Page 65 of Stolen Omega

I smack my hands against the lid until my palms sting and tears are streaming down my cheeks.

I push harder, putting more weight behind every strike.

It doesn’t work. The lid doesn’t suddenly open.

Wearing myself out is all that happens.

My hands feel kind of numb when I stop, and my whole body is trembling.

I don’t know where that memory came from, but I know it was real.

That night. That man. The frozen in terror response.

All of that happened.

I don’t know how that’s possible.

How could I ever forget something so awful?

My stomach churns a little harder.

I don’t know what happened next.

I play the memory over again, and all it gives me are questions.

The house they took me from was my home, but it wasn’t where I’ve lived my whole life.

It was a much smaller house, on a street in a suburban area. I can see that house clearly in my mind.

I can see my bedroom as if it wasn’t too dark to make out much in the memory.

The details are there. My mind has filled in every blank spot.

I even remember I was hugging a pink and purple unicorn, my favorite stuffed toy.

Ryder. That’s what I called him. He was cute and fluffy, and I was waiting patiently for the day he’d turn into a real unicorn. I was convinced that was going to happen, but I expected it wouldn’t be until I was older.

He was special to me. I never wanted to lose him.

Yet, that’s the only memory I have with him in it.

It must mean something.

I remembered that night for a reason.

I hope the reason comes back to me before I need it.

I get the feeling I’m going to need all the help I can get.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Dale

Exhausting every other option was what led us to this, and now that I’m sitting in the passenger seat of the van and Zane is being his usual quietly moody self, I’m starting to regret the lack of backbone that got me to this point. He hasn’t changed one little bit, and my plan to make him see sense isn’t going to get a chance to work if he won’t stop the damn van and let our captive out.

“I’m seriously regretting stopping to pick you up,” I tell him.

He snorts, like he thinks I’m joking.

---