Page 82 of Connor

Excitement bubbles in my chest while I also feel a little sad. I need to speak to my parents, as my life moving forward will look a lot different. I won’t be going back to Sunshine or to live with Trisha. But I get to do something new, something that’s all mine, maybe do some yoga online and expand our tea business, which will be great to do with Mom’s help.

My thoughts are whirling as I step through the gate back onto the distillery land, and that’s probably why I don’t see the man before he’s next to me.

“Daisy Beckett?” a man's voice announces from over my shoulder, and I swivel quickly.

“Yes?” I say, almost out of breath from being so startled. Unease fills me with the man right by my side, barely an inch between us, my space invaded. I swallow as my heart rate increases. I probably shouldn’t have identified myself, but put it down to shock. My gaze darts around, seeing no one else here in the parking lot, other than the usual business vehicles that park here overnight and a run-down off-white Kombi van.

“We need to talk,” he says, not appearing friendly, but not aggressive either.

“I’m sorry, you are?” I ask as I step away from him to try to create some distance and get me closer to the door. But he’s quick and already stepping with me, apparently aware of my moves before I even make them. My body is still damp, my hair a rat’s nest, and I feel vulnerable as the clothes I threw on barely cover my wet swimsuit.

“Not here. We need to go,” he grits out, and I see him looking around.

“Go? I’m not going anywhere with you.” Something about this isn’t right. He isn’t lost, not asking for directions. Seems to know exactly who I am, yet I have no idea who he is. There’s something about him that reminds me of Soren. Similar height and build. His hair is past his shoulders, skin weathered and tanned, like he has spent his life outside in the elements. Not dissimilar to my mom, really. Although he’s younger and fitter, more my age, I would guess. Before I can make a run for the door, his hand grips on to my arm tightly.

“Keep quiet and walk now.”

Coolness of metal presses into my side, and I look down, seeing a gun in his hand pointed right at me. My panic flares.

“What do you want?” I ask, gritting my teeth so I don’t vomit. I want to scream. I want to run. I want to get away from him and his sweaty stench. Deodorant is clearly not something he uses.

“Shut up and walk,” he hisses low, pushing me along. I look up and around as he pushes me toward the van, praying someone comes. But I know Connor is on the other side of the distillery on his running track and the only other person out at this early hour is usually the gardener, who I know for fact isn’t working this morning because he was at the party with us all last night, and Connor told everyone to come in later today.

“Are you going to kill me? Is that what you’re planning to do? Why? Who are you? I don’t even know who you are,” I quiz him, my words stumbling out over the top of each other, and the gun pushes into my skin harder, causing me to grimace. I wonder if this is it. Is my life about to be over? Just when it’s really getting started? I think of Connor and how much he opened up to me last night, how he’s seeing me as part of his future, and I trip over the road toward the van as dizziness hits me. It doesn’t help that when he straightens me with a curse, he just pushes me forward again. I try to slow my steps, clinging on to the hope that someone might spot me. Is this human trafficking? Is this what happens? Is this how it starts? When I try to ask him more questions, he cuts me off with a rough shove that has my knees buckling.

“You need to shut up,” he warns, but I don’t care, I need to make this as difficult for him as possible without getting myself killed.

“What’s this about? Where are you taking me?” I ask again, but he pushes me harder, so I walk faster, my feet tripping on the ground with every step.

“We’re going for a little drive, Daisy,” he says in a mock sweet, yet dangerous voice that makes me shiver. We make it to the van, and reality dawns on me that I can’t get in. If I get in, then it’s over, I’m as good as gone.

“No,” I state firmly as I try to wriggle out of his grip with all my might, but his hand clamps down on my arm harder, his strength something I can’t fight against.

“Get in the van, Daisy.” Opening the large side door, he gestures with a wave of his hand. I notice there’s no back seat. It’s completely empty, except for the two seats at the front for the driver and one passenger.

“No. Where are you taking me?” I plead as he pushes the metal into my side so hard I let out a sob.

“I’m sure Daddy Dearest will tell you all about it.”

I frown, confused, my breaths quickening.

“Dad?” I ask, before he grabs my hair at the back of my head and shoves me forward. I wasn’t prepared for it, and I lose my balance easily, my shins hitting the door with a painful thud.

“No, no, please. What do you want? Please, don’t do this.” I’m begging, but he doesn’t care to hear it. His foot lifts to my butt, and he kicks me in, but not before my head and neck slam against the doorframe. I feel something pulling against my neck as it scrapes on some rough metal, and my hand immediately reaches up to soothe the pain. My necklace is gone. All I feel is wetness, and I don’t even have to look to know that I’m bleeding. I’m panting, anxiety fully taking over, but my fight-or-flight has failed me. I’m half-in and half-out of this van, the man right at my back. There’s nowhere for me to go. I have no escape.

“For fuck’s sake,” I hear him mutter before I turn to look at him, and he raises his hand, the one holding the gun. I move quickly, but not quick enough as the butt of the gun comes down onto my head, the pain excruciating, the darkness instant.

41

CONNOR

Ipace the office, brow pinched and body coiled tight.

“Have you seen Daisy?” I ask Stephanie as she walks in later than usual. I told all staff to start later today because of the event last night, so even though I’ve been awake for a little while, no one else has been around. Except Daisy. Or she’s meant to be. I left her in bed when I went for a run earlier. When I got back, she was gone, but I assumed she was doing yoga in our new garden, so I hit the shower and made us breakfast. Only, it still sits cold on my kitchen counter, because she never came back.

I looked around the lawns and went to our new garden, but she wasn’t there. After that, I came to the office, looking for her here, thinking she may have started work early since it would be quiet. But I have walked around the offices three times and can’t find her.

“Ahhh, no. Haven’t seen her since last night,” she says, and I just give her a nod, an uncomfortable feeling seeping into my veins.

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