It’s hot in the trunk. Even though it’s cool outside, my panic is making me sweat. I squirm sideways, trying to figure out where I’m supposed to kick to knock out the tail light. I know that’s a thing. At least I think I do. It’s hard to maneuver in here with my hands zap strapped behind me. I kick the back of the trunk, but my foot just thuds against the metal with a clunk.

I fucking missed.

The duct tape over my mouth makes it impossible to scream. It’s hard enough to breathe in here as it is. I need to focus. I need to knock out that light and stick my foot through. Then someone will see me and call the cops.

Like I should have.

Why didn’t I listen to Ryan? None of this would’ve happened if I just calmed down and dialed 911. I kick the trunk again, but it does nothing but hurt my foot.

My phone!

Do I still have it? I roll onto my side and the familiar shape pushes into me from inside my jacket. Is there any way I can slide my hands down under my feet? If I can get them in front of me I can rip this tape off my mouth and call.

I wriggle and try to use the limited space to contort myself like a pretzel as the strap digs into my wrist painfully. It pinches my flesh, scratching my skin as I writhe desperately, moving any way possible in an attempt to free myself.

The driving slows and Wolfe pulls off the main road. I can hear gravel crunching under the tires and cold fear sits like a block of ice in my belly. Wherever he’s trying to take me, we’re here. This is where he’s going to kill me.

Eventually.

I know he’ll make me beg for death long before he ever ends it. Terror makes my movements jerky and wild. I thrash like a fish on a line, desperately trying to fall back from my captor’s hands and swim free. My body is coated with sweat and snot is running down from my nose as tears streak my vision. I twist and try to kick as Wolfe lifts me out of the back, tossing me over his shoulder casually and walking me into a dingy motel block that’s seen its fair share of death.

Whether from murder, suicide, or junkies growing stiff while needles stand tall in their arms, the motel staff here have probably seen it all. They won’t even flinch when they find me.

No. I won’t let myself think like this! I’m not dead. Not yet anyway. I can’t give up.

Trying to scream, my voice is muffled by the tape and by the traffic. Anyone sleeping or watching a show on television would never be able to hear me. I kick my toes into Wolfe’s chest as hard as possible and try to roll off his shoulder, but he laughs at my pathetic attempts, easily holding me tight.

The lean, lanky man who snuck up on Ryan like a coward and left him unconscious and bleeding on my grandmother’s floor is right behind us. Wolfe opens the door and then turns toward the man I’ve never seen before.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

“I, uh, was coming inside with you. I wanted to see you work.” His dead eyes glint at me.

“You ain’t watching shit. Go sit in the fucking car like I told ya. You keep a lookout for the cops or anything weird,” Wolfe demands.

The man’s eyes cloud with disappointment, but he knows better than to argue. He just mutters, “Fine.” He walks sullenly back to the car like he was told.

Wolfe carries me inside, plopping me down on the bed. He takes a peek out the window, peering past the dingy curtains before turning back to me with a satisfied smile.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d find you?” He leers at me and I try to fold over onto myself in an attempt to keep his eyes off me. “I bet you thought you were pretty fucking clever with that shit at the apartment, huh?” He slowly stalks toward me like a cat about to pounce a mouse.

“Please.” I try to say the word, but it comes out wrong.

I heave, crying so hard I might throw up. At first I try to push the sensation away, but knowing what Wolfe is likely to do to me, maybe I should try harder. If he takes this tape off my mouth, I’ll vomit all over him. But if he keeps it on, and this is what I’m hoping for, maybe I’ll choke to death. It’s not ideal, but it’s a hell of a better way to go than whatever the fuck he has planned.

“Look at me, you cunt.” He lunges at me and I try to burrow into the mattress to get away. Of course there’s no getting away. There’s no escape from him. Why did I ever try? I was so fucking stupid to think I could have more. That I could start over. That I had any business chasing stupid dreams and… love.

The thought brings fat tears to my eyes. They slide down my cheeks as Wolfe yanks me up to a sitting position by my hair. He stares into me and I see there’s nothing but pure hatred and evil in his eyes. How did I spend so much time ignoring the facts? Why didn’t I leave him sooner?

Would it have made any difference?

“Remember how you thought it was real cute to put your dirty fucking sock in my mouth? Wasn’t that a nice touch? You must have thought you were a real badass, huh? Fucking disrespecting me like that? Don’t worry, I’m gonna return the fucking favor as soon as I’m done using up every hole on your body, babe.”

I cry harder. I already knew he’d rape me. But somehow, hearing him say it out loud, it makes it all so real. I can’t believe this is happening.

“Except I’m not gonna use a dirty sock, Red. For you, I got a nice and filthy, oily rag to shove in your face. I’m gonna tape it in there and set it on fire,” he snarls. He pinches my cheeks hard between his finger and thumb. “I’m gonna enjoy watching this pretty fucking face melt off your skull.”

All I can do is cry louder, but my sobs do nothing. Wolfe pushes me down on the bed. My arms are painfully wrenched underneath me as he rips open my jeans. I close my eyes, turning my head to the side, and try to leave my body. I try to distance myself from what he’s about to do. I silently beg God to make this stop.

Bang! Bang!

Wolfe jumps up straight and my eyes dart over to the motel door. It isn’t knocking that we hear on the other side. It’s too heavy and hard to be that. But the thuds only grow louder as Wolfe springs from the bed and races over to the window.

Crack!

The distinctive fire of a gun goes off and someone starts screaming. Oh Lord, did the police find us? Please tell me I’m safe. Please tell me this nightmare is over.

“Fuck,” Wolfe growls and turns toward the door just as it bursts open off its rusty hinges and pieces of it explode into the room like a mini bomb went off.

Ryan rushes inside just as Wolfe grabs his pistol. The two of them stand off, face-to-face, guns pointed at each other’s heads. I can see the skinny man lying on the ground outside in a pool of his own blood. Is he dead?

I don’t care if he is. There’s only one thing I care about and it’s the man who just broke down a door to save me. And right now, there’s still a very good chance he’s going to die.