Page 15 of Morally Gray Daddies

I at least had some satisfaction about how difficult I’d made it for them to catch me, slim satisfaction though it was. I couldn’t stop mentally kicking myself. Especially when they literally rolled me up in a rug to carry me out of the warehouse. I could hardly breathe, squished between the fabric, and the inability to move was making me feel panicked, but there wasn’t anything I could do.

If only I hadn’t been so distracted by that stupid note.

Trying to keep my breathing even and steady because it already felt like I was running out of air, I felt tears start to slide down my cheeks. My breath hitched.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

I would run out of air if I did. I was sure of it.

All of my focus was on trying not to cry, even as more tears leaked down my face and snot clogged my nose, making my breathing situation even more precarious. I was going to die here in this carpet.

They put me down. I tried to listen, but if they were talking, I couldn’t hear them. But I felt the vibration of the car as it started. I was in a car. Probably the trunk. It had already been so dark, I couldn’t tell from the light but what I could feel of the surface was too flat to be a seat.

I couldn’t move enough to escape. I wriggled, trying to work my way up through the roll, but I wasn’t getting anywhere. I tried to roll back and forth, but they’d wedged me against something. My breath was coming faster in short, little pants that I couldn’t stop as my emotions welled up.

Stay calm. Just stay calm and wait for the right opportunity.

If any opportunity came. Maybe they’d just toss me in the river, still rolled up in the carpet. Or dump me in a barrel of cement. Or use me for target practice.

They wouldn’t do that; Hailey would go berserk.

Hailey wouldn’t know.

I wanted to wail, but I managed to hold it back, just barely.

I don’t know how long I was in the carpet. I think I started blacking out as I struggled for air. I wanted to black out. I didn’t want to spend one single more moment aware of how helpless I was, of feeling the crush of fabric tightening around me.

I was aware when the car stopped. When they picked me up again. I stifled a sob as they began to move me, every muscle tensing in my body as I waited for my inevitable death.

But they kept walking.

And walking.

It was pure torture.

Maybe that’s all they were going to do. Carry me around until I wanted to die just to make it end.

I’m already there, boys. Just get it over with!

I had never thought I’d be the type of person to lay down and accept death, but I’d never imagined I’d be in this type of situation, either. Every time I’d thought about getting caught, I’d always imagined how I’d get away.

I’d almost done it.

But almost didn’t count.

Dizziness rushed through me as I suddenly went rolling, hitting something on the floor hard. My vision swam, blurry and fuzzy, but I was no longer in the carpet. I automatically tried to get to my feet but immediately fell back down again, my limbs not working correctly.

“What the hell is this?” The voice was deep, angry, and vaguely familiar. Rather than trying to get up again, I blinked rapidly, attempting to get my bearings as I finally sucked in as much air as my lungs could take. It felt so good to breathe, tears sprang to my eyes all over again in relief.

I’m not dead yet.

“That’s Hailey’s friend.” That voice I recognized—Hailey’s husband, Jack, clearly shocked and disbelieving. “Clara.”

Blinking away the tears, I tilted my head back and looked up to see Jack and his father, Don DiNardo, standing over me.

“What is going on? You were supposed to catch the thief!”

I was a little insulted he immediately jumped to the conclusion that I couldn’t possibly be a thief, but on the other hand, I was more than prepared to use that to my advantage.

---