Seconds to Live(26)
Chapter Eleven
The smell of rubber—and the balled up piece of cloth he’d shoved into her mouth—gagged her. Pain roared through her neck, hot and sharp, blotting out the minor aches in the rest of her body and the sting of the glass cuts on her hands and feet. Not even the adrenaline of terror could dull its force.
Running away had been a very bad idea.
With her hands bound behind her back, Dena curled on her side in the trunk of a car, her shoulder pressed into the thin carpet that covered the spare tire well. She breathed through her nose, the thin fabric of the hood he’d fastened around her neck flattening against her face. It was soft and smelled of fabric softener. A pillowcase?
The trunk was hot, nearly suffocating, but a full-body shiver quaked her bones. She breathed through a wave of terror, but fear seized her by the lungs. Despair cut off her next breath. Lightheaded, her mind spun.
Why?
The car lurched, and Dena bounced. The delicate skin of her breast rubbed as her body slid on the scratchy carpet. The sudden movement jarred her out of her paralysis. Her lungs expelled stale air in a whoosh, and she gasped around her gag to refill them. Tears leaked from her eyes and ran hot over her skin.
She couldn’t give up. But fighting wasn’t an option; she was trussed like a suckling pig. She had to survive. Bide her time. Wait for an opportunity.
An opportunity to do what? Escape again? She was naked, blindfolded, gagged, and bound in the trunk of a car. How the hell could she possibly save herself?
He couldn’t keep her in here forever. Eventually, he’d need to stop. Of course, he’d be more careful this time. She’d lost the element of surprise when she’d leaped from the trunk at a stop sign. He’d removed the trunk release lever, but she’d had a lucky find of the cable. Unfortunately, she’d been in the middle of nowhere and hadn’t been fast or clever enough to get away. But running barefoot through the woods in the driving rain for hours had been hopeless. With clothes and boots and a flashlight, he’d tracked her down like an animal.
Like prey.
Surely, after all he’d gone through to kidnap and keep her, he wouldn’t just kill her quickly. He must have a plan. She’d have time.
Please, let there be time.
Irony nearly made her giddy. Laughter that bordered on insanity stirred in her chest.
She should have left last week. She’d been planning for months, hiding money, researching bus and train schedules, recruiting a trusted friend to help her disappear, friends Adam didn’t even know existed. But she’d waited too long. If she had left when she’d originally planned, she’d be in the Keys by now, sipping a margarita and digging her toes into the sand.
Alone. Free. At peace.
Now she would never be free.
The trunk opened, and through the thin fabric over her eyes, she saw a shadow lean over her. She recoiled, instinct driving her to squirm as far away as possible. But the space didn’t allow for much movement. Her bare back hit the carpeted rear of the trunk.
His hands closed around her arms. He pulled her forward and scooped her under her knees and back. Grunting, he hoisted her over the lip of the trunk and dropped her into a container of some kind. The skin of her side and arm hit wet, cold metal. The pain in her neck exploded. Her vision dimmed and her body went limp. Her legs dangled over the side, the rim digging into the back of her knees. A wheel squeaked as she lurched into motion.
A wheelbarrow?
They stopped. A door opened and closed. She jolted as they moved forward again. Terror drove her heart to pound faster, as if she were still running away. As if she still had a chance.
Where was she?
She strained to hear anything above the slamming echo of her own pulse. Her fear and pain were deafening.
She held her breath for a few seconds, then forced her lungs to expand slowly, drawing air deep into her belly. If she meditated long enough, she could make her muscles relax and chase the pain into a corner. But there was no relaxing in the face of her current situation.
The wheelbarrow squeaked onward, tipping forward as if descending a ramp. They went down and down, seemingly into the bowels of the Earth.
Another door opened. Rough hands lifted her from the wheelbarrow and deposited her on what felt like cold tile. Fingers at her throat loosened the tie, and he yanked the pillowcase hood from her head.
An overhead light blinded her.
A quiet voice sent fresh horror sliding through her veins. “We’ve been over this before, but I’ll repeat myself. If you resist, I will hurt you. As you know, I am a man who keeps my word.”
He stared at the woman on the tile. Her naked body was covered in mud, bits of wet grass, and dead leaves. Tears ran in clean streaks down her filthy face. Mucus leaked from her nose.