by Linda Palmer
"Now I'm going to do you a great big favor and leave. Goodbye, Cassidy! It was... interesting."
"But—"
"I'm shutting the door now."
"But—"
"Move!"
I did. He slammed the door. In seconds, all I saw of him were taillights and that was the end of that.
Chapter Two
Walking back into that restaurant alone had to be the most humiliating thing I'd ever done in my whole life. I did my best to act as if everything was okay. I went straight to my booth; I finished my dinner and boxed up the leftovers; I paid for the meal with Brody's twenty. Waving gaily to my former classmates, I left the place and headed to the four rooms that were my new home.
Thanks to Dad's inheritance, inspired investments, and high-profile jobs, my parents and I lived on the affluent side of town, which meant gated property, security systems, a swimming pool, and Iris, who had pretty much raised me when she lived in. Worried that wealth kept the boys away—Brody confirmed my suspicions—I'd done what I could to remove myself from it. I’d even made Iris, who only worked days now, promise to let me grow up.
Tonight I wanted nothing more than a hot bath and a warm bed, where I planned to curl up and lick my wounds. Brody's resistance to my womanly charms had been devastating.
Resistance?
He'd kissed me, hadn't he? And what a kiss. He couldn't be that resistant.
I tried to think of reasons he might've done it. Several came to mind: my blatant attraction to him, my obvious naivety, the wet shirts clinging to boobs that did not need pumping up.
Oh, how I wished I'd kept my distance. I mean, what was I thinking?
How should I act tomorrow night, when we faced each other in class once again?
As it turned out, he never showed up Tuesday night. I wanted to die. I'd as good as thrown myself at the boy, ultimately making it too uncomfortable for him to come to class, and now he'd dropped out.
Crap.
Desperate to repair the situation, I did something I'd never have done under other circumstances. I waited until Jean Potter left the room at break time, when I brazenly went through her briefcase in search of personal information on Brody. Spotting his name on a card, I snatched it up and stuck it under my shirt. Just as I closed the case, which Jean had left on her desk, she walked back into the room. I pretended to be looking for a Kleenex. With a suspicious frown, she handed me the box that was in plain view. I grabbed a couple and got the heck out of there as if I had to blow my nose really badly or something.
I didn't go back. Instead, I went straight to my car, where I left the door ajar for the overhead light and read what Brody had written out. Name: Brody Ray Anderson. Age: 19, with a birthday in a matter of days. Address: 1210 W Maple St., Apt. 2B, Wolf-Run, Arizona.
I had no idea where Maple Street was, but my GPS knew. I drove straight to the poor side of town and parked in front of a shabby three-story house divided into apartments. I saw a sagging porch that needed paint, frayed lawn chairs, and a fake fern. The front door was locked, and there was no intercom. Clueless about what to do next, I turned to leave and almost ran into a guy with a six pack of beer in one hand and a ring of keys in the other, just coming up the steps. As he shoved past me, he staggered. I automatically stepped back, but still caught a whiff of his alcohol breath. Was he drunk? Maybe, enough to let me in. It was worth a try.
"Does Brody Anderson live here?"
"Huh?"
"I'm looking for Brody Anderson. Do you know him?"
"Second floor, first door on the right." He couldn't seem to get his key in the lock.
"Let me do that for you," I said. Barely glancing at me, he handed it over. I unlocked the door, assisted him inside, and gave him the keys. Instead of leaving, as I should have, I waited while he tottered toward the back of the house. That's when I darted up the stairs to the second landing. I quickly found Brody's apartment and banged on the door.
It opened a second later. He did a double take when he saw me. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I brought your change from Pizza Pizazz."
"Keep it." He tried to shut the door. My foot stopped him.
"You need to go to class tomorrow night. I promise I won't be there."
Brody just looked at me.
"I mean it," I told him. "You've got to get that GED."
"You're not volunteering anymore?"
I shook my head. "I'm really sorry I embarrassed you, okay? I'm not usually so pushy."
"You didn't embarrass me." Brody stuck his head out the door and looked up and down the hall. “Were you followed here?”
What a question. “Um…no?”
“So you didn’t see anyone outside?”
“Just some drunk guy with a key. That’s how I got in.”
Brody didn’t say anything else for several seconds. He finally motioned with his head for me to step into the apartment, which I did. After another quick peek into the hall, he shut the door behind me.
I realized his living quarters consisted of a bedroom and closet, which meant his bathroom and kitchen were shared with other renters. The place looked clean enough, if totally impersonal. I suspected that the apartment came furnished, which meant he probably didn't own the twin bed, the TV, the microwave sitting on a side table, or even the fan in the open window. I spotted last night's jeans and tee thrown over the only chair in the room and noted that he wore nothing but a pair of grey gym shorts that hung a little low on his waist and revealed the elastic waistband of his underwear. When he scooped his clothes out of the chair and pointed to it, I saw he had a tattoo of a wolf inside a full moon just over his heart. Gulping, I dragged my gaze from his pecs and took a seat.
"Sorry I was so rude last night." He looked a little distracted as he pulled on last night's T-shirt and sat on the edge of his bed right in front of me. "I shouldn't have kissed you."
"I liked it. You can even do it again if you want." That got his full attention. “No way!”
"Was it gross?"
He frowned. "Gross?"
"Gorilla breath, chapped lips, too much tongue..."
"You thought I didn't like it—? Shit, Cassidy." Before I could react, he stood and yanked me up into his arms. Our second kiss was way better than the first one, and by the time we came up for breath, he sat on the bed again with me straddling his lap.
Brody quickly set me back on my feet. "You really need to go before we do something you'll regret."
Did that mean he wouldn't?
"Now would be good."
I nodded.
"Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like I'm the best present you ever got, when I'm really your worst nightmare."
"Then why can't I get you out of my head?"
Brody groaned and hid his face in his hands. "This is bad. This is so freakin' bad."
I sat next to him on the bed and lay an arm across his shoulders in a hug meant to be comforting. "What's bad?"
"You. Me. Us."
"There's an us?" My question came out as a hopeful squeak. He didn’t answer it. "She said this would happen. She said it, and I didn’t believe her. But I didn't believe in anything back then..."
"What are you talking about?"
Brody looked at me as if greater problems than some silly girl with a crush weighed him down.
"Nothing. " He stood and pulled me to my feet again before firmly nudging me toward the door, which he opened. After checking out the hall, he gave me another push. "Bye." I just looked at him.
"I mean it. Leave. Go. Adios forever."
Tears came from nowhere and filled my eyes.
Brody saw them and winced, but stood firm. “And watch your back, okay?”
“Are you telling me I'm in some kind of danger?"
"Maybe. I don't know. I hope not."
"Are you in trouble?"
He didn't answer.
"Maybe I can help. Who’s after you?”
�
��If only it were a who…” He shut the door in my face. I pounded on it. "Brody? Brody!"
He ignored me. Somehow, I found the strength to make it down the hall and the stairs. But every step toward the first floor tore a piece from heart, so by the time I got to the front door I felt empty inside—empty and emotionally drained. I barely made it to my car before I broke down. I bawled like a baby the whole way home. Why, I wasn't sure. It's not like my steady had broken up with me. I barely knew Brody even if I loved him a little.
Or was it already a lot?
It's not a lot. It's not even a little. You don't know him. I sighed. I was such a girl sometimes, and not in a good way.
To cheer myself up as I drove home, I made an uncharacteristic call to Mom to see how things were going in Washington. We talked just long enough for her to ask if I'd ever picked up her cocktail dress from the dry cleaners. I next checked in with Max. The ding ching-a-lings in the background told me he'd found a casino. I wished him luck; he wished me a good night. I didn't bother trying to reach Dad.
On impulse, I detoured to the gas station, where I took my time selecting assorted chocolate bars. The rest of the way home, I ate one and worried about Brody, which was probably why I didn't notice that everything wasn't as it should be at my place until I stepped inside.
The smell of new lumber and fresh paint instantly tickled my nose as usual, but the house lay in total darkness even though I'd left on the light. Dropping my purse and sack on the floor, I headed straight into the kitchen for a something to drink, but that light and the one in the fridge didn't work, either. Odd, I thought, since it wasn't storming tonight. I decided the cause must be a blown fuse, so groped my way to the electrical box, intending to flip a couple of switches. I never got there.
Two steps from my destination, someone huge lunged from the shadows and lifted me right off my feet. I yelped in surprise as he—it had to be a he—threw me over one shoulder like a sack of dog food and rushed out the back door. I fought, kicked, and yelled for help. Nothing worked, and no one came running. Who would in a guesthouse set on a wooded lot so far back from the street? Hot Arizona air blasted me as the guy stepped outside. I saw a big dark SUV and other men, all wearing Wolfman masks that made everything even more surreal. My captor tossed me into the back storage area. He quickly pulled my hands to the front so he could duct tape my wrists together. More tape secured my ankles.
My heart went berserk, pounding wildly in my chest. This was happening. This was real. I was going to die.
I screamed and screamed and screamed.
He backhanded me so hard my head flopped over to the side. "Shut up."
Still I couldn't.
Fingers twisted in my hair, yanking hard. "Shut up, bitch, or I'll tape that mouth of yours, too."
Whimpering, I clamped my lips together. The back hatch slammed down. I turned on my side and curled into a fetal position, my mind and body in total denial. The vehicle shifted from side to side as guys got into it. The engine roared to life. We inched forward and began gathering speed. I don't know how long we rode, but it was time enough for my brain to clear a little and my heart rate to slow. My captors rarely spoke, and when they did, they kept their voices so low I couldn't make out anything.
Who would do a thing like this to me? And why?
I instantly thought of Brody and his cryptic warnings, but tossed that idea aside as quickly as it came to mind. He might be scared of something, but whatever it was had nothing to do with me. We simply weren't that connected.
I next thought of Dad, who'd made a lot of enemies on his quest for social justice. Maybe someone wanted him to cease and desist interfering in some controversial something or other and intended to use me to make the point. Or maybe this was about money. Maybe they’d left a ransom note on the table or called my dad.
I wondered briefly if Dad had a bodyguard this time out. If his cause rated one, he didn't hesitate to hire the best. Well, maybe he should've gotten one for me, too. Or maybe my situation was all Mom's fault. She'd certainly made her share of enemies as a public defender fighting for equal rights and representing undesirables. Why, I couldn't count the times this or that classmate snarled at me because she'd made the headlines yet again. No wonder I hadn't fit in at school. Maybe college would be different.
Maybe, maybe, maybe...
I sort of zoned at some point, but snapped right out of it when the car came to a sudden stop. By the time we got where we were going, I needed to pee so badly I wasn't sure I could walk. A Wolfman raised the door and pulled me up by my arms. I scratched his hand with my fingernails. He let go with a curse, furiously hauling me out of the vehicle. Of course, I couldn't walk with my ankles bound, so went right to my knees on gravel. He hefted me onto his shoulder as the other guy had done earlier...or maybe it was the same one. Dangling over his backside, head down, I couldn't tell. I realized that masks weren't all these guys had in common. Everyone wore jeans and dark shirts, which made telling them apart impossible. This Wolfman climbed some stairs and stepped into an air conditioned building.
"In there," said another guy. I suddenly wanted to throw up, an urge that only intensified when I was tossed onto a bed. Wolfman cut the tape around my ankles and hands with a pocketknife. "Get what you need." He thrust a tote bag into my hands. "We're outta here in five."
The door shut. I looked wildly around the room and found a couple of doors. The first was a closet. The second was a bathroom. I quickly peed, a huge relief, before trying to figure out what Wolfman meant when he said to "get what you need." I instinctively grabbed up all the toiletries I found on the counter, including a toothbrush still in the wrapper and a new tube of toothpaste. I saw deodorant, shampoo, tampons, aspirin, even a comb, and swept everything including toilet paper into the huge tote bag he'd left on the bed. I added a washcloth, soap, and a towel before checking out a bureau in the bedroom. It was empty. As for the closet, I snatched up the blanket I found there, but it wouldn't stuff into the tote. I kept it anyway.
Thankful I'd worn jeans and my Nikes to class tonight, I sat on the edge of the bed with a minute or so to spare. I heard the doorknob turn. Someone stepped into the room. A Wolfman, of course. He motioned for me to get up and follow him down a hall, which I did on quaking legs.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked.
He didn't answer, but led me straight to a door, where he re-taped my wrists and slipped one of those thick satin sleeping masks over my eyes. He led me outside and down some steps. His boost put me into the SUV again—at least that's what I assumed—but in the back seat this time. We hit the road.
Not too long after, my ears went sort of funky, a sure sign of ascent. Since the closest mountain range of any size was the Rockies, I wondered if we were now in New Mexico. The idea of crossing state lines scared me stupid. I had visions of winding up a sex slave in a country far around the globe. But who'd want a five-foot-three bookworm with curly brown hair and hazel eyes, even if she was on the curvy side? Weren't leggy, blue-eyed blonds much more desirable for that kind of thing? I mean, that's what I'd want if I were some rich foreign guy.
What if no one ever figured out where they'd taken me?
My stomach churned at the idea.
For the longest time on that never-ending, I listened
desperately for sounds that might give away our location. That proved impossible, though I did notice that fewer and fewer vehicles passed us. Exhausted by my mind games, I felt around and realized I sat on a bench-type seat, which meant I could stretch out if I wanted to. I definitely did and tried to relax to conserve my energy.
Sometime later, we turned off pavement onto gravel. Even later, we negotiated a dirt path—at least that's what it felt like. The SUV lurched and ground over rocks or maybe tree roots. I pictured us going deeper and deeper into no man's land, far from everything I knew.
"Get up!" A Wolfman—not sure which--shook me awake. Disoriented, I kicked when he grasped my ankles to pull me out the door. That
didn't faze him. He waited until I stood before pushing me forward so I'd walk. Blinded and still half-asleep, I tripped a lot, especially when I came to a step. All that kept me from a hard fall was the hand that grabbed the back of my Tshirt and jerked me upright. Just as I got my balance, the tote and blanket were shoved into my arms. The air pressure shifted slightly as a door slammed shut. I heard what sounded like a padlock fastened from the outside of it.
I just stood there, not sure what to do. Dead silence told me I was now alone, but where? I ripped the mask from my eyes and saw…nothing.
All at once, I couldn't breathe.
I sat down hard on the floor to keep from falling. The darkness consumed me.
Chapter Three
I don't know how long it took me to get control of my fear. A long time, I guessed. I immediately set to work tearing the tape from my wrists, an impossible task that took teeth and time. What a relief it was finally peeling it off, even if some of my skin went with it.
On hands and knees, I crawled the perimeters of the black dark room, checking for exits or windows. The floor felt smooth and cool. Concrete, for sure. The walls, too. A spider or something skittered over my hand. I jerked back with a squeal. It took awhile to get up the nerve to explore again. I found the door I'd entered earlier and felt damp night air seeping under it. Standing, I groped for a knob or latch, but there wasn’t one. I shoved my shoulder against it—no give whatever. Someone's storm cellar, maybe? I realized I could touch the ceiling and still have bend in my elbows. Something wispy, a spider web, brushed against my cheek. I ducked and frantically shook out my hair.
When I scooted my foot along the floor toward the center of the room, I found the tote bag right away. I set it to one side and moved forward again, almost tripping over an empty fivegallon bucket. My toilet? Ew. My shoe next nudged a sack containing a couple bottles of liquid, probably water, plus a bag of potato chips or something. I hoped those meager supplies meant my kidnappers planned on a short stay.
