Chapter 7
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QUINN MOANED, THE THROBBING in her head making her feel queasy.
Dazed. She shifted slightly, a rough fabric scraping her cheek.
Why was she lying down in the dark on a hard, scratchy surface?
Her entire body ached. She suddenly bounced, the motion making her feel even worse.
Blinking, she tried to remember what had happened. To figure out what was going on.
Had she gone back to her apartment?
No. She wasn’t in her bed, and something sharp was poking into her back.
As she bounced again, Quinn’s hands shot out, hitting something metal.
What the hell?
Suddenly, it all came crashing back. The man she’d spotted walking down the street. The alley. His hands on her neck as he choked her to unconsciousness. Quinn realized too late that she never should’ve followed him.
Horror swept over her as she realized she was in the trunk of a moving vehicle. Frantically, she felt around, knowing she was right. They’d tossed her into a trunk. Bile rose in the back of her throat as panic overtook her. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be.
The vehicle bounced again, and her hands shot out once more to steady herself.
At least she wasn’t tied up.
Quinn took a shaky breath, trying to stop her racing heart.
Every second they were driving her farther away from where she’d been kidnapped. Farther away from Knox. She knew it without a doubt. If they simply wanted to kill her, they’d already have done so. They’d kidnapped her for a reason, and fresh fear quaked over her.
Feeling around blindly in the dark, she realized something was stacked behind her back. That was what was poking into her spine. She shifted awkwardly, freezing in alarm as she realized she was in a trunk with wooden crates. But were they empty or full of explosives?
She didn’t move, wincing as the car bounced again.
It would be unlikely one of the terror cell members were driving around with empty wooden crates—which meant she was locked in a trunk that could explode at any moment.
Were they planning to just—let her die? Drive the car into a building and—no. They were using self-driving vehicles. She had to get out of here.
Carefully, she shifted again, reaching for the phone she kept in her back pocket.
Horror slammed into her when she came up empty. It was gone.
Quinn felt around again, noting some random pieces of gravel.
She stretched awkwardly, as much as she could do in the confined space, and was surprised to find a pencil wedged between a crate and side of the trunk.
Grabbing it, she clutched onto it tightly.
If someone opened the trunk, it was all she had to defend herself.
An idea blooming in her mind, she wrote help on the side of one of the crates.
The team would be looking for the explosives.
Was she in a self-driving vehicle? Quinn had no idea.
But if she was taken to another location and Bravo Team found the crates before they exploded, they’d see her message.
Hopefully.
Quinn sucked in a deep breath, feeling jittery.
She needed to remain calm. Focused. Panicking wouldn’t do her any good if she wanted to escape.
What were you supposed to do in a situation like this anyway?
Kick out the brake lights? Yes. She’d read that somewhere.
Quinn shifted, trying to get leverage to kick at one.
There was barely any room to maneuver with the crates behind her.
What did they intend to do with her in the trunk? Send her right to her death?
Fruitlessly, she tried kicking at one of the brake lights. Maybe if she had room to scoot back, she’d be able to do something. Those damn explosives were going to get her killed one way or another.
The car made a sudden turn, Quinn’s head hitting the back of the trunk. She swore, fumbling around in the darkness. Wasn’t there some sort of emergency release on the trunk? Tears streamed down her face as she felt around, yanking at mechanisms and trying to jimmy the lid open, but it was useless.
The car slowed, and fresh fear bloomed in her chest.
Running out of other options, she began to scream. If they were still in the city, or anywhere near people, certainly someone would hear bloodcurdling cries. She screamed again and again, not entirely surprised when the car came to a stop.
Not a self-driving vehicle, then.
A car door slammed and footsteps came closer.
As the trunk opened, two men were suddenly grabbing her.
Quinn tried to fight as she screamed once more but was no match for them.
They easily lifted her from the trunk and placed her on the ground, Quinn scratching and clawing as they swore.
She was gagged, her hands restrained behind her back, and ankles tied together in moments.
Tears streamed down her face as she frantically looked around.
They weren’t where she expected at all. They were on the outskirts of the city, not far from a small regional airport. What was going on?
One of the men began talking rapidly on his cell, and an old pickup truck came rumbling down the road toward them. Quinn began shaking, knowing something was very, very wrong. Another man walked over, grabbing a big suitcase from the back of it, glancing between Quinn and the oversized luggage.
No.
No. No. No.
A phone began buzzing in the first man’s pocket, and Quinn watched in horror as he pulled out her cell phone. She tried to talk through the gag, frantic. If she could tell someone where she was, they could find her. Save her.
She was close. So close to making contact.
That phone was her lifeline, and they knew it. It was out of reach, and the evil men who’d kidnapped her could do anything they wanted.
Fresh tears filled her eyes, frustration coursing through her bloodstream. Quinn fought against her restraints, her efforts futile.
The man saw her desperation and chuckled, swiping the screen to read the message.
He’d already unlocked her phone, no doubt having hacked in while she was trapped in the damn trunk.
How long had she been knocked out anyway?
It was completely dark out, and that somehow made everything feel more ominous.
The man smirked as he texted a response.
Smugly, he flashed the screen at her, and Quinn’s heart dropped.
Knox: You good? Just checking in.
Quinn: Great. Heading back soon.
She stared at her phone, stunned. He’d freaking pretended to be her.
He’d texted Knox back from her own damn phone!
Knox would think she was fine as precious seconds ticked by, and the reality was anything but that.
She’d never make it back to the office, and he’d...
what? Text again? Quinn’s kidnappers could say whatever they wanted, and Knox would be none the wiser.
The first man turned her phone off, pocketing it again. “You won’t be needing this. I’m not certain it will work internationally anyway,” he said, his voice dark.
Quinn’s heart stuttered.
The other man returned with the big suitcase, unzipping it as he lay it open on the ground.
Quinn shook her head, fighting, but the men lifted her into it anyway, forcing her slender frame to fit. “Easy,” the first man said. “You don’t want to hurt yourself. We’ve got plenty for you to do when you reach your new home.”
“No,” she mouthed around the gag. “No!”
Her voice was garbled, but she didn’t care.
Quinn tried to scream again, growing more frantic by the moment.
Footsteps sounded as a third person appeared, and rough hands held her in place, pinning her inside the suitcase.
She fought against the restraints and the men, tears streaming down her face.
“Knock her out,” one of the men said, his voice harsh.
A dark cloth was pressed against her nose, saturated with a sickeningly sweet smell. Quinn shook her head, trying to fight it, but dizziness overtook her as the world faded to black.