Blind Date(64)

I do as he says, kicking the bag across the room. He reaches down, emptying the contents on the ground. He flicks through my things, and then looks up at me. I might not be able to see his eyes, but he terrifies me. He's dressed all in black, from head to toe, not an inch of skin to be seen. Black gloves over his fingers, black boots over his feet, and black clothing covers his body. The mask he's wearing is low enough to touch the top of his shirt.

All black.

That's all I can see.

"Where's your cell phone?" he demands.

No.

Dammit.

No.

I reach into my pocket with shaky fingers and pull it out, wishing I had Ace on speed dial, or I thought to try and send a text, something. If he takes this phone, it's all over. There will be no way Ace will know I'm gone. He thinks I'm safe at Taylor's. He steps forward and snatches the phone from my hand, unlocking it then doing something-his gloved fingers press at the screen, but he can't seem to achieve whatever it is he's trying to do.


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He walks closer to me. "Send the cop a message. Tell him you're safe."

No.

"And if you send anything else, I'll kill her."

Taylor looks at me, and she's terrified. Her eyes are wide and bloodshot, her body is trembling, and her mouth is agape and frightened. I will not let him hurt her. So I do as he says.

H: I'm at Taylor's. I'm safe. Have a good night.

I turn the screen to him, and he nods sharply. I press SEND and he snatches the phone from my hand, turning it off and shoving it into his pocket. I study him, trying to figure out if I know him from the way he moves, the way he acts, but I can't pick up anything familiar. He's tall, but with those clothes on, it's hard to know much more. They're almost bulky in their appearance, making it hard to fully see his build. All I know for certain is that this man is the killer, and he was clever enough to get hold of me using my best friend.

I can't let him hurt Taylor.

I have to figure out a way to get us both out of here.





TWENTY-TWO


I blink awake and, for a moment, I'm dazed and confused. I don't remember being knocked out, or falling asleep, but by the bouncing around I can feel, I know I've been out for a while. We're in a car, or a truck, maybe a van. I go to reach up and rub my eyes, but my hands are cuffed in front of me. Panic sets in as I remember the man who was at Taylor's house.

Taylor.

I jerk my head to the left, and then to the right. We're in a van, that much is obvious due to the size of the back and the white walls. Taylor is to my right, hands cuffed in front of her, too, her eyes wide and alarmed, focused on me. How did she get roped into this? I was praying he would let her go, but he hasn't. He hasn't and now she's here. We're here, together.

"Are you okay?" I whisper, my eyes going to the front of the car where the man in black is driving.

There is a massive screen sectioning us from him, and by the looks of it, it wouldn't smash easily. Outside of that, there is nothing else in the back of the van except Taylor and me, and the blanket we've been placed down on. The back doors are padlocked together, to ensure we can't jump out. Our hands and feet are cuffed. We're stuck.

"I'm scared, Hartley," she whispers.

My chest twists, and my whole body prickles. Yes, I'm afraid too. I feel the same fear coursing through my body. "Me too. We're going to get out of here, though. There are two of us, and only one of him. We'll figure it out."

Do I even believe the words coming out of my mouth?

This feels like a dream. Almost like it can't be happening, and we'll wake up any moment. 

Only I know we won't.

"I d-d-didn't want to text you," she squeaks. "I didn't, but he made me. I was so afraid. He just showed up at my door and demanded I contact you and get you over to my house. It worked. He made me stand by the window and wave when you arrived, so the police officer wouldn't be concerned."

A genius plan, really.

"How did he get us out of the apartment?" I wonder out loud.

"Through an emergency exit. I was still awake. He drugged you. I had to lead him out while he carried you. He told me if I made even a sound, he'd shoot you right in front of me." She hiccups. "He had a van parked in the alley."

Fuck.

The tricky bastard.

"Do you know who he is?" I ask her.

She shakes her head. "No, I can't tell anything, he's so covered up. I did figure something out, though, when he was mumbling to himself."

I nod, encouraging her. "What?"

"He was saying something about how he would break you. I didn't know what he was talking about, but he kept mumbling something about Raymond, and how it wasn't working because of that stupid ‘cop' and how he was going to use me to do the job."