Page 45 of Do Not Open

Itoss the bracelet back into my purse as quickly as humanly possible and begin returning the panel. As soon as it clicks into place, I shove the carpet back where it goes and try to slow my rapid breathing. Hoping I managed to get everything in order, I lie completely still, listening. I try to determine what’s happening. The trunk of the car fills with only the sounds of my breathing as I wait. I’m suddenly claustrophobic again.

He shuts off the car, and the door slams shut. I hold my breath, curling myself into a ball. Are we at a gas station? Could I call for help?

Perhaps he’s brought me to the place where he’s going to kill me.

Perhaps he’s brought me to yet another new home.

As I hear him approaching the trunk, I know I’m too late. Part of me hopes my message went unreceived. If Kassara knows she had a chance to save me and didn’t make it in time, I hate to think of the guilt she’ll carry.

The trunk opens, and he stares down at me with a look that can only be described as disgust. He hates me, yet he loves me.

He wants to kill me for not writing yet wants me to live well and write forever because he’s my number-one fan.

“Where are we?” I ask, sitting up.

“Had to pull over and take a leak.” He adjusts himself through his pants in front of me, casting a look over his shoulder. “You doing okay back here?”

He’s so odd, the way he truly seems to care sometimes. His eyes search the trunk.

“I’ve been better.”

He grimaces at my dry tone. Then, for the first time, I notice the logo on his shirt. It’s not the same as the uniform from the fast-food restaurant I saw hanging in his closet earlier.What the…

What are the odds?

“You work for Speak Stream?” My blood suddenly turns to ice. “I thought you said you were a teacher?”

“Used to be,” he mumbles, looking away. He goes to shut the trunk, but I refuse to lie back down.

“Why didn’t you tell me you work for my audiobook publisher?” I demand.

“Wasn’t relevant.”

If Kassara got my messages, will she realize she knows him? That she works with him? Will she put it all together?

“How did you hack Owen Doyle’s email, Chris?”

He gives a lopsided grin, one corner upturned. “I didn’t. Just had to get it close enough you might not notice it was one letter off.”

I swallow. If I’d never opened that email, if I’d trusted my gut in thinking it was too good to be true, I wouldn’t be here. That’s the cold, hard truth. Curiosity killed the cat, and in the end, it’s what will have killed me, too.

“Where are you taking me? What’s your plan?”

“We’re leaving the state,” he says, not bothering to explain more. “We just have to make a pit stop first.” He raises a hand again to close the trunk. “Now, lie down. We gotta get moving.”

I lie back and allow him to close me into the darkness again. A few moments later, I hear a steady stream of urine hit the ground. My upper lip curls with disgust. Then, he’s back in the car, and we’re on the move.

If he takes me out of state, my chances of being found are even slimmer. Whatever I’m going to do, it has to be now.

I could try to push forward and break out through the back seat, but then I risk him locking me in. Since I can’t find a way to knock out the taillights, I need to get creative.

Luckily for me, that used to be what I did every day. It’s what I’m best at.

Thinking quickly, I reach for the carpet and pull it back, prying off the panel again and looking inside. I grab hold of the wires I felt behind the taillight earlier and give them a sharp jerk. They rip free easily, and the light goes out in an instant. Without their wires, I’ve rendered the light useless, and I can only hope it will mean we’ll get pulled over. As soon as we do, I’ll bang on the trunk and beg and scream for my freedom. I switch sides, locating and pulling back that fabric as well, then repeating my actions from before.

With both taillights out, it’s only a matter of time. Now I just have to wait for a police officer to find us.

I lie back down, closing my eyes and listening to the sounds of the road. I’ve become accustomed to them in my short time here. A few minutes later, I realize I don’t hear the crunching of gravel anymore. We must be on a highway now.

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