Chapter 7
Willow
They were the guys she bumped into outside of K-Shop.
The light-haired one’s voice had sounded familiar and once he called her “pretty girl”, she knew. Her initial suspicion that they were trouble had been correct. Apparently, they kidnap girls and kill them in the woods.
Why would they want to kill Samantha, though? Her neighbor was soft-spoken and kept to herself. What could she have possibly done to get the attention of these two?
Whatever it was, Willow needed to make sure they didn’t get wind that she knew them. Well, sort of. She didn’t know them at all, but she knew their faces. They were only going to take her home because they thought their identities were safe.
Something about their danger was intriguing.
Even if the smart thing was to shut up and listen to every instruction, she couldn’t help prodding them.
The one guy had definitely gotten aroused when wrestling with her and then again when he’d pushed her against the van.
A sick part of her wanted it to go further and she had to scream at herself internally to not try anything.
Her entire arm throbbed viciously as they led her back into the van, bag on and breathing the hot air trapped against her face. Ugh. It was disgusting, but at least it was a break from the cold.
One of them sat next to her again as he urged her onto the floor. As the van moved, they hit a bump, jostling her hard enough that she landed on her bad shoulder.
“Fuck…” she whimpered as she sank her teeth into her bottom lip.
At least they had cranked on the heat and she was near a vent. The blast of warmth after the time outside was almost soothing. Her fingers tingled painfully so she flexed them to urge blood flow. If only she could move her arms forward. The compression in her nerves was becoming unbearable.
They drove along the gravel road for what felt like forever. She would occasionally roll into the leg of whoever was sitting next to her, but he didn’t seem bothered. If anything, she could have sworn he was moving into the contact.
The driver turned the radio on again. This time the voices were much clearer without the drug muddling her mind.
“Severe storm with gusts up to seventy-five miles per hour. You are urged to fasten down anything that may be blown away—”
“Shit,” the driver said. From the sound of his voice it was the one with buzzed hair.
The van swerved, and a hand latched onto her so she didn’t fly into something.
She thought back on what he looked like.
He was the one she’d run into—literally.
That intense gaze and curve of his lips had heated her to her core.
The “pretty girl” comments should annoy her, but for some unknown reason, she liked them.
“That was a huge branch,” the one next to her commented. Maybe it was for her benefit.
The driver snorted. “Yeah, there’ll be more. The wind is stronger here. Oh, what the fuck?”
“Is there another way out?”
“Not that I know of.” They came to a stop, the engine still running. He sighed. “I have to turn around.”
What did he mean there was no other way out?
The one next to her swore under his breath. “Cop.” He shifted next to her and she heard the click of a seat belt. Then, he jostled her around and she felt something heavy, maybe a blanket spread over her.
“Now, pretty girl,” he said softly, “no screaming. We want all this to go as smoothly as possible.” She felt an object press into her back. “Got it?”
“Yes,” she replied.
There was a crunch outside that spanned the length of the van, then the driver spoke, “Hey, officer.” Wind whipped through the open window.
“Afternoon. You’re gonna have to go ahead and turn around here. This storm’s just started and we don’t know when anyone will be out to move this tree.”
“Is there another road out?”
“No. We’ve been trying to get a road out the other way to connect to Gafford, but no one is willing to fork over the money.”
Gafford? They really were far out if Gafford was close. It was at least fifty miles north of Lakeview.
The driver sighed. “All right. Thanks. We’ll get out of here.”
“You guys have somewhere to stay?” Another gust howled against the side of the vehicle. It was getting more difficult to hear the cop, especially through the bag on her head. “It can be hard to find a vacancy here in He—”
“Yeah, we got a place,” the driver interrupted, ensuring she wouldn’t learn where they were.
Some more muffled words were exchanged before the sound of the wind was cut off by the window closing.
“Cabin?” asked the one next to her.
“Yeah.”
He scoffed. “How long do you think this will take?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know, but you heard him. There’s no other way out. Let’s stop for some supplies. Then we can figure out a game plan.”
Willow heaved herself up. “Hey, I have a cat. I can’t leave her alone for days!” They didn’t need to know about the automatic feeder, but the litter box would be a problem. She didn’t want her apartment to be covered in cat shit. Plus, Stahma wasn’t used to being alone like that.
The guy next to her placed a hand on her shoulder. “Calm down. Your cat will be fine.”
“How can you know that?” She jerked away, and clenched her teeth from the sharp pain that radiated down her arm. “You don’t even know how long we’ll be stuck here.”
Silence. Were they ignoring her? Well, fuck them. She took a deep breath, ready to give them an earful.
“You have a neighbor with a key?” the one in the back asked. “Or a friend?”
“Yeah.” It wasn’t a lie. There was an elderly lady across the hall who loved Stahma and said she reminded her of a cat she had as a child. “Do you have my phone?”
There was a pause as they drove down the bumpy road.
He reached around to press her thumb to the scanner to unlock it. “Don’t snoop,” she said firmly. There were more than a few photos they didn’t need to see. “Her name is Helen Crawley. She’s old as fuck and only has a landline.”
The bag on her head was lifted only enough to expose her mouth. Then, she heard the sound of a phone ringing on speaker.
“Hello?” Helen answered in her usual happy lilt.
“Hey, Helen, it’s Willow.”
“Oh hello, dear!”
Her heart was beating so rapidly she felt unsteady. This could be her moment to get help, but they might kill her. Shit. She couldn’t risk it. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she said, “So, there was a family emergency and I had to leave town. Could you check in on Stahma? Please?”
“Of course!” There was a sound coming through like she was gathering things. “I’ll go see the little sweetheart now.”
“Thank you, Helen. I’m not sure when I’ll be back yet. Her feeder should be full, if you clean the litter box, I can p—”
“Don’t you dare, Willow. Just let me know when you’ll be home. Hope your family is okay. I’ll take care of the little princess.”
“Thank you.”
“Uh-huh. Bye now.”
Then the line went dead. Her only shot to tell someone she’d been kidnapped and was now trapped in some random town. Since she’d taken the week off to play her stupid game, her job wouldn’t even know she was gone. The only person who would notice was Landon and he lived in fucking Costa Rica.
The bag was pulled back down over her mouth and he firmly pushed her back down to the floor.
After a few minutes, the vehicle slowed and the muffled sounds of car doors and voices drifted through the space. The store must’ve been busy.
The driver spoke. “Be back in ten. Hopefully. This place is fuckin’ mobbed.” His voice turned teasing. “Good girl for not screaming or blabbing to that old cat lady. Maybe I’ll get you a treat if you keep behaving for my friend here.”
A hand tightened on her side and the pressure from what she assumed was the gun increased.
She managed to nod and make a non-committal noise. It was enough to satisfy him because she heard the shuffle of clothing and the door shutting.
Silence settled between Willow and the man holding her hostage.
She didn’t know what to say, or if she should ask him something.
So far, they hadn’t hit her or done anything to hurt her.
Well, except the drugging and they were going to shoot her in the head.
But they could have done worse leading up to that point. She wasn’t injured at all.
Except the strain on my fucking shoulder.
But they didn’t know that. If they didn’t change her position once they were in the new location though, she would be complaining loudly. At least she had a gnarly scar to back her up.
She remembered how the one holding her had called her ‘pretty girl’. He had been gorgeous when she’d bumped into him—they both were. Now with the masks, something about them was even more alluring.
Why am I drawn to red flags like a fucking bull?
“So, why do you want to kill Sam?”
The man let out a long breath, but said nothing.
“She doesn’t seem very dangerous.”
“Stop talking.”
Willow moved to get into a better position and accidentally rubbed against what felt like his leg.
He quickly shifted away. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to get fucking comfortable. And you’re warm compared to the floor.”
The man huffed, but after a second moved his leg against her. She hadn’t been lying, the warmth was nice. With the engine off, the chill was seeping through the cracks in the doors.
It was strange how he responded so quickly. Maybe she could use his apparent attraction to her advantage.
The front door opened and shut in a rush. The driver said some words to the man next to her about the supplies he’d bought—food, lights, batteries, and so on.
They were surprisingly docile for murderers. And now that she’d managed to get one to give her a sliver of comfort, she couldn’t help but wonder how far she could bend them.