Page 21 of Flight Risk

It’s such an obvious, ridiculous lie that another wave of giggles bubbles up. “Stop. Iknowit’s you. From the street last year. I ran into you, and you wouldn’t mug me.”

Another glance back at me in the mirror, and he rolls his eyes. “It was never the plan to mug you.”

“You were going tokidnapme? And, what, I guilted you out of it by being cute?”

He exhales, and it sounds like disagreement. The kind of disagreement where a man thinks more words apply thancute.I’ve heard it a few times at The Membership. Nobody’s ever pushed me, though. It’s against the rules for audience members to proposition dancers.

“Kidnapping you wasn’t the plan, either.”

I laugh again. The glacial terror, like falling through a winter wind, that I felt when he pushed me into the car is dissolving. It shouldn’t be. He kidnapped me from a parking lot. But the man from the street didn’t strike me as dangerous.

He struck me as hot.

Hot, and bemused, and a guy out for a walk. Above all, hedidn’t mug me.He watched me go around the corner. He didn’t go after me, even after I shouted at him one last time. Dedicating all my time to school and then college hasn’t made me an expert in men, but I got zero bad vibes.

It could be me. I could be the real problem here. If I’mthatbad at understanding what men are about, then I shouldn’t ever be alone.

Too late now.

“Is this, like, some kind of date? A joke date?”

“No.”

He says it in a very sincere, non-kidnapper way. Is he trying to be funny? If so, it’s kind of working.

“I have to tell you, this is a horrible way to ask someone out.”

“I’m not asking you out.”

In a literal sense, no. He didn’t ask me anything. He covered my mouth with his hand and swept me off my feet and into the back of his SUV. Now we’re driving on the highway, headed toward an unknown destination. The possibilities are endless. Hecouldtake me somewhere fun in a hilarious escalation of the first time we met. Talk about a free spirit.

“Actually, I think you are. You thought I was hot before.”

More raised eyebrows in the rearview. “You thoughtIwas hot.”

“Oh? So you’re saying you haven’t thought about me since then?” The beat of silence after my questionisthe answer. “So youhavethought about me. Oh, my God. You could havelooked me up.Gotten my number.Texted.”

There’s a soft, bright noise from the passenger seat, and for a few seconds I’m sure it can’t be possible. It’s a weird thing for my mind to insert into the situation, but then again, this isallweird.

It’s even stranger to ask, but I push through. “Is there a bird in here?”

“Yes.”

Justyes. Yes, as if it’s normal for kidnappers to be driving around with birds in their SUVs. As if it’s normal foranyoneto be hanging out with a bird.

“Why do you have a bird in here?”

“None of your business.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be weird about the bird. It’s, like, the least weird thing about this whole surprise date.”

“It’s not a fucking date,” he snaps, and the energy in the SUV changes. It’s so abrupt that my heart gives a startledpound. As if we’d crashed into something and the impact stopped everything. All my thoughts. My breath.

Oh, God, shit. I was being so ridiculous before. Sosilly. So naïve.

I got kidnapped from a parking lot, and I went into shock. All I want is for this tonot be a nightmare,but…

It is.

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