Run For Your Life

Chapter One

My feet pound on the dirt trail through the park and my ponytail slaps behind me.

My legs feel strong. Lungs clean and sharp.

The park was always so quiet this early in the morning, and I loved when the city was still fast asleep.

That special moment when the world hovered between darkness and light and the streets were mine alone.

I’d worked out all my kinks in the first mile and settled into my rhythm now.

My thoughts unwound the way they always did as the miles fell away underneath the soft scrape of my shoes.

This was my favorite part of the day—the part where nobody needed anything from me.

I pictured Oliver curled up snug in his bed at home with his nose tucked underneath his paws the way he always did whenever he was sleeping hard.

He’d barely opened his eyes when I slipped out of the house before sunrise.

I promised him a long walk around the neighborhood after I got home from work tonight.

I inhaled deeply, letting the morning stillness anchor me before looping back home. I cut past the restroom breezeway and quickly glanced left for coyotes. There’d been two sightings already this summer. A rustle in the bushes made me speed up, but it was probably just a squirrel.

Suddenly—crack!

Something slammed against the back of my skull.

A burst of white light.

The world tilted sideways, then vanished underneath me.

Colorful flashes detonated behind my eyes. A metallic ringing filled both ears and pulsed through me. My brain shrieked: Run!!!

But I couldn’t move.

Or scream.

A gag cut deep into the corners of my mouth. It was sour and filthy, like a dirty sock jammed down my throat. My wrists were cinched tight behind me. The rope bit into skin. My legs were pinned. Tied at the ankles.

Raw terror surged through me. I thrashed against my restraints. Pain exploded down my spine, sharp and electric, so intense I thought I’d puke or pass out. Maybe both. Sweat poured from me, acrid and thick.

The truck jostled and roared. My body wedged against the rattling metal. Each bump sent more splintering pain through my head. The overpowering stench of gasoline and old grease crawled up my nose.

I was moving.

That meant something.

Pay attention, Riley. Think.

But I couldn’t.

It was impossible trapped in the pitch-black belly of a truck, and being tossed around like cargo. The tires hummed beneath me, sending more nausea straight through my chest and into my throat. I couldn’t stop spinning.

What’s happening?

The world blurred at the edges. Everything fuzzy.

I was just running. Sliding into my fifth mile. It was Tuesday. I was supposed to meet Jill for coffee before work. My mind struggled to catch up with this terrifying reality.

It all happened so fast. One second, I was settling into my stride, and in the next, a blow to the back of my head from out of nowhere. Then, total darkness.

The memory made my skull split all over again. Mind-numbing agony burning behind my eyes, beating in rhythm with my heart. This is happening. Really happening.

I’m being kidnapped by a monster.

What do I do?

Oliver’s face flashed in front of me.

Sweet Oliver.

I fell in love with him the moment he smiled at me from behind his cage at the animal shelter in Pomona.

He sits in front of the door at four o’clock every afternoon, waiting patiently for me to walk through at 4:10.

He starts twirling circles and pawing at the door the moment he hears my key in the lock. What will he do if I never come home?

I have to come home.

Period.

My mom’s voice rises up inside me. The one that used to whisper be strong when the kids teased me in elementary school for my mangled words that I couldn’t pronounce right when we read out loud in class.

Who helped me pick up the pieces of my broken heart after my boyfriend left me for my best friend on prom night senior year.

That held my hand while we buried my grandmother.

I’d survived all that. I would survive this.

Except panic didn’t care about promises. Not mine or anyone else’s.

It roared through me. Flooding every single nerve and choking out all reason.

Still.

I knew one thing with absolute certainty.

No matter what—I wasn’t going to let him win.