Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Trevor? What is it?”
“Um, hi.”
He sounded strange. Lana was surprised he’d be calling, especially this late. They’d already spent hours together today. But maybe he wanted to apologize again about stepping out of bounds, as unnecessary as that was. She was perfectly willing to let his comments about Max go.
“What’s going on?”
Lana was halfway done packing her bag. She’d thrown in work clothes, loungewear, a few toiletries. She’d be leaving for work from Max’s, so she had to be ready to go in. It was hard to think about practicalities, though. Not when Max was on his way here.
Max loves me, she thought. Lana had been waiting so long for this, hoping, and now it was really happening. Max was hers. She couldn’t wait to see him.
But she had to get rid of Trevor first. As he spoke, she kept tossing items into her bag with her free hand.
“I found out some…new information. About the judge. Judge Vaughn. I need to tell you.”
Lana paused in her packing and stood. “Judge Vaughn? What do you mean?”
“Not on the phone. In person.”
“But Trevor.” She glanced around, trying to think. “This isn’t a good time. Can we discuss this at the office tomorrow morning?”
“No. Please, Lana. I’m here. Outside. Just come out here, and we’ll talk.”
Trevor was out of breath. It was weird.
She went to her front window and looked out, pushing the curtain aside. Trevor’s giant Mercedes was there, parked on the opposite curb from her house. What the hell was he doing here? At her house?
“You shouldn’t have come here. I don’t under—”
“Lana, please. Just five minutes. You’ll understand when I tell you. It’s important.”
“Fine.”
Max would be here any minute. He’d see her when he pulled up, and he could talk to Trevor, too. About…whatever this was. She lowered her phone, slipped on a pair of shoes, and opened the front door.
The street was quiet as she crossed to Trevor’s car. It was a beautiful night, just a hint of a breeze carrying marine-scented air. It was late enough that many of her neighbors had gone to bed or were watching TV. Blueish lights flickered behind closed curtains.
Lana reached the driver’s side door and knocked. But it was dark inside the car. “Trevor?” She leaned over to look.
There was nobody here. What was going on?
Then she heard a thumping sound. She looked around.
It was coming from the trunk.
Lana rounded the car to the back. The trunk was just barely popped open. She reached for the lid, pulled it open, and bit back a gasp.
Trevor was lying in the trunk. He had a black eye and a bloody lip. His arms were clasped behind his back.
“I’m sorry, Lana. I’m so sorry.”
Something whooshed down over Lana’s face, blocking the light.
Fabric. A bag. Someone had put a bag over her head.
She tried to scream and back up, but she bumped against something solid.
Arms clamped around her, lifting her and pushing her forward.
She tumbled into the trunk and heard the lid slam closed like a coffin.
“Lana, hold on, okay? Stay still.”
She’d been crying out for help, punching and kicking at the inside of the trunk lid. The car was driving. She felt the vibrations, heard the noise of the road.
The black fabric pulled away from her face. She could still barely see, but there was a tiny bit more light.
Trevor spit out the black hood. He’d used his teeth to grab hold of it and pull it off her.
“He made me do it. He said he’d kill me if I didn’t get you outside. I’m so sorry.”
The car rumbled beneath them. “Who is he?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Trevor was crying. She could smell his sweat in the tiny space. “He was hiding behind my car in the parking area when you dropped me off.”
Lana’s mind worked. She forced her fear aside. That was easier with Trevor here. She’d let him be afraid for them both, while she figured out how to get them out of this.
Trevor’s hands were tied, but the kidnapper hadn’t bound hers. That was his mistake. Lana searched around for an emergency release lever. Then she remembered. Trevor’s car was his pride and joy, but the thing was ancient. Too old for modern upgrades like a trunk release. Shit.
“Turn over. Let me see if I can get your hands free.”
His wrists were bound with rope. She tugged at the knot, but it wouldn’t budge.
Okay, that hadn’t worked either. But the minute the guy opened the trunk, though, she’d be kicking and clawing. She remembered what Max had told her. Go for anything sensitive. Eyes, throat, balls.
But just moments ago, when the guy pinned her arms down, she hadn’t done a thing, had she?
Despite Max’s lessons, all that practice…
It hadn’t made an ounce of difference in the real world, not with the violence of that man’s grip.
She’d frozen, just like she’d worried she would.
One single self-defense class wasn’t going to turn her into a warrior.
But that was just round one, she told herself. You’ll do better next time. You’ll be ready.
“I didn’t see the guy. Tell me what he looks like.”
“Wearing sunglasses. Even though it’s night. A h—hat,” Trevor stuttered. “He’s tall and thin.”
It had to be the driver of the car who’d come after her before.
She felt around for her phone, but it seemed to be gone. The guy must’ve taken it out of her pocket.
“But he probably works for Wayfair,” she said. Was the lawyer trying to get back at them for their visit to his office? “They’re just trying scare us. That’s it.”
“I don’t think so. He hit me really bad. This is fucked up.”
Lana forced her lungs to work. Breathe in. Out. “We need to stay calm. It’s the stalker Wayfair sent after me. It’s the same game he’s been playing all along.”
“Wayfair didn’t even know, Lana! This is somebody else. He’s going to kill us. I know it. Oh, god. We’re going to die.”
“We’re not going to die.” Max will be looking for me. He’ll find us.
Trevor kept whimpering, and the car kept moving. She could smell the ocean. It was much stronger now. They were on the coast. But where were they going? North? South?
Finally, the car pulled to a stop.
The sudden silence outside was deafening. All she could hear was Trevor’s fevered breathing.
And then, faintly, the crash of waves against rocks.
The car door slammed. The trunk popped open, and the man calmly aimed a gun down at her. “Don’t make me spoil that pretty face.”
It was the voice from the phone call weeks ago. She recognized it, though he wasn’t trying to disguise his tone anymore.
Yet it was familiar in a different way, too. Familiar in a way that sent fear rocketing through her insides, turning her bowels to water.
It can’t be. No, please.
“Turn over,” he ordered.
“No.”
“If you don’t, I’ll shoot you.”
He said this so matter-of-factly that she had to believe it. Lana rotated in the tight space so that she was face down. Trevor was sobbing beside her. The fear kept ratcheting up in her body, so she tried to sit with it and think past it.
This guy wasn’t going to kill her yet. He had something else in mind. It couldn’t be good. She’d worked with enough victims to have ample ideas of what could be coming. But others had survived terrible things. So would she. She was strong.
The kidnapper wrenched her hands behind her. Something tight cinched around her wrists. It felt like rope.
Then the man grabbed hold of Trevor’s arm and yanked him up. “Out. You first.”
Trevor blubbered. His knee dug into Lana’s back as he struggled. The man pulled him out of the trunk, and Lana heard Trevor hit the ground. She got up into a seated position so she could see out.
They were on a secluded piece of shoreline. A rocky beach, rough waves. There were no streetlights nearby. She spotted a wooden building not far away. A shack. The sky was gray, the moon visible behind clouds.
“Get up,” the man said to Trevor.
Her co-worker stood awkwardly, hands still tied behind his back. He started backing away. Lana expected the man to say something, to order him not to move. But the kidnapper just stood there in sunglasses, pointing the gun at Trevor. Almost like he was taunting him.
Go ahead. Try it. See how far you’ll get.
Then, as if Trevor had heard those exact thoughts, he ran. There was a loud pop, and Lana flinched.
Trevor collapsed onto the dirt.
The man walked over to the slumped form and shot him again. The urge to cry balled in Lana’s throat, but somehow, she kept it down.
Then the kidnapper turned back to the car, lowering his gun to his side.
“Now it’s just you and me. I’ve been waiting for this moment. I told you I’d make you mine.”
He took off his hat. His sunglasses.
She’d already known it was him. That it had to be him.
But still, she couldn’t hold back her scream.