Chapter 44
Gray
I wake up in the pitch black with a hum in my ear as my body vibrates. My head pounds, and I try to reach back to feel for a lump where the pain is more concentrated, but two things become immediately clear.
The first is that my whole body is in pain from being tased. I’m shaky, and every muscle is sore. My jaw hurts from clenching it shut, and I wonder if I wet myself, but I can’t tell.
The second thing I realize is that I’m in a small, enclosed space. The humming and vibrating suddenly makes sense as it hits me I’m in the trunk of a car.
Instant panic grabs me. The first time I had an MRI, I started hyperventilating and the technician had to pull me out, then send me back in with my eyes closed so I didn’t see the walls close in around me.
Knowing that I’m shoved in the trunk of the car of a psycho who broke into my house and left flowers on my bed kicks that claustrophobia into high gear.
I can’t breathe, and I take in big gasps. The air tastes stale and devoid of oxygen, and I let out a whimper as I push my limbs out to test the limits of my space. I don’t have much room at all. Or at least, that’s how it feels.
It’s also cold. I left my jacket in my car in the parking garage, and while we’ve hit a relatively mild spell as far as New England winters go, the cold is settling in my body. If we have far to go, I’ll freeze to death in this trunk.
I try to force myself to calm down. Having an anxiety attack isn’t going to help.
I inhale deeply, and the faint smell of Ash wraps me in its embrace.
I was pressed up against him at the arena, and I’ve never been more grateful to be anointed in sweat.
It makes my shirt smell like him, and I feel my heartrate come down as the reminder of him calms me.
Alright, Gray. Get it together and think.
I feel around for my phone, but it’s not in my pockets. I can’t call for help, but at least my hands and feet aren’t bound. Maybe if I focus on the positives, I won’t have a complete mental breakdown.
Ha! Look at me staying positive. If Celena could only see me now, she’d be so proud.
Then I remember that all cars made after a certain year have a release inside the trunk that will open it. I don’t recall what kind of car Barry drives, but I’m banking it was new enough to have a trunk release.
I feel around but realize I’m facing toward the back and need to roll over. I’m not sure I have enough room to maneuver, so I swing my legs up and around carefully. The trunk is roomier than I expect, and soon I’m facing the right way.
I slide my hand forward, and it lands on something thin and metal. I pick it up and feel along the object. It’s maybe an inch wide and a couple feet long with a plastic handle on one end.
My brain struggles to translate what I feel into an image, but it comes to me a few seconds later.
It’s a Slim Jim for unlocking cars. I’m at a loss for why Barry might need it until the answer hits me upside the head.
My house has older windows, and the thin metal tool can be used to slip between the two parts of the window to pull the latch open from the inside.
I even had to do it once a few years ago when I accidentally locked myself out.
That’s how the son of a bitch got into my house.
I start feeling around to find the trunk release, but I have no idea what I’m looking for.
I’ve seen pictures of a plastic pull, but based on the car, I could be looking for a latch, switch, or button of some kind.
I continue to fumble around in the dark when I finally feel something right in front of me in the center of the trunk.
If I squint, it looks like it might be glowing a faint florescent green, and I remember that these release latches are supposed to glow in the dark so they’re easier to find.
The car comes to a stop just as I put my fingers on the latch. It feels like a piece of plastic I need to pull to the side. The car shuts off, and the blood ramps up in my veins as fear grips me. Do I pull the latch now and run for it, or do I wait for Barry to open the trunk and try to fight him?
Instinct makes me pull the latch, and the trunk pops open. I squint now that there’s more light, but it’s night, so there’s not much. I fight the soreness and jitteriness in my limbs and launch myself out into the cold air. I stumble but manage to stay on my feet as I start to run.
“Hey!” I hear Barry yell behind me, but I don’t bother to look back. He didn’t seem like he was in great shape. Let’s see if he can catch me.
The ground near my feet explodes as a gunshot goes off, and I freeze.
“Move another inch, and the next one is in your back,” Barry says.
I don’t move. My entire body is shaking now, and I’m not sure how I’m managing to breathe. I’ve never been this scared in my life, but I have to calm down and get control of myself, or I’m a dead woman.
“Turn around and come back,” Barry says.
I raise my hands and do as he says. I see we’re pulled off on the side of the road with woods on both sides. Other than the occasional streetlight further down the road, there’s nothing.
Barry motions into the woods with the gun, some kind of revolver. “Start walking.”
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Somewhere it will take them a while to find you,” he says.
My stomach hits the ground. “You…you’re going to kill me?”
“Walk,” he says, ignoring the question.
I start walking into the woods as slowly as I can. I have to stall. I have to find an opportunity to run. I have to leave a trail.
I drag my toe in the dirt as casually as I can. If someone comes out this way in the near future, hopefully the scuff will still be there.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask. “What did I ever do to you?”
“I liked you,” Barry says. “A lot. And I thought you felt it too.”
“We had one date,” I say in disbelief. “And honestly, I’m not sure how you thought we connected. It didn’t feel awkward to you?”
“Maybe a little,” he says. “But that’s because you didn’t give it a chance. You didn’t give me a chance. No one does.”
To be fair, he’s right. I didn’t give him much of a chance, but I also don’t owe him anything, and certainly not my life.
“I thought maybe you just needed some time to get back into dating since you said you’d just started again,” he says, “but then I followed you to that club a few weeks later and saw you practically having sex on the dancefloor. You crumpled up the note I left on your car that night without even reading it.”
I recall the piece of paper I found on my windshield when Ash escorted me back to my car at the casino.
“I thought the note was one of those advertisements people leave on windshields. The last time I got one of those, it was for a psychic reader,” I say as I nearly stumble over a rotted tree branch.
Then something clicks into place. “Wait, you were at the club? Were you the one who took the video of me and Ash?”
“Yeah,” he says, disgust in his voice. “I uploaded it to one of the discussion boards I’m on for other guys like me who’ve been unfairly passed over by women, and someone sent it to the media. I just wanted to show people what a slut you were.”
My anger spikes, but I rein it in. Fuck what this asshole thinks of me.
“You refused to let me pick you up for our date, but you let him pick you up,” Barry says. “I saw it on the news a couple days later. Were the two of you already together when you went out with me?”
“Of course not,” I say. “I knew Ash already, but we weren’t dating yet. It…we didn’t exactly plan to get together.”
“And the rose petals and note I left for you meant nothing?” he asks.
“You mean the rose petals you broke into my house to leave?” I snap back at him as we walk. “What made you think I’d like that? That I wouldn’t find it completely creepy?”
He scoffs. “Isn’t that women’s thing nowadays? I watch BookTok. You all want your own personal stalker.”
I glance back at him. I’m shivering, both from fear and cold, but that observation sends more hot anger down my spine.
“Are you serious? Do you really not understand the difference between fiction and reality?” I ask as I nearly trip again.
I take the opportunity to leave another long scuff in the dirt.
“Books are an opportunity for people to safely experience something extreme. My friend loves horror as a genre, but that doesn’t mean she wants to be hacked to death by an axe murderer or hunted by a monster wielding a chainsaw. ”
There’s silence behind me, and I look around desperately. We’re surrounded by trees, but I’m not sure they’re dense enough to provide cover from gunfire if I run for it. Still, I can’t let Barry push me too far into the woods. The further we get from the road, the more screwed I am.
I make a decision and turn to face him.
“Turn around and walk!” he yells, waving the gun at me.
I shake my head. “No. You want to kill me, do it here. I’m not going to save you the trouble of dragging my body further into the woods.”
He raises the gun more, but his hand shakes, and I dare to hope he doesn’t have it in him to pull the trigger.
“Did you even think about contacting me when you saw the note and rose petals?” he asks.
“I never saw them,” I say. “Ash found them first and got rid of them.”
He makes a noise of disgust and drops the gun a little so it’s no longer pointed at my chest. “Of course he did.”
“How would I have known they were from you anyway?” I ask.
“I signed the note,” he says.
I frown as I think back. “Ash showed me the note later on. There was no name on it.”
He pauses. “Yeah, I initialed it.”
I shake my head. “No initials.”
There’s another pause before he lets out a growl of frustration.
“You used the Slim Jim to get my kitchen window open,” I say. I need to keep him talking as long as possible until I figure out a plan. “Ash had someone watching the house. How did you keep from being seen?”