I flinch. I’ve been going as Emilia Lennox for so long, I almost forgot what the name on my birth certificate says.
Almost.
“We need you to come with us.” The man’s voice is as empty as his stare. “Immediately.”
I try to speak, but I can’t get more than a squeak of air past my numb lips.
“Not a fucking chance,” Owen growls on my behalf, pressing me tighter against the brick. His back muscles flex with tension. “She’s not going anywhere with you.”
The suit places a hand on his holster — a clear threat. When he speaks again, his words are punctuated by tiny droplets of spittle as he enunciates with lethal clarity.
“Last warning.Step. Away. From. The. Girl.”
Owen doesn’t shift a single inch. “Go. Fuck. Yourself.”
The man moves so fast, he’s practically a blur. I don’t see him pull the gun from his holster, but I do hear the awful thud it makes as it cracks down against Owen’s head with enough force to send him staggering off balance. A scream tears out of my throat as I watch my best friend crumple to the cobblestone, his hands pressed over the gaping wound on his temple. Blood flows quickly between his fingers, spattering the stones like red rain.
“Owen!”
Two suits step over him like a piece of rubbish and advance on me. Their companions look on impassively as iron-clad hands clamp over my biceps. I try to keep my eyes on Owen, try to thrash out of their steely grip as they haul me into the glaring headlight beams like a bug toward a zapper-trap, but it’s no use. They’re too strong.
Within seconds, I’m manhandled into the backseat, my head shoved down to avoid banging the roof like a criminal being loaded into a cop car. The last thing I hear before the door slams shut behind me is Owen’s voice, clogged with pain and panic, ringing out into the night.
“Emilia!”
* * *
Owen’s screamechoes in my ears long after we jolt off the sidewalk and race down the street, the engine screaming like a caged creature beneath the hood. I’m alone in the backseat. I can’t see much of anything with the partition up, closing me off from the suits in the front.
Attempting not to panic —oh, who the fuck am I kidding, I’m totally panicking— I try the door handles, but they’re locked tight. Likewise for the dark-tinted windows. I look around for my purse and my cellphone… before realizing I left them sitting on a barstool in Hennessy’s, where they’re of absolutely no use to me.
Perfect.
My search beneath the seats turns up empty as well. No convenient tire irons left out for me to use as a weapon, no pointy objects I can jam into a bad guy’s eyes given the opportunity. I’m officially on my own.
I press my forehead up against the glass, trying to see outward, but there’s only darkness as we hurtle through the night to destinations unknown.
“Let me out of here!” I scream, banging my fists against the partition. “Are you insane?! This is kidnapping!”
There’s no response from the other side of the wall.
“I’ll call the police!”
I cease banging to listen, but there’s nothing. Not even the faintest indication they’ve heard me. The car turns with a sharp screech of tires, and I go flying across the leather seats. My elbow smacks into the glass window with enough force to leave a mark. Blinking tears from my eyes, I rub my funny bone and make myself fasten my seatbelt.
No point in dying before they have a chance to murder me.
We drive for about twenty minutes before I feel the brakes engage. When the engine shuts off, I un-click my belt and go perfectly still, waiting for the moment my door will open, waiting for them to drag me out of the SUV to… to…
Well, frankly, I have no ideawherethey’re dragging me, but I can only assume it’s not somewhere I’d normally choose to spend my Friday night.
A minute passes in silence.
Then another.
My bare knees bounce up and down with nervous energy as I wait.
And wait.