Dad jerks away. His face softens, almost with a look of regret, but then the mask falls back into place, the hard lines and cynical expression. “You’re officially fired from the internship.”
“I don’t care about me. But please, if you ever loved me, if you ever cared, please find Katie. She doesn’t deserve this.”
My father doesn’t respond but turns. His footsteps fade with each passing second. I stumble back and fall on the bed. Thoughts whirl. My father asked for my help. He gave me the address and blueprints for Kingston’s house. Did my dad suspect he was involved in drug running? He should be convincing the police to search the house. His work must take precedence so he won’t contaminate the case and admit his part in it.
The rest of the night passes. Every second a moment in hell. Every second I pray, desperately hope that Katie’s still alive. That someone up there heard me even though I don’t deserve it.
Chapter 10
Katie
My eyes adjust to the blackness of the storage room. The shadowy shapes of the boxes spark questions I can’t answer. The unknown hovers in the room. I count the time by the drops of sweat trickling down my back. One. Two. Three…ninety-eight…two hundred. Time passes slowly. Every few seconds is a lifetime yet at the same time passes much too quickly, because eventually, the door is going to open. And as much as I want to leave this place, I fear what’s next.
A dull thump sounds on the other side of the door, a slight shuffling as if someone’s on the other side, deciding my fate. My chest squeezes, my lungs constricting. The air around me is thick and hard to breathe. I force the deep breaths in and out, resting on one tiny hope.
Chad. He’d never give up without trying to find me. And if no one listens to him, then there’s Justine. She knows I left with this guy. She saw me. She knows I didn’t want to dance with him. She must’ve seen Chad leave.
“Please,” I whisper. Let Justine put it all together and contact the cops. Tell them what she saw. Maybe with their combined stories, the cops will do something. Someone must know who this guy is and where he lives. I keep this hope alive for a while, but as my legs cramp and my neck stiffens, the fear seeps into my thoughts and hope slowly drains.
More time passes. I drift off, too exhausted to stay awake. A creak jars me awake. The door opens. A blinding light shines on me. A silhouette peers in and I can’t tell who it is.
“Help!” I croak, hoping, praying.
“Shut up,” he snarls. “Time to move. He throws me the blindfold. “Put this on.”
The blindfold, the same one I wore earlier, lies across my feet. My hands are cuffed, or has he forgotten? I don’t dare point that out.
“Shit. Climb out.”
I wiggle over, struggling to find my footing. His hand, rough on my arm, pulls me the rest of the way out. I see that it’s not a real room, but a hidden storage space in the back of his closet. He leaves the blindfold and waves a gun toward the door. “Move.”
Two large guys stand at the door, weapons attached to their sides. Their eyes hold that blank, unmoving expression of someone who follows orders and never makes a decision based on compassion or right and wrong.
“Fast!” His voice sounds different, a little higher-pitched. Maybe panic?
The goons push me down a hallway and the stairs. They use the butt of their guns in my back. I’m sure to send me a message—that they won’t hesitate to use it. I stumble outside, my legs weak and shaky. The rays of sun hit my face, the warmth spreading through me. The leaves tremble in the trees as the breeze whips through. It should be like any other day. I should be at the Inn or walking along the boardwalk.
A white van sits in the driveway. I get the feeling that if I step into it and let it drive away, then my life will be over.
Sirens sound in the distance. Maybe they’re coming for me. I need time. Just a few seconds could mean my life. Without thinking anything through, I stick my foot between the guard’s legs in front of me. With a grunt, he falls forward into Kingston. Like a domino effect, they crash to the dewy grass. I receive a smack in the head from the guard behind me.
The sirens sound closer, just miles away.
Kingston gets right in my face, his eyes narrowed and a vein pulsing at his temple. “What’re you thinking, bitch? You don’t want to get on my bad side with stunts like that.” He barks orders at his guards, pointing toward the house. “Quick. Get the boxes. I’ll take care of the girl.”
He jerks me toward the back of the van. With a click, the door swings open, revealing an empty back with tarps lining the floor.
“You could just leave me here.” I try to hide the rising panic. “I don’t know where you’re going or where you’ll be. I couldn’t tell the cops any information that will hurt you or help them find you.”