He continues to talk but his words drift over me, not making it through. His voice is charming and seductive. I’m sure all the girls fall all over him when he’s not kidnapping them. At one point in time, I might have thought he was cute, but the gleam in his eyes and the coldness behind his mannerisms would never have pulled me in. My dad raised me better than that—to see past good looks to the heart of a person.
The drive is fast. Dread pools in my stomach with every turn. My sense of where we’re heading gets confused, and the feeling spreads. Tears quiver on my eyelashes and slide past the blindfold. I don’t want them to, but it’s a physical reaction to what happened, to the fact that I should’ve minded my own business.
The Camaro slows down, the engine gunning down, then stops. I take several deep breaths. The door opens silently, cold air wafting past.
“You’ve been such a good girl,” Kingston comments. “Despite what you may think, I don’t make it a habit of taking girls from bars. That’s not really my thing.” He sighs as he grips my arm and pulls me from the car. “Your boy back at the bar stuck his nose where it doesn’t belong too many times.”
His words confirm my worst fear. That I’m a warning, a lesson for Chad. The metal cuffs dig into my wrists. I could try and kick him and run away, but I wouldn’t get far. I can’t see anything and these cuffs aren’t coming off anytime soon.
All I have are the smells and touch to let me know what’s going on. The grass scratches my ankles as he leads me away from his car. The sound of my heels clicking on the cement steps. The warm draft of air from inside feels like my prison sentence, and the last few breaths of cool night air I take feel like my last.
I trip on more steps. This time they feel soft under my feet, possibly carpeted, meaning we’re heading upstairs. The lingering scent of lemon cleaner hangs in the air. For some reason this is a comfort to me. I don’t picture the den of a drug dealer being cleaned on a regular basis, so maybe I’m back at his house. Just this gives me some hope.
His loosening grip on my arm tells me he feels more relaxed, like he’s almost home free. I try not to wrinkle my nose at the smell of dirty socks. It smells like any guy’s room.
He pushes me against the wall. “Don’t move.”
I don’t even think about trying to run, not right now. The blindfold is proving to be very effective. He grunts as the grinding of something tells me he’s moving heavy furniture. I’ve seen too many movies not to know that means a secret room. The musty smell that causes my chest to constrict tells me I’m right.
My pounding heart rockets. The continuing darkness disorients and the haze of fear surrounding me makes it hard to even process what’s happening. I keep sucking in air but can’t get enough no matter how hard I try. A soft whimper sounds and I realize it’s me.
“Be a good girl.” He traces my cheek with his knuckles. “I’m sorry we didn’t meet under better circumstances.”
With one whoosh, the blindfold is off my head. Kingston flashes me his cocky grin, and the gleam in his eye sends a shiver through me before he pushes me into the darkness. Just before the door creaks shut, I catch the stacks of boxes. One is open, filled with bags of white powder. Seconds later, complete darkness engulfs me.
The silence is deafening even though Kingston is right on the other side of the wall. I tried to play the bad girl to spy on my boyfriend. I followed Chad for answers, but this is much more than I wanted. Chad didn’t have a clue Justine and I were following him earlier as he drove around the town, stopped outside a mansion, and then followed the guy in the Camaro.
That surprised me.
And then Chad followed the guy to The Salty Dog. My curiosity wouldn’t be satisfied with just knowing he was following someone. Even though I knew it was stupid to follow Chad into the bar, I did.
I slide over to the wall and try to find a comfortable spot. It’s near impossible when hard wood digs into my back. Thoughts of Chad invade my fears and regrets, all that I’ve grown to love about him, especially the teasing look in his eye when he takes me out for some new experience. He never knew I noticed the complete thrill he experienced when we were together. If his extracurricular activities are any kind of example of his life, then maybe the thrill he felt was a result of having fun and living a more innocent carefree life.
In the quiet and darkness I can’t pretend. I know why he pushed me off him that night. I know why he mysteriously disappeared from dates or showed up late. And now I know what kind of work he was doing for his dad. The dangerous kind. And I walked right into the middle of it.