Page 4 of Blackmailed to the Altar

When I reached the fourth landing pad, I grabbed my purse.Fuck this.I needed something to power me through the rest of the stairs. I slipped in one ear bud, so I was aware of my surroundings, and hit my workout playlist.BodiesbyDrowning Poolblasted, and I hobbled my way up the rest of the flights.

I thanked every god in existence when I reached the top, the sound ofMiserable At BestbyMayday Paradebringing my entire existence down. I couldn’t help myself, though. Something about music from the early 2000s brought back nostalgic memories.

A picture of a younger me, screaming into the abyss, came through. I closed my eyes, and shoved the memory of that time into the box in the back of my mind. It held some of my darkest memories. Times I’ve tried hard to suppress.

I shivered from the cool air as I walked, spotting my car in the distance. It was almost alone, but I saw a van a few spots down, and that terrified me a bit, but then I remembered the ‘not all men’ lecture I gave a few months ago, and I tried to turn my fear into relief. I would’ve had security escort me, if I’d remembered how deserted it was going to be. After that serial killer, the campus was a lot tighter on security measures, but I should’ve been more careful.

The flapping sound of plastic from beside me caused me to jump. I guess they had some of the structure sectioned off with these really creepy plastic tarps. It was givingDextervibes, and I should’ve paid to park on the street.

I grumbled to myself as I searched through my large purse for my keys. I had so much on my mind, I’d forgotten to grab them, when I pulled out my earbud to listen to music. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. It felt like eyes were on me. I paused in my search, standing in place, looking at the wall of plastic I had to walk by in order to get to my car.

I didn’t see any shadows or anything, although the overhead lights cast a pale, sickly hue on the plastic. I rummaged to the bottom of my purse when I heard the rattling of my keys.

“Yes!” I gripped them in my hand and raised them into the air like a fist pump.Phew!

Feeling a lot less terrified, I happily headed to my car. Nina was always telling me to fix my key ring. It was old, and fell constantly, because I had my house keys and office keys on the same small ring. The weight alone had me constantly running around searching for my key ring.

Maybe if I’d listened to my friend, I wouldn’t have watched my key ring dropping to the dirty ground of the parking garage. If I’d been more sensible like Nina, I would’ve had someone walk me to my car.

As I bent down to retrieve my key ring, giggling a bit at the absurdity of this day, a crinkling sound echoed in the silence. I was startled and looked at the tarps to my right.

A dark silhouette of a man stood in the center, with his head tilted slightly. Terrified, I shrieked, swooping my keys off the ground and stumbling to a run, but unfortunately, I wasn’t wearing sneakers.

I fell to my knees, scraping them, and grabbed one in horror, blood smeared on my hands. I couldn’t stop. I got back up and took off, leaving my shoes behind, uncaring of the rocks digging in. I limp-ran as fast as I could. After what happened on this campus last year, I wasn’t getting snatched by a madman.

In all my years, I hadn’t run as hard as I did tonight.

I reached my car, tears blinding me, and my hands shaking, as I tried to unlock the driver’s side. I cursed myself for not upgrading my vehicle, and keeping this old 2008 Miata. A collector’s edition. Yes, I could’ve hit the button and unlocked the car, but in my panic, I was blinded.

If I didn’t get away, I would be at his mercy.

As I stuck the key into the lock, my trembling got the better of me, and they dropped to the ground. With a loud sob, I tried to grab them, my heart pounding in my throat. I didn’t dare look behind me.

When I stood, I could feel his breath behind me. “No,” I cried, trying in vain to get my door open.

In my frenzy, I pulled on the handle, even though I knew it was still locked. My would-be kidnapper wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me into his body. I shuddered in fear, as a leather gloved hand slid up my torso and covered my mouth, smothering my screams.

“Night, night, little firecracker,” a deep voice growled behind me.

All I felt was a small pinch, the hint of smoke, and then I knew no more.

Italy

The throbbing in my skull forced my bleary eyes open. I tried to groan and move out of my bed, but I couldn’t. Struggling against my blankets, I wiggled my fingers down by my sides, hoping to pull them off, but my hand connected with a thick, abrasive material.

I ran my fingers around the fibers. Was this rope? Where was I? How did I get here?

My eyes were wide open, but it was pitch black, a dull rumbling beneath my back. I was in a moving vehicle. That man. That complete asshole of a creepy dude, who was waiting like a weirdo, stole me.

He had to have.

There was no other reason for him to have been standing there. Did he know about the rehabilitation program? Was this some type of retaliation for the evil deeds I’d done?

It couldn’t be. My heart raced as I tried to find a way out of my binds. When that didn’t work, I opened my mouth to scream.

That idiot hadn’t slapped duct tape over my mouth to keep me quiet. I would have, if it were me, but I wasn’t asked about how I wanted to be kidnapped, so picking apart all his mistakes made sense.

“HELP ME!” I tried kicking the trunk over and over, screaming this phrase until I felt like I was growing hoarse.

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