Chapter 27
Rosie leaned on the sparkling-clean bar that she’d wiped down ten times already. A handful of customers were kicked back, shooting the breeze with their bellies full. Brenda had checked on all the tables and only Gene and Howard sat at the bar.
The slow night suited Rosie just fine. She’d been distracted to the point of head-in-the-clouds obsession with Cruz. He was hers, and she wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
He’d been intense before. But now, after spilling her soul only to hear he loved her—she was in a bubble of happy delirium. Every time he wrapped her up tightly in his arms, her universe felt like it clicked into place.
Her phone buzzed in her pants pocket. Pulling it out, she grinned at the text bubble from Cruz. Didn’t matter that she only got the first few words in the notification. Anything he did made her happy. She swiped to see the entire message.
Cruz: I’m back at your house. Put the new locks on my windows.
Oh good, Rosie typed back, relieved. He spent most of his time at her place now. But the other day he’d stopped by his house and found two windows open. The same ones he’d mentioned to her weeks ago that didn’t lock. Nothing else seemed to be amiss, but it prompted him to fix them. Now no critters can get in and raid your fridge.
Cruz: They’d be out of luck.
True. All he had was a few beers and water bottles. See you in a couple hours.
Wake me up if you want. He added a purple devil face.
She sent him a kissy face and pocketed her phone. Whether awake or asleep, he would be a mountain of temptation lying there when she got home.
Deciding to check on George, she first paused by Gene and Howard. “You guys good?”
“Oh sure.” Gene grinned. “He’s losin’ so I’m real good.”
Howard grunted and shook his head.
Rosie found George at his post in front of the stove, music playing a song that was popular before she was born. As she neared she spotted a few new spices and seasonings besides the ones he used every single day. “Are you testing a new recipe?” She grabbed a clean spoon from the drawer and dipped it into the bubbling pot. Taking a bite, she closed her eyes. “Oh my gosh, this is delicious!”
“You know me, I’m always trying new things.” George grinned. “Now to decide when to roll it out—”
The oldies music and lights clicked off.
Rosie froze, the way people always do when the power goes out and they’re plunged into sudden darkness. The kitchen had no windows, but the emergency light came on over the door.
“Damn crap time for the power to go out,” George muttered. “We got five dinners roasting in the oven.”
Brenda ducked her head in. “Oh good, the emergency light is on. I’ll go talk to the customers.”
“I’ll check the office.” Rosie set down her spoon of sauce. “See if I can get to the circuit box.”
She walked into the hallway and headed all the way to the back. The circuit box was located in the employees’ room. A set of emergency lights above the back door cast thin beams of white into the darkness. She walked slowly anyway, not wanting to stumble. Almost there—
Two figures in black, wearing ski masks, leapt out of the door to the employees’ room. Fast. A cry tore from her throat.
One figure grabbed her and clamped a hand over her mouth.
The other leaned in to peer at her. “It’s her. Let’s go.”
Rosie struggled in this grip, but he was unmovable. Tall and built like a tank. She tried to make noise, kick the walls, anything. Panic shot through her. No!
She tried to bite down on the man’s hand.
He cursed and grunted. “Gimme the rag. She’s a feisty one.”
The second man passed him a cloth, which he swiftly pressed over her mouth and nose. Terror flared anew. Were they going to kill her?
She jerked back, twisted her head. An antiseptic scent filled her nose. No! No! What was this? Some chemical? She fought harder.
The second man opened the restaurant’s back door. The man holding Rosie forced her to move. She made her legs go limp and tried to slide down out of his grip.
“Fuck, you gonna be like that. Shit.” As if she weighed nothing, he scooped her up in his arms in a cradle hold and burst outside
A car sat idling right next to the door. No! Protests exploded in Rosie’s mind. Have to get away! If they take you somewhere your chances of survival drop. No!
The second man opened the rear door and the first man climbed in, not letting go of Rosie. Slam! The door shut.
He still held the rag over her mouth. She tried to bring a knee up to his face. But he ducked. “Just a few more minutes and you won’t be able to try that shit.”
Slam! The driver’s door closed and the car peeled out of the lot. Her breath was choppy, filtered through whatever was on the rag. It smelled like…nail polish? Some kind of solvent? Confusion crept in around the panic and she knew if she didn’t get out now, she might never…She tried to elbow him…and suddenly her arm felt like it weighed twenty pounds. Oh no. Can’t pass out. She needed to try to see where they were going. Try to see… She blinked as her head dropped back onto the man’s upper arm.
He chuckled and pulled off his ski mask, revealing olive-toned skin, a grizzled jaw, and buzzed dark hair. “That’s it. Nighty night.”
“No.” She thought she was saying the word emphatically, but it sounded like it came from miles away.
“Got some fight in you, huh? All right. See how long that lasts.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but then her jaw felt like it wasn’t working. Outside, the black night gave no clue to their whereabouts. She knew they’d left the Grille’s parking lot. That was all she knew, and oh god. All she wanted was Cruz. Cruz…