Chapter 30
Kat
Iawoke in darkness, my head spinning. When did I get on a boat? I tried to straighten my legs but came up against a hard wall. What the hell? I tried to sit up, only to hit my head on another hard wall. And then I remembered.
Ivan. The drugs. The trunk. Fuck.
My head swirled, and my eyelids became heavy. Maybe another nap would help.
***
I woke again, this time feeling slightly better. My stomach growled. How many hours had it been?
The car wasn’t moving, but I had no idea how much time had passed or where we were. Ivan could have gotten a room in a hotel and left me in the trunk for all I knew.
I vaguely remember pulling over and Ivan letting me out to relieve myself. While he watched. The fucking asshole. Then he made me drink more.
I should never have left Atlantic Shores.
This wouldn’t have happened if I’d just stayed by Dad—and Mav’s—side.
But I ran off, chasing the independent life I thought I needed.
Fat lot of good that would do me. Would anyone even realize I was gone?
Doubtful. I wiped a tear from my cheek. My job would assume I’d stayed in North Carolina.
And then probably fire me for leaving them in the lurch.
Mav already assumed I was heading to the job, and I’d screwed that up enough that even if he did reach out, my nonresponse wouldn’t sound any alarms.
And Dad. Another tear fell. Did he remember that he had a daughter today? But that was my fault, too. If I’d been there for him over the years like Mav had, he’d remember me too.
I cried for several minutes, drowning in self-pity. Not surprisingly, when I finally stopped, my situation was exactly the same.
Fuck this shit. You are a boss bitch. A few weeks of relying on others had spoiled me. Made me forget all the years I’d taken care of myself. Granted, I’d never been in a situation this dire, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t succeed. I took a deep breath. I just needed a plan.
Step one, get out of the fucking trunk. This was a brand new model, so it had to have a trunk release.
I reached out and felt along the top of the trunk until I found the lever.
Score! I was tempted to hop out right that second, but I could hear voices, and until I knew for certain they didn’t belong to my kidnapper, I’d wait.
Step two, take out Ivan by any means necessary. I scooted to the side and lifted up the carpet. There had to be a jack or something in here. I searched the crevices below, and my hand felt something heavy and metallic. Not a jack, but something even better. Thanks, Dad!