Page 10 of This Thing of Ours

She thought for sure this was the part where he would ask her out on another date, but he didn’t. Instead, he dropped his hand, took another step back and helped her into the car, closing the door once she was situated.

She watched as he rounded the hood, got in on his side, and started the car. She felt as if she should say something, but she wasn’t sure what, so remained silent as he pulled from the parking space and drove out of the lot.

“Where are wegoing?” Gabby scanned the dark highway through the front windshield, looking for any familiar landmarks.

“My friend’s having a party, and I promised him I’d stop by.”

Why hadn’t he said anything earlier? She didn’t like surprise plans. “I really should be getting home.” She’d already been gone too long. Someone would notice her missing soon, if not already, and if she didn’t get home, they would start to worry.

Derek took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “We’ll only stay a few minutes. I’d like to show up with a pretty girl on my arm. Make all the guys jealous.”

Gabby nodded. Worse come to worst, she could always call herself a cab.

The house was in the middle of nowhere—literally, she had no idea where they were. Two cars were parked at the curb in front, and an SUV sat parked in the driveway. Lights were on, but the place looked and felt quiet. No shadows moved in the front windows. No loud music could be heard.

“You sure this is the right place?” Gabby asked, turning her attention from the house to Derek.

He pulled up behind the cars parked at the curb, took the key from the ignition, and unclipped his seat belt. “This is it.”

He got out of the car, walked around to her side, and opened her door. He reached out a hand. Gabby hesitated before taking it and getting out of the car. Something didn’t feel right.

“What kind of party is this?”

“Just a small get-together. We usually play poker or video games.”

He held her hand firmly as they went up the walk. The porch was shrouded in shadows the moon couldn’t penetrate, giving it a spooky vibe. Gabby dug in her heels and tried to pull her hand from his. She did manage to slow Derek’s stride, but just barely. “Listen, I really should get going. But it’s cool if you want to stay with your friends, I’ll call a cab.”

The front door of the house opened suddenly, and a man in a suit filled the entrance. He shouted something in a foreign language—Russian maybe—and Derek’s grip on her grew tighter.

Derek said something back in the same language, pulling Gabby along—because at that point shewasstruggling. The man stepped aside as she was shoved through the door. She heard the slamming of it and a bolt being thrown before she gained her balance. Spinning on her heels, her eyes found Derek, and she threw an accusatory look his way. “What the hell is going on?”

He did have the grace to look ashamed—she’d give him that—before he mumbled, “Please, forgive me,” and slunk from the room.

The man by the front door moved forward and took her by the upper arms in a steely grip. She tried to yank away, but all that got her was a tighter hold. He spun her so she faced the room, and that’s when she noticed the other man, sitting in a wingback chair. He sat, legs crossed, one hand dangling off his knee, the other holding an unlit cigarette with his elbow resting firmly on the arm of the chair.

He wasn’t someone Gabby recognized—not that she should—but she couldn’t help noticing his similarity to Derek. Or, should she say, Derek’s similarity to him.

Her suspicions were confirmed when he said in a deep, thickly accented voice, “My son, he follows orders well, da? Unlike some children.”

Clearly, he meant her and her foolishness of going out unprotected. A pit of dread settled in her stomach, making her feel queasy. With the fingers of the man behind her digging into her flesh, she knew it was pointless to struggle again. That didn’t stop her from trying, earning her nothing but an even firmer grip that would surely leave bruises.

She turned her frustrations back to the man before her. “Who are you?” Because, she sure as hell could bet, Derek’s last name really wasn’t Miller.

“Who I am is irrelevant. What Iwantis the true answer you seek.”

“Fine. Then what do you want?”

“Just a bit of your time. Nothing, really, in the broad scheme of things.”

That wasn’t a true answer either, and Gabby knew it wasn’tnothinghe sought. Fear raced down her spine the longer his eyes remained fixed on her. Then, after what felt like an eternity, his eyes moved to the guy behind her, and with no more than a curt nod, she was dragged from the room.

She’d like to say she screamed bloody murder and put up a good fight, but after her first initial protest, her abductor’s arms wrapped around her chest so tightly, she used all her fight just to breathe.

She was half-dragged, half-carried down a flight of stairs and into a room. The arms holding her loosened, and she was tossed, but before she could take a full, relieved breath, she landed flat on her stomach, promptly losing it again. Her chin whacked the hard floor, jarring her brain and causing her to bite her tongue.

Her mouth filled with blood and she spat, getting up on her hands, head hanging, mouth open, panting. She swiped her lips, dislodging a string of pink-tinged saliva that she wiped on the thigh of her jeans.

She raised her head, looking around. The room was gloomy with only a single lit bulb hanging from the center of the ceiling, but she could tell she was in some sort of storeroom. Gray, windowless, water-stained brick walls surrounded her. A cold concrete floor—that she’d already discovered up close and personal—stretched before her, uncluttered save for a few scattered boxes lining the walls and a single metal folding chair a few feet away. A single set of stairs led to a door and the only means of escape.

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