nostrils.
Activating my other senses is helping calm my nerves, and with a steady hand, I close the door, the satisfying sound of it sealing shut makes my breath rush out from my lungs.
I’m not safe. I know that.
It only takes one look out the window, to see the two men who’d been chasing me down still standing just feet away. What happens when the driver lowers the gun?
“We’re going to take this nice and slow,” the driver calls. “I’m going to get in my car, you’re going to go back to your boss.”
“I don’t think so,” one of the killers calls back. “We need the girl.” He’s got an accent, but my brain is too frazzled to process which one I’m hearing.
“That’s going to be a problem,” the driver answers.
“For you.” The other guy spits back. “Hand her over.”