Page 53 of Stolen Omega

Concentrating on my breathing, I work to settle my nervous, excited energy.

I feel it when I’m lifted into the van, and I hear it when the box is strapped into place.

Twenty minutes until the hotel. Twenty minutes until I get to see Russ again.

Usually, that time flies by, but today everything is so different.

The ride gets kind of bumpy, and I start to wonder if the driver had to take a detour.

I take my phone out of my pocket and switch it on, deciding to start timing the drive.

It could take longer than usual for any number of reasons, but the more time we spend on the uneven road, the more convinced I am that we must be going the wrong way.

The time flashes up on my phone. Twenty after eleven. I have no idea what time I was loaded into the van, but I’m usually in the hotel before now.

The detour is definitely dragging this journey out.

A message comes through my phone, and I see I’ve been sent a text from Castle, who always rides up front with the driver.

Road closed. It’s gonna take twice as long.

Seeing that message eases my mind.

Relaxing back in the seat, I tell myself the bumpy ride will be over soon.

I look at the number in my phone for Russ, thinking about texting him and feeling seriously awkward. Castle will have already told him about the delay, and I’ll be seeing him soon.

I don’t know what the hell to say anyway. It’s been a lifetime since I sent a text to a boy, and this is so much more serious than a high school crush.

The secret element of our relationship doesn’t help. I’m slightly paranoid my mom might have a way to read my texts remotely. If there’s a way to do that, and I’m sure there is, she’ll know about it.

Yeah, I should keep Russ’ number for emergency situations only.

This is an inconvenience rather than a problem. I can wait it out.

Messing around on my phone, I play a few games to pass the time and keep my mind distracted.

Ten more minutes pass. The road evens out. Twenty minutes later, we’ve slowed down a few times but we’re still moving. Thankfully, on smoother roads. Thirty minutes and I feel like we should already be at the hotel. It’s closing in on forty minutes when the engine stops.

Thank God.

The way the container’s designed, there’s no way for me to run out of air, but I’m really starting to feel the need to stretch my arms and legs. I wait to hear the straps being released, ready to crack open the lid when they do. I know the van stops in the hotel parking lot. I can have a quick stretch before my security team lift the box to carry me into the hotel.

A couple minutes go by, and I’m still inside the back of the van, waiting with my hand on the release catch on the lid. A few more minutes pass, and I start to text Castle back, asking what’s going on.

The message doesn’t send. Suddenly, there’s no signal.

Shit. That’s really fucking weird.

I push at the catch on the lid, but it won’t budge under the straps.

They’re pulled too tight to let the top of the box move.

I use both hands, pushing with all my strength if an effort to loosen the straps.

Nothing happens. The lid stays closed.

The straps are too tight, too strong.

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