I was more than happy to watch Longbridge disappear into the distance behind us. The sight of the encroaching desert wasn’t all that much more appealing, but at least it meant that Justin and I were heading in the right direction, back toward civilization.

Justin was as taciturn as he’d been since the morning started, and he spent the first hour of the drive staring out the window. I couldn’t help but wonder what was on his mind. As irritating as it was to be treated like this, my curiosity was beginning to get the better of me. Just what was going on that caused him to go from charming and friendly to so distant and cold? I had nothing to base it on, but I suspected there was something more going on than just him having woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

“I’d ask you if you had any music requests, but I’m sure you’re just as familiar as I am with the reception situation,” I said, trying to make conversation.

“Yep,” he said, the word coming out in a grunt, his eyes still on the passing landscape.

“How’d you pass the time on the way here?” I asked. “I mostly spent it thinking about how screwed I was after my tire went out.”

A moment passed.

“Just spent time with my thoughts, I suppose.”

And that was that. I figured at that point if we were going to have some sparkling conversation I’d let him be the one to instigate it.

The next hour ticked by, and soon we were deep into the desolate outback. The reddish dirt stretched out all around us, and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. I thanked God for air-conditioning. I couldn’t imagine how anyone could be expected to make this drive in the blistering heat outside.

Then, I spotted something. It was ahead, on the road ahead of us. A black shape, it was a stark contrast to the earthy tones that made up the rest of the vista.

“What is that?” I asked, squinting my eyes.

Justin snapped out of his daydreaming and focused his attention on the object ahead.

“Is that…a car?”

As we drove closer to the object, it became clear that’s what it was. The car was a large SUV, coal black and ominous, pulled onto the road and blocking both of the lanes. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Justin’s body tense up.

“Go around it,” he said. “Don’t stop.”

“What?” I asked. “Are you serious? That might be someone stranded on the road.”

“It’s not,” he said. “Pull around it. Now!”

He yelled out the last word, surprising me. I glanced around the road, trying to find a spot to pull off into the dirt in order to make a half-circle around the SUV. As we drew closer, I saw that the windows were pitch-black. The car reminded me of something one might see in a presidential motorcade, filled with suit-clad secret service agents with short hair and sunglasses.

“What are you doing?” he asked, seeing that I was still driving straight ahead. “We can’t stop.”

“There’s nowhere to pull off,” I said. “Unless you want to risk popping a tire on these rocks. We’ll just stop and ask them to move.”

Justin’s eyes were narrowed in determination. I spotted his gaze fixed on the steering wheel, as though he was considering grabbing it and forcing me off the road. Before he could do anything, however, I slowed the car and came to a stop about a dozen feet before the SUV. The dust settled around us, and the vehicle ahead stayed just as still as it had been.

“You need to back up, pull off the road, and drive around this car. Now, before it’s too late.”

“Before it’s too late?” I repeated. “What are you talking about? Tell me what you know about what’s going on, dammit.”

He didn’t get a chance. Before either of us could say another word, the roaring of a car engine cut through the air and in the rearview mirror I watched as another black car, this one a large van, appeared over the horizon. It drove toward us at an incredible speed, becoming larger and larger in the mirror by the second.

“Justin,” I said. “What the hell is going on?”

He said nothing, instead reaching back for his duffel. He rooted through it, grabbing something. Before I had a chance to see what it was, however, the approaching van cut across the road, the tires squealing as the vehicle came to a halt, dust kicked up and clouding the air around it.

I looked over, seeing what Justin had taken out of the bag, and my heart began to pound in my chest.

“Why do you have a gun?” I asked.

Justin didn’t have a chance to say a word. Right at that moment, the doors of both cars opened and out poured a half-dozen men dressed in rugged outdoor wear and sunglasses. And in their hands were the unmistakable shapes of pistols. The men swarmed the car, forming up on both sides of us and leveling their weapons.

I let out a long scream, fear running through me.

“Get out of the fucking car!” one of the men shouted as he banged on the driver’s-side window with his fist. “And put down the gun, Gable!”

How did these men know who Justin was?

“Justin, what the hell is going on?” I asked.

He said nothing, his expression grim and the gun still in his hand as his eyes darted around at the men surrounding us.

“Just do what they say,” he murmured to me.

He tossed the gun to the floor of the car where it landed with a heavy thud. I gripped onto the steering wheel hard, trying to control my trembling hands and the terror coursing through me.

“This is your final warning, Gable!” shouted the man next to my door, a beefy man with a shaved head and a pug-ugly mug. “Get out of the car before we do something that you’re gonna regret!”

“Justin!” I yelled, now frantic with fear. “Please, tell me what’s going on!”

He narrowed his eyes hard for a long moment as if trying to make a decision between two very difficult choices. Finally, he spoke.

“Shit!” he yelled, reaching down and clicking the safety on his gun before raising his hands.

Then he turned to me.

“Listen—you need to do whatever these guys say. Don’t make any sudden moves. Don’t try anything. Got it?”

“But what the hell is going on?” I asked. “Who are you?”

“I’ll explain what I can in a moment,” he said. “But for now, you’re going to have to trust me.”

Tears stinging my eyes, I nodded. I didn’t know what else to do.

“Okay!” shouted Justin. “We’re coming out! Just don’t do anything stupid!”

My eyes shot around at the men, moving from one gun to another. I’d never had a weapon pointed at me before, and the feeling was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I felt helpless and terrified.

“I could say the same for you!” shouted the pug-ugly man. “Open the doors, and we’ll do the rest!”

I glanced at Justin, waiting for some kind of instruction.

“Do it,” he said. “Open the door. These guys are professionals. They won’t do anything unless they have to.”

I nodded, grabbing my purse before placing my hand on the door handle and pulling it open. The instant the door flung open, two of the men rushed toward me and put their hands on my arms. With a hard tug, they yanked me out of the car and onto my feet.

“There she is,” said the man, his eyes moving up and down my body, a pleased smile on his lips. “There’s the billion-dollar girl.”

“What?” I asked, now totally confused in addition to being scared out of my mind.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Justin was in the same position, having been pulled out of his side of the car, his arms restrained behind his back.

“Don’t play stupid,” said the man. “We know you’re the girl Gable’s looking after.”

“What the hell are they talking about, Justin?” I asked.

“You guys have the wrong girl,” Justin said shaking his head. “She’s just someone I met in town—she’s not my client.”

“Client?” What was going on?

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” said the man. “You say she’s not the girl—we let her go, and she gets picked up on the roadside twenty minutes later. Not falling for it, Gable. Now, get these two in the back of the van. We’ve got a long goddamn drive ahead of us.”

Without another word, the men brought Justin and me to the van behind us, popped open the back, and tossed us in. Once we were in the back, one of the men reached in and fastened some zip ties around our wrists. Then the doors shut, and we were alone. Soon after, the car rumbled, and we were off.

For several moments, I was too scared and shaken to say anything. My heart wouldn’t stop thump-thump-thumping in my chest, and I couldn’t seem to catch my breath.

“You need to breathe,” said Justin after we’d been on our way for a few minutes. “You’re taking shallow breaths, and you’re going to hyperventilate.”

“I…can’t,” I said, my head feeling woozy.

“Hold your breath for a second, close your eyes, and let the air out of your lungs.”

I did.

“Now, hold for another second, then take a slow, deep breath.”

I did this too. And now I was finally able to fill my lungs.

“Got it?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

I took in several more breaths, feeling a little less like I was going to pass out at any second. Once the light-headedness went away, I became keenly aware of just what kind of an insane situation we were in.

“Justin,” I said. “Assuming that’s your real name. You want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

Justin looked away for a moment as if carefully considering his next words.

“I’m not in the logging industry.”

“Figured that much out myself,” I said. “If your story wasn’t already flimsy as hell, I don’t think logging consultants have too many issues with masked men trying to kidnap them.”

He flashed me an expression that seemed to say: “Are you done yet?” I closed my mouth and let him go on.

“I used to be a Navy SEAL,” he said. “I retired a few years back, and now I work as a bodyguard for high-profile clients.”

It all seemed like another wild story. But believing him was all I could do.

“And these guys?”

“No idea,” he said. “I know my next client’s been running with some…sketchy types, to say the least. Might be people she owes money to, might be some people looking to kidnap her for a ransom—no idea. All I can say is that they’re the exact types she’s paying me to keep her safe from.”

“Then why did they kidnap the both of us?” I asked.

“You haven’t figured it out?” he asked. “They think you’re the client. She’s young like you, pretty, well-dressed—all that. They must’ve been following me for a while and figured that I was meeting you in Longbridge to keep a low profile.”

“And now what do they want to do with us?”

“Probably planning on keeping you for a ransom,” he said. “Me, they’re likely planning on putting a bullet in my head, kicking me out of the car, and letting the sundry critters of the outback take care of the rest.”

“But they’ll figure out that I’m not the client, right?” I asked. “Then what?”

“That, I can’t say. But it’s not looking too good for the both of us.”

My heart sank, and fear took hold of me once again.