I can't stop my body from trembling. They didn't bother blindfolding me, but I'm gagged, and my wrists are tied behind my back and my ankles are bound. Zip ties dig into my skin. I'm on the ground, propped up against a shed to the right of the restaurant parking lot. There's a creek to my left, and I'm almost certain that's where I'll be soon. I guess they wanted to hit him with shock factor. His girl, tied up and gagged, in clear view of the dirt road that leads here. Just beyond the treeline is the highway. I can hear the cars. I can even see the headlights. But they can't see me. No one can save me.

Maybe Tommy, but I may have also led him to his death. I'm certain he knows this is an ambush, though. Why else would he talk in code? My heart stopped when he said packages. My eyes almost darted to look at the man holding the phone, almost gave me away. Thank fuck I stayed calm. Four men. The odds are against us, but hopefully with the warning I managed to give Tommy, he'll have a chance.

They dumped me here like I was a bag of trash. Tossed me to the ground and went to stand behind their cars. Two black cars blend into the dark. But they're there, and if he's looking for something off, he should see them. They aren't in their cars. They're standing behind the one closest to me, with their weapons drawn and ready.

Jagged rocks dig into my knees as I move slightly across the ground. I'm moving slowly, so they don't notice. They aren't paying attention to me. One's smoking, and the other three are talking in hushed whispers. I can barely hear though, except for the occasional laughs. They're also going back and forth between Russian and English, so even when I can hear them, I'm not exactly sure what they're saying.

I'm not certain, but I think they want him to watch me die. As soon as he drives down and sees me tied here and struggling, that's when they'll do it. Shoot me until I fall lifeless on the ground. Although one keeps saying how he wants to see Tommy run to me as they shoot us both. The others don't. They don't want to kill him right away. They have questions that need to be answered.

I don't care what they're saying. I know their endgame is to have both of us dead. I'll most likely end up in the creek, and Tommy's corpse will be sent back as a message to the Valettis.

I'm not going to let either of those scenarios happen. I need to live; I have to survive this. And right now, there's only me. If I can get free, I can run. My eyes dart to the four men who are in plain view and holding guns. My heart beats rapidly in my chest. I'll have to wait until I have a chance, but I'll try. I can't fight back without having any weapons on me. That would be suicide. But I can give Tommy a warning, and I can run. That's my only hope.

There's a broken bottle only a foot from me. If I fall over, I should be able to snag a piece. There's only a single zip tie binding my wrists, and one more binding my ankles. I can do this. Ankles first, so I can run as soon as Tommy gets here.

I scoot my knees across the dirt and they scrape against the gravel. I ignore the pain. Just another inch and then I prepare myself for the fall. It's gonna fuck up my shoulder since I can't brace for it. But I can fucking take it. I crash against the ground and hit my shoulder. My head bounces from the impact. The men look over at me while I struggle to take a piece of glass in my hand. My fingers graze across a few small pieces, but they aren't large enough. The jagged chunks pierce through my shirt and cut into my skin. Again, it's not horrible, but fuck it hurts. The fucker smoking sets his eyes on me. He tosses his cigarette onto the dirt and walks over with quick strides.

His dark eyes stare into mine as my fingers finally find a large chunk. I'm quick to make a fist to conceal it, even though it digs into the palm of my hand. I can't risk him seeing it. It's my only chance at freeing myself.

My heart skips a beat as he grabs my shoulders and drags my body back to the shed. The glass and gravel scrape my legs and I try to cry out, but the gag mutes the screams.

“Stay!” he yells, pointing his finger at me like I'm a dog. It gets a laugh from the other men. His large hand grips my chin and then he smacks my face several times—not hard, just enough to demoralize me. “Bad bitch. Stay.” His accent is thick. I rest my head against the shed and pretend that I've lost all hope. I let the tears that beg to be released, slide down my cheeks. He laughs sickly and his foul breath fills my lungs as he turns to leave me, walking back to stand with the others. They're talking louder now, and in Russian.

As soon as I hear them patting him on the back and laughing, I push the glass to the zip tie on my ankle. It almost slips from my hand. The blood from my hand makes it difficult to hold. But I keep my grip and move it back and forth across the plastic. The glass is uneven and cuts into my ankles a few times, but the pain doesn't register at all. My eyes are focused on the gap in the trees, marking the entrance to this area. Tommy will be here soon; all I need to do is free myself before that happens.

It feels like forever, but it must only be a few minutes until both the zip ties around my wrists and ankles have snapped. I don't move yet. My limbs are screaming at me to take off. But they don't need me alive, they just want to make it hurt that much more for Tommy. If I run, they could shoot to kill me and there's no reason they'd hold back. Even worse, if I did run and they caught me, I don't know what they'd do to me. But I'm sure they wouldn't let me get out again.

So I wait. My skin prickles with anxiety, and the only thing I can hear is my heart beating loudly in my ears. I remember my phone in my back pocket and I struggle to keep my movements slow. Every time one of them looks at me, I freeze and try to remain as still as possible.

I should call the cops. I need help, and I know they could possibly come in time to save me, but they may also find Tommy. I don't want him to get caught in the middle of this, but I have to do everything I can to save myself and our baby. My skin feels like ice as I dial the numbers 9-1-1 behind my back. But I've done it.

I can faintly hear the dispatcher speaking, even though I can't give her any verbal confirmation that I'm on the line. I hit a button every few seconds, hoping she'll catch on.

“Are you unable to speak?” I barely hear the words. I don't hit any keys.

“If you can hear me, dial a number.” My thumb presses down. I barely hear a faint beep. I keep my eyes on my captors. They show no signs that they can hear anything.

“Assistance is on its way. Is there a threat in your immediate vicinity?” she asks.

The phone slips from my hand as I try to push a number. It falls to the ground with a faint thud. I watch them, but they don't hear it. I can't hear her anymore.

There's no one else.

All I can do now is wait. There's nothing else left that I can do to save myself. I need Tommy.