Chapter 28

Juliana

 

 

My boss, Mr. Henderson, looked up when I knocked on his open door, motioning for me to come inside. He was a balding, chubby man with red cheeks and cheap suits, but he was kind enough. He smiled as I entered. “What can I do for you, Juliana?”

“I was wondering if I could take off a little bit early today?” I asked, hoping against all hope that he said yes. I’d never asked to leave early, but I was eager to get supplies for my date with Pacey.

Mr. Henderson nodded, then noted something down on the calendar that covered his desk. “Sure, everything okay?”

“It’s fine. I just need to get to the store before it closes.” I’d decided to try making a quiche, since I figured that it couldn’t be that much harder than cooking regular eggs. I knew that I could’ve gotten everything I needed from just about any store, but I wanted to give myself enough time to experiment.

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Juliana.”

“See you.” I waved at Mr. Henderson and practically skipped to my car.

My heart had started pounding like a drum when Pacey called earlier, and I was super excited to see him. Despite my doubts and misgivings about both of our situations, I couldn’t control my body’s reaction to him, and I didn’t really want to.

He made me feel things that I’d never felt before and stirred something warm and fuzzy in my heart. I dug out the keys to the Jeep and barely stuck to the speed limit on the way to the store.

Wind streamed in through my open window, tugging at my high ponytail, cooling me down. There was a good beat to the music playing on the radio, and I was on my way to pick up supplies for a date with the hottest guy ever who I thought I might be falling for. All things considered, I was happy, excited and for the first time in a long time, the future seemed alive with possibility.

The last couple of months with Scott had been a mistake. I was realizing that more with each day that passed without him. That knowledge eased my worry about being with Pacey and giving things with him a real shot so soon after the breakup.

After all, he was the first man that made me wonder about the future beyond a few months or weeks, and I thought that he felt the same way.

Bubbles of joy floated through my veins at the thought that he could actually, really, maybe be the one. By the time I got to the store, my excitement had reached unprecedented levels and it felt like I was floating on cloud nine as I moved from aisle to aisle.

I carefully selected the ingredients that the recipe I saved on my phone told me I would need, then paid for my purchases, and positively buzzing, headed home. It felt like I was standing right at the very edge of something amazing, something life-changing.

As soon as I got home, I threw on a pair of shorts and a tank top and headed back to the Jeep to collect my groceries, carrying it all to the kitchen in one go.

“Right,” I muttered to myself. “Where do I start?”

I pulled up the saved recipe again, set the onions I was supposed to start dicing on the counter, and started packing away the rest of the stuff for the time being when there was a knock at my door.

Turning my wrist to check the time on my watch, I frowned a little. There was still about an hour and a half before Pacey was supposed to be here. Whoever it was knocked again.

Amber. It had to be her. A frisson of irritation ran through me, but I pushed it down. I’d asked her for space the last time she’d been here, but if she was here because she was in trouble, I wouldn’t turn her away.

Not immediately, anyway. I sighed and called out. “Be right there.”

I padded out of the kitchen after making sure that the pastry I bought was sitting out to continue defrosting while I dealt with whoever was interrupting my preparations. Of all the days for a surprise visit, this was not the one I wanted any distractions for.

Since I wasn’t even supposed to home yet, I also failed to understand why anyone would bother to look for me here instead of at work. I swung the door open and scowled at the dreadlocked man who’d been here with Scott all those weeks ago.

“He’s not here,” I told Dreadlocks coldly, then started to close the door in his face. He placed his palm on the door though and pushed his way inside.

“I know your boyfriend isn’t here,” he told me in a tone that made my blood run cold. I backed away from him. Alarm bells started blaring in my mind to get away from him, to get out of the house.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I started, but then my eyes grew wide, and my heart froze when he pulled a rag from his pocket.

I spun on my heel to make a run for it, but I wasn’t fast enough. Dreadlocks caught my wrist and shoved me against the wall by my shoulder. Pain shot through my back from the harsh impact, but I couldn’t focus on that.

His breath was acrid on my face, his pupil’s only pinpricks, and his face contorted with malice as he grimaced down at me, sneering, “Don’t fight me; you’ll only make this harder on yourself if you do.”

One of his forearms came up and pushed against my neck, restricting my airway, keeping me pinned to the wall. The next thing I knew he produced the rag and slammed it over my nose and mouth. My vision started blurring almost immediately, and I sagged, my knees not able to hold me up anymore. Blackness crept in, and it felt like I was falling. Dreadlocks caught me by the shoulders and gave me a blood-chilling grin, saying. “Nighty-night, bitch.”

Then the blackness won out, and I collapsed.

The first thing I became aware of when I woke up was that I was on something springy and that my head felt like someone had smashed it against a wall. My throat was dry, and my mouth tasted terrible. I managed to crack open an eye and saw that I was in a car.

Ah, that’s why it feels like I’m moving.

The car had brown seats and smelled like stale ass, mixed with old tobacco and a pungent, sweet smell that I couldn’t quite place. Dreadlocks was in the front seat, his back turned to me, while another guy that I’d never seen before drove.

Shit.

This was very, very bad. It became infinitely worse when I became aware of the fact that my ankles and wrists were secured by cable ties. I felt dizzy and faint.

I’m being kidnapped. Why the hell would they kidnap me?

It was insane. Panic gripped at my insides and fear wrapped around my heart like tentacles with those little suction cups on them. I tried to think back to every movie I’d ever watched where someone got kidnapped, but nothing useful for my situation came to mind.

My stomach turned as we went over a bump, but the jolt reminded me that I knew this town like the back of my hand. If I could figure out where I was, maybe I could start coming up with a plan to escape from wherever they ended up taking me. I knew a lot of people around town; surely, I would be able to run to someone’s house.

Escape plan? Don’t be ridiculous.

I pushed the snide voice in my head away and popped my head up, straining my neck to catch a glimpse of where we were. Unfortunately, the movement caught Dreadlocks’s eye, and he spun in his seat, waving a finger at me.

“Where are we going?” I croaked, my throat scratchy.

Dreadlocks reached back and shoved my head down, banging it on the armrest on the way down. A scream ripped from my throat, but his other hand clamped over my mouth.

“Somewhere no one will hear you scream,” he told me menacingly, then grabbed the rag and shoved it into my mouth.

I tried to struggle, to fight him off, but my limbs became numb, and the black spots started clouding my vision again. It was useless to try to blink them away. I couldn’t fight it. Soon, the blackness was winning over my lame attempt to fight it back, and I passed out. Again.