Page 69 of Hidden Attraction

One of her kidnappers. Not the driver or the one who dragged her by the arms. This one was younger, in his early twenties at most. He wore a hoodie over his long tunic and cheap sneakers, all of which made him appear even younger.

Nervous energy radiated off him even though he stood completely still, just looking at her, assessing.

Alyssa swallowed hard.

Time to survive.

“Do you speak any English?” She kept her tone light, conversational. “Just a little?”

The man stiffened but took another step into the space. He shrugged. “Some.”

She nodded slowly. “That’s good. That’s really good. What’s your name?”

His fingers twitched at his sides. “Not important.”

“Okay, okay,” she said quickly to put him at ease. “I get it. No names. That’s smart.”

He didn’t answer. He moved to the far wall and leaned against it, arms crossed. The action punched her square in the gut with memories of Julian standing so similarly, his dark eyes like a steel trap closed on her.

Now all she wanted in the world was to stare into those eyes again. Because they weren’t hard, not when he looked at her.

The young man wasn’t Julian. He wasn’t tough, but he was trying to act it. And he wasn’t as hardened as her other kidnappers were.

Voices floated through the crack in the door, muffled by the cinderblocks. Rough voices exchanged commands and someone argued with another. Alyssa stayed quiet, masking her expression so the young man thought she didn’t understand.

But she did understand. Every. Single. Word.

Some accents were thicker than others, but she picked out the meaning.

One mentioned a buyer.

She turned her attention back to the young man. “Do you have a family? A wife?”

“Not important.”

Either that was his catchphrase or he didn’t have a big grasp on the English language.

They were trading her for money, but she thought it best to keep that from him.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

Something flickered in the depths of his eyes. Eyes that on any other occasion she would call kind.

She pulled in a breath and continued, “What’s the plan? Is somebody coming for me?”

He hesitated only a beat and then nodded.

She leaned forward until her shoulders screamed in pain. “What if I can get you more money?”

“More?”

“Yes. A lot more. If you let me go, I can make a call. I can get you paid directly.”

He seemed to consider that. Alyssa kept her expression open, hopeful, with the right amount of desperation. She’d negotiated with terrorists and warlords. This was no different.

Just more personal.

Shifting his weight from foot to foot, he eyed her. “Why should I believe you?”

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