Page 7 of Emily's Escape

If Derek were here, he’d know what to do.

Although, if Derek was with me back at the restrooms, the rest of this would never have happened.

Derek would never have let me go off to confront Kylie’s father by myself. He would have insisted on handling it, andDerek would have had the skills to quickly disarm the man if he tried pulling a gun on him.

Not me, though. As soon as I saw the gun, I froze.

Which was stupid, in hindsight. What I should have done was shout for help or at least hit the emergency call button on my phone. But I was just so shocked.

I’d been about to head back to Derek when I noticed Kylie and her father just off to the side of the porta-potties, and there was just something about them that set my inner alarms ringing. It was in her tearful, pleading expression and the angry twist of his features. It was the way he was holding her hand, even though she didn’t look like she wanted him to.

My body was moving before I had a chance to think about it.

As I drew closer to them, I was mentally preparing for how to confront him. Politely but firmly, I’d ask if there was a problem, if I could help. I’d use some of the de-escalation skills I learned at work and hopefully defuse the situation.

But in all the scenarios I imagined, being kidnapped in the middle of a crowd wasn’t one of them.

That’s what happened, though.

I started out addressing Kylie, asking her with a kind smile if everything was okay. Then I turned to the man I later learned was her father, smile still plastered on my face, and asked if there was anything I could do to help.

That’s when everything went terribly wrong.

In a blink, his expression flipped from irritated to furious. “Go away,” he snapped. “This is none of your business.”

But the frightened look in Kylie’s eyes told me otherwise.

“I work with kids,” I replied, gesturing at Kylie. “Maybe I can help.”

The man cast a furtive glance around us. Despite the crowd, the area around the porta-potties was quiet. And the few people nearby didn’t seem to be paying attention.

Then Kylie pulled against her father’s hand. “Dad, let me go,” she pleaded. “My friends are waiting. I wasn’t even supposed to come to the bathroom on my own. I need to get back before I get into trouble.”

“You’re not leaving,” he informed her in a tone that brooked no argument. “You’re coming with me.” And before I could do anything, he pulled out a gun and shoved the barrel against my belly. “And so are you.”

As he marched us to his car, I was certain someone would stop him. Even if they couldn’t see the gun he had pressed to my side, surely, they’d realize Kylie and I were in trouble. They’d dosomething.

It’s ironic, really. All those people, and not a single one noticed.

Although, if Derek had seen us, he would have known right away.

If Derek had seen us, I wouldn’t be here now. I’d be safe with him. And Kylie would be back with her mom.

“This fucking traffic,” Kylie’s father grumbles. “This damn race fucks it up every year. One of the reasons I’m glad I don’t live in this piece of shit city anymore.”

“Dad,” Kylie whines from the back. “Please turn around. I don’t want to go to some weird new house. I want to gohome.”

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Wearegoing home.”

“It’s the wrong way,” she argues. “This is the way to gram and gramps.” A beat, and then more hopefully, “Are we going to see them?”

Before he can answer, my phone rings.

My heart leaps.

It’s Derek. I just know it.

But just like the dozen or so other times my phone’s gone off with an incoming call or text, I’m unable to answer it. All I cando is stare at my pack sitting on top of the dashboard, where my phone is tucked away inside.