Page 82 of Pushed

This man was uncharted territory. Was he mild-mannered and calm? Did he have a short fuse that could burst in a flash?

I had no clue if he had compassion inside or if he was filled with anger he couldn't wait to unleash on me. I did what he said, lowering myself onto the itchy carpet and curling up behind the passenger's seat.

The waves crashed on the rocks, spitting water onto the window. Looking up, I watched the stars twinkle overhead and the clouds slowly crawl around the moon.

It was the first time I had been outside in two weeks. I wasn't sure why, but the moon seemed brighter, the air cleaner, and the sky—it was the ocean for the stars.

Staring into the night had never been more beautiful, so I let it embrace me, making a mental snapshot of the picture overhead.

Because I had no idea if I'd ever get the chance to see it again.

Pop!

Perching my head up, I angled my ear towards the window.What the hell was that?

“Stay down,” the man barked as he rustled the keys from his pocket and picked through them for the one he needed.

Tucking my head under my arms, I tried to make sense of the noise I heard. It could have been anything; a car backfiring, a firework.

Only it wasn't.

Pop!

A second shot rang out as the engine turned over and the man laid into the pedal. Grains of sand sprayed up, kicking back and pinging off the cars parked around us.

The car  pounced into motion, causing me to jerk forward and slam into the hard bottom of the seat. “Ahh!” I yelled, cradling my head in my hands to protect it.

“Stay down!” Screaming, I heard his hands whip around the wheel as the car took a hard right.

The motor revved high, each gear shifted into place with a violent grind. Peeking, I watched his eyes dart between the mirrors, watching all around us as we left the dark hotel in a heap of shadows.

He looks nervous, or maybe he's anxious.He didn't look like the other men I had seen at the auction. This man was on edge, frantically rubbing his forehead. His eyes were huge, gaping open, unable to blink.

Holding the wheel in one hand, he rummaged around in the center console and pulled out a small hand held radio. “This is Officer Bentley Roberts, I need officers to respond to Three seventy-seven Gordon Road. Shots have been fired! You hear me? Shots fired!”

Officer?

Shots fired?

Everything around me began to surge and expand. My chest heaved, my pores opened like trenches as sweat drenched my neck and face.

Gun shots—

Oh my God, is Machi okay?

Shooting up onto my knees, I yelled at the cop. “We have to go back! We need to go back! He might be hurt, we have to help him!”

“Get down!” Digging his fingers into my shoulder, he pushed me back beneath the seat. “My guys are on the way, they'll be there soon. There's no way in hell I'm bringing you back there.”

“But what if he's been shot? What if he needs me? I have to go help him!” Tears sprung to life as the severity of the situation set in.

Machi had been my captor. . . But he was also my freedom.

If he had risked everything to get me out, if they knew who Bentley was, they'd kill Machi in a fucking second.

“Please!” I yelled, reaching for his arm. “Take me back!”

“No!”

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