Page 179 of Sincerely, Your Enemy

My body springs into action so fast my brain couldn’t possibly keep up, my hand flying to the gear to push the shift into drive. I only realize the man’s steps ahead of me when I hear him shout, “Oh, I don’t think so,” next to me.

The next thing I know, my window’s shattering into a million pieces, and a hand is wrapped around my throat, squeezing it so tight the air is snuffed out of my lungs.

Pure panic surges through my entire body, and I open my mouth to scream, but I can barely get out a sound. My hands immediately fly to his, and I dig my nails into his flesh as hard as I can, clawing at him for dear life, but he doesn’t let go.

“You meddling little bitch,” the man spits, disgust lacing his voice.

It all goes down in a matter of seconds, but my struggle seems to last an eternity. He’s too fucking strong, and it quickly becomes clear the only way I’ll make it out of here alive is by getting help. I let go of the disgusting hand choking me and start to feel around my car for my phone. It was right here a second ago, but I dropped it when he started choking me.

“We have to go,” the second man rushes his dirtbag buddy along, and the man suffocating me releases me for a second and loops his hand inside the car to try and locate the lock button on the door.

I don’t think twice, gathering every bit of energy into my body and screaming, “Help!” at the top of my lungs. I’ve initiated the 911 call. I have no idea where my phone is, but it’s in the car, and that means they’ll hear me. Not that there’s much they can do about it right now.

The click of the doors unlocking makes my heart drop to my stomach. I’m still screaming bloody murder when Fake Cop Number One throws the driver’s door open and begins trying to yank me out of the car.

“You didn’t really think we wouldn’t get you back for fucking everything up, did you, little girl? Six months of grooming, wasted because of you. Now, you’re going to pay us back.”

Little girl.

That’s what the message from the unknown number said.

It was them.

They were threatening me, trying to scare me, and I brushed it off instead of taking it seriously. I didn’t even tell anyone.

Fuck.

I’m putting up the fight of my life, kicking and screaming, but it doesn’t deter him. Good thing is I’m still wearing my seat belt, which makes pulling me out a tad more difficult.

“Get your ass over here,” Fake Cop Number One yells at his accomplice.

Fake Cop Number Two rushes over to the other side of my car and yanks the door open, quickly undoing my seat belt.

Then he’s pulling me out by my hair, dragging me to the cop car—which I’m sure is fake—parked behind us. I should’ve known better. I know some kidnappers use this tactic from allthe true crime documentaries I used to watch. The fake cop car is the perfect way to get a woman to comply.

I’m fighting him tooth and nail with no success when I see another man, one I hadn’t seen until now, climb out of the car and run over to the back to pop the trunk open.

“Hurry the fuck up!” a familiar voice urges.

I don’t need to get a look at his face to know the third stranger participating in my kidnapping isn’t a stranger at all.

He’s the man I trusted enough to tell where I would be tonight.

The man I used to think I had feelings for.

Aaron.

It’s still pouring rain, and if it wasn’t, they’d be able to see the tears gushing down my face like a river.

Fuck, this can’t be happening.

Was Aaron my version of Sierra’s Gabriel?

The bait?

The pretty face luring me in?

Sierra started talking with Gabriel a year ago, long before Aaron showed up as Theo’s new roommate, so I’m guessing sending him to infiltrate our lives was the next part of their plan.

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