Amanda

 

How long have I been in this trunk? I have no idea. There’s no way to keep track of time. At first I started counting, keeping the seconds straight in my head. By the time I reached ten thousand seconds, I got tired and gave up. I did the math in my head the best I could. Almost three hours. Jesus. How much longer were we driving?

 

Maybe while he’s driving, he’ll change his mind. Come to his senses.

 

Yeah, right.

 

My nostrils are full of the smell of his cologne, on the clothes all around me. I’d hoped never to smell it again. The scent brings me back to so many moments I wanted to forget. I can’t believe I used to like smelling it on me after a date. That feels like a lifetime ago. In some ways, it was. I especially loved when he left traces of it on my pillow after we slept together. Now I gag from the smell.

 

They say smell is the strongest memory sense. Even more than sound. We smell something, like a perfume or cologne, and it takes us right back to a moment. I know the smell of baking muffins will always remind me of my grandmother. I wonder if that smell will remind Carly of me after I’m dead.

 

I can’t entertain that thought. But the longer Lucas drives without stopping, the more likely it seems. He’s going to kill me. I don’t know how, or exactly when. But that’s the plan. Either that or he wants to keep me as a sex slave. I’d rather he killed me and got it over with, frankly. I’m actually to the point where I’d rather die than be touched by him in that way again.

 

At first, my legs were sore, being stuck in the same position for such a long time. Now I don’t feel them anymore. I’m numb, physically and emotionally. What does that mean? The fact that I just don’t care anymore. Once the panic passes, and the tears, I give in to the finality of it. Nobody knows where I was. I felt around for my purse at one point but didn’t feel anything in the trunk but those damned clothes. So there wouldn’t even be ID on my body when they found me. There was no way to track me—my cell would at least have allowed for that. I’m sure it’s on my living room floor.

 

Who will find it first? Carly? She’s bound to be upset tomorrow when I don’t come into the shop or answer her calls. I hope she doesn’t blame Christopher. God, please don’t let people blame him. This is no fault of his. But damned if I didn’t tell Carly I was going to see him. How could the police not take a clue like that and run with it? I punch the metal above my head, frustrated. He doesn’t deserve this. Neither of us does.

 

I only hope he doesn’t blame himself. There was nothing he could have done to protect me. Lucas was determined to get to me.

 

The car slows, then stops. My heart begins to race. Oh, no, this is it. I thought I was okay with this, but now I’m not. I don’t want to die. Oh, God, please don’t let me die.

 

The slam of the door. Footsteps. Keys. A beeping noise—the lock releases. The trunk opening.

 

If my legs weren’t so stiff, I’d kick out at him and run. I wish I’d thought of that before. I’d have tried to move them. Now I’m useless. Laying here, shielding my eyes from the bright neon light above Lucas’s head.

 

“Hi there,” he says brightly. Is he actually happy right now? Oh, right. Of course he is. He has what he always wanted.

 

“Where are we? Why are you doing this?”

 

“So many questions.” Like he’s talking to a willful child. He takes me by the shoulders, his hands rough. I forgot how big his hands were. The way they hurt when they curled into fists. He pulls me to a sitting position. I look around.

 

“Where are we?” I ask, and I hate myself for the pleading note in my voice. There are cars whizzing past, maybe a few hundred yards away. The trunk of the car is facing the road. I couldn’t run for it if I tried. I’d fall, cramped up. He might kill me then and there.

 

“A diner. A very special diner.” Now he’s the benevolent parent, or even the happy child. With a big surprise for me. He helps me from the trunk, almost careful with me now. Strangely so, considering the way he hit me over the head to get me to go with him.

 

I stand and instantly crumple to the ground. “What’s with you?” he asks, laughter in his voice.

 

“My legs are all cramped,” I say, rubbing them.

 

“Oh. Didn’t think about that.” He gets down on one knee, rubbing my legs along with me. His face is so close to mine. His curly, blond hair is shorter than I remember it when I last saw him. It smells like product, a menthol smell. He’s overwhelming my senses. I feel torn between wanting to be sick and wanting to drive my knee into his nose. I’m afraid he has a gun. It’s the only thing stopping me.

 

“Thank you,” I murmur, sensing politeness will get me a lot further than rudeness. Soon I’m on my feet again.

 

“Hmm…” Lucas looks me over. “I can’t take you in there with…this.” He motions to my head, where I was bleeding earlier. Am I still? I reached up, but he smacks my hand away. Like it’s nothing, like he wasn’t the one who did it to me. “Don’t worry about it. Here.” He reaches into the trunk, pulling out a wool hat. “See? I thought of everything.” Jesus. He foresaw this being a problem? He shoves the hat over my head roughly. It hurts. I wince. “Stop being such a baby,” he mutters.

 

My eyes sting with tears of frustration and futile rage. It’s so cold out here, very cold for Texas. I’m glad I’m still wearing my coat at least.

 

“Let’s go inside,” he says, taking my arm in his. Like some chivalrous prince, instead of my kidnapper. I look away from him, my eyes taking note of the diner for the first time. Oh, no. Not this place.

 

“Remember when we met here?” he asks, leaning conspiratorially toward me, squeezing my arm in his. “It was the best day of my life.”

 

Yes, I remembered it very well. I was with a group of friends, on a road trip to Austin for a music festival. He was on his way to the same event. The fact he was alone should have raised a red flag. It didn’t. I thought he was cute. We happened to cross paths at this diner along the way. Promised to meet up again when we made it to Austin.

 

How different would my life be if we’d never stopped for something to eat that day? If I hadn’t decided to go to Austin in the first place?

 

My mind is racing. What can I do to attract attention? He’s going to be watching me closely. What if I start screaming, just shouting at the top of my lungs? He hasn’t threatened me with a weapon yet, aside from whatever he used to hit me over the head. What would happen?

 

“I know I don’t need to warn you about this,” he murmurs, as though reading my thoughts, “but I thought you should know I wouldn’t want to have to use the gun in my coat pocket. On you, or on any stupid Good Samaritan. Get it?”

 

I nod, miserable. So much for that.

 

He requests a table for two. The waitress leads us to a booth. There are only three other tables with customers at this point. I look at the clock on the wall. It’s already two in the morning. We’ve been in the car for over three hours. No wonder I was so stiff.

 

He sits me down in the booth, then sits opposite me. I open the menu, not seeing the words in front of me. Trying to think of a way to get help. I look at the other patrons over the top of the menu. They’re all tired, minding their own business. I guess that’s how it goes at this time of the morning.

 

“See anything you like here?” Lucas asks, now the indulgent parent. He’s so pleased with himself for remembering this place. I’ve been trying to forget it for years.

 

“Oh, I don’t know…I don’t usually eat at this time of night. I’m not very hungry.”

 

“Come on. If I know you, you love your French toast. Right?” At least he remembers that.

 

“Yeah. French toast. That’s usually my favorite.”

 

He claps his hands. He literally claps his hands like a little boy. If I didn’t feel so dead inside, I’d laugh.

 

“See? I know you. I’ll order you some of that.”

 

“Okay, sure. Thanks.”

 

No sooner do I put down the menu than he takes my hands in his. I use every bit of self-control to keep from screaming. I do flinch, but only slightly. He doesn’t seem to notice.

 

“I’ve missed you so much. I bet you didn’t think I’d come for you, did you?”

 

“No, Lucas. I knew you’d come eventually.”

 

He smiles, not hearing what I’m actually trying to say. Only hearing the words. “You did? You knew I’d rescue you?”

 

“Yes. I knew you would come. No matter how hard I tried to run away from our relationship, you’d never let me get away. You don’t give up that easily.”

 

“You’re damn right, I don’t.”

 

The waitress comes over, looking bored. “What can I get for y’all?”

 

Lucas grins at her. “This little lady will have French toast and sausage. I’ll have buttermilk pancakes and bacon, please. Oh, and coffee for both of us.” He smiles at me. “I know you like your coffee, too.”

 

“Yes. I run a coffee shop.”

 

The waitress doesn’t care either way, and walks to the kitchen.

 

His face changes. “You did run a coffee shop. That’s all in the past, now.”

 

“Oh? Why? Where are we going?”

 

“You don’t think I’d ever let you go back there, do you?”

 

“I guess I should know better than to think that.”

 

“You should. No, we’re going to the place I told you about in the last messages I sent you. Didn’t you get them?” I search my memory, but come up empty. He frowns. “You mean to tell me you’re here with me, and you don’t even know where we’re going? God, how rude of me! You must be completely confused.” He laughs like this is all a joke.

 

I crack a tiny smile. “So where are we going?”

 

“We’re going back to the tower. Remember? Where we first fell in love?”

 

“Oh, right. That’s very romantic.” I can’t bear to squeeze even a bit of emotion into my voice, but he couldn’t care less. He’s on cloud nine, thinking how impressed I am.

 

“Remember? When we went up there together and could see the entire campus and then out in the distance for miles and miles? And you said you felt like a princess in a tower, and I was your prince? How I’d come to rescue you? Don’t you remember?”

 

I do remember that. I’d believed it at the time, too. How could I have been so naïve? He wasn’t a prince. He was a demon.

 

“I remember,” I say, my voice still flat. Like a robot.

 

He doesn’t notice. “I thought it would be fitting for us to go back there. See, that’s where I first knew I loved you. When we stood in that tower together. You were my beautiful princess. I was your galant prince. Rescuing you from a life of loneliness. And I’m rescuing you again. Taking you away from that awful place. That town you ran away to. What made you do that?”

 

“I don’t know, Lucas. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

 

“To put it mildly.” Has he always been this completely insane, or did it just happen? Did my leaving throw him off the deep end? Maybe he needs medication. This isn’t the man I used to know. He wasn’t this delusional. I guess time spent alone, brooding, might do this to a person. Maybe he was always sick, and it didn’t start showing until now. Either way, he’s unnerving.

 

The food comes quickly. I was secretly hoping it would take a while, not because I wanted to spend so much as an extra second with this insane person who I once thought I loved but because I know he plans to kill me. All he wants to do is get me to the tower. Not live happily ever after. I notice he says nothing about the future.

 

I put the sausage off to the side.

 

“What are you doing?” Lucas asks.

 

“I don’t like sausage,” I say. “I never have.”

 

“Yes, you do.”

 

“No, I don’t.” I have no idea why it’s so important to have my way in this. Maybe I need to be myself, for only a minute. He doesn’t know me anywhere near as well as he thinks he does.

 

“You are so ungrateful!” His fist hits the table, causing heads to turn our way. “This is so like you. Throwing my generosity back in my face. Being a little bitch.”

 

Good. Throw a fit. Let everyone see how insane you are. “I don’t see what the big deal is. I just don’t like sausage. I’ve never eaten sausage in your presence.”

 

“No, but I bet if some biker trash gave you his sausage, you’d put that in your mouth fast enough. Wouldn’t you?”

 

I’m shocked, not only that he’d say something like that so loudly, but that he just referenced Christopher.

 

“Excuse me.” The waitress has come over to our table. “Do you need assistance?” She looks at me.

 

I look up, desperately trying to send her a message with my eyes.

 

“We’re fine. Thank you.” Lucas’s tone is cold.

 

The waitress shoots me another look before turning away.

 

“Don’t look at her again,” he whispers in a warning tone as she walks back to the counter. “Remember what I have in my pocket.”

 

I turn my attention to my plate, half-heartedly picking at the food. Shifting it around on the plate so he won’t bug me about it again.

 

“Why do you make me do things like that?” he whispers urgently. “Why?”

 

“I don’t know, Lucas,” I say. I’m so tired now.

 

He takes a big mouthful of pancakes. “Bet you didn’t think I knew all about your little boyfriend.” He smirks.

 

I’m too overwhelmed to care. I shrug.

 

“Well, I do. I know all about him.”

 

I know he wants me to ask how he knows. “How did you manage that?”

 

“The internet. It’s not hard.”

 

“How long have you been watching me?” Let’s cut to the chase. I’m sick of playing games.

 

“Two days. I sent the clipping, then drove to your town. My car was sitting right outside your house, and you didn’t even notice.” He sounds gleeful.

 

“You got a new car. I didn’t recognize it.”

 

“I thought you’d feel me. You know what I mean? I felt you. The moment you drove up, it was like your energy called to me. Tried to pull me toward you. It’s a force of nature.” He stares at me, hard. I feel his steel-gray eyes boring holes into the top of my head as I stare down at my plate. “You can’t fight a force of nature. Don’t you know that by now?”

 

I shake my head, tears falling onto my plate. I swipe my hand over my face, wiping the tears and my running nose. He hands me a napkin without a word. I blow my nose.

 

“Aren’t you hungry?”

 

“Not very. Like I said, I don’t eat at this time of night often. I’ll try some.” I make a half-hearted attempt at eating a few bites, swallowing down some coffee. I take deep breaths to keep from having it come back up.

 

He’s finishing up. Shit. I have to find a way to send a message. I look around, not moving my head. What can I do? The waitress has been watching us on and off, I’ve seen her from the corner of my eye. Can I get through to her? Somehow?

 

“I have to use the bathroom.” It comes to me out of nowhere. The funny thing is, I actually do have to pee. I’ve been in a car for hours, after drinking a bunch of coffee at the shop. I’ll leave a note on the bathroom mirror in soap. Something. Anything.

 

“Okay. I’ll take you in a minute. As soon as I pay.”

 

My heart sinks. “What?”

 

“I said I’ll take you to the bathroom.”

 

“I don’t need you to do that. I’m a big girl. I know how to pee.”

 

He looks at me, a hard glint in his eyes. The benevolent parent has left the building, along with the joyful child. “If you think I’m going to leave you alone, you underestimate me.”

 

“I would rather not go if you’re going to go in with me.”

 

“Tough. You’re going to. Don’t tell me you suddenly don’t have to go.”

 

I fight back the tears. I won’t cry in front of him again. Not ever. He puts money down on the table, then stands. He takes my elbow, making me stand beside him. “Walk in front of me. Don’t you dare attract attention.” We go to the restrooms, which consist of a male and female facility. He pushes me into the ladies’ room, following me inside and locking the door.

 

I’ve never felt so humiliated in my life. I sit there trembling while he watches. There’s a soap dispenser and a big mirror. I could have left a note. I could have.

 

We walk back out to the car after Lucas orders me to make no eye contact with anyone. In the parking lot, he berates me in a menacing whisper the entire way back to the car.

 

“I wasn’t going to make you get back into the trunk, but you leave me with no choice. If you didn’t have to try to be smart, to trick me, I would have let you ride in the front seat. But no. I can’t trust you. I have to put you in the trunk. You did this to yourself.”

 

“Please don’t make me ride in there. It’s so cramped and uncomfortable. There’s no fresh air. Besides, don’t you want to talk some more? We can’t talk when I’m in the trunk.” The car is getting closer all the time. I could make a break for it now. My legs don’t feel cramped up anymore.

 

His hand tightens on my elbow. “I don’t think so. You need to learn your lesson. Good girls get to ride in the front seat.” He pushes the button on his car key, popping the trunk. I look around. Surely, somebody has to see this. But we’ve parked far from the diner. We’re out of sight.

 

He shoves me inside with a word, then slams it shut. I wait until he starts the engine before bursting into tears, one fist in my mouth to muffle the sound.