Page 61 of Unburied

He could be overbearing and a little arrogant, but a huge part of her acknowledged that she wouldn’t have looked at him twice if he weren’t. She wanted a strong man who knew what he wanted out of life and would do whatever it took to get it. She didn’t need him to take care of her, but she loved that he wanted to look out for her and keep her safe. She loved the way he babied her, and she loved returning the favor. He was everything she could ever ask for in a man and more.

Her car came into sight, and she used the key fob to unlock the doors. The tail lights flashed twice, the faint red glow illuminating the space around the car. She rounded the rear bumper and stifled a shriek of surprise as a black figure moved toward her in the space between her car and the SUV parked next to her.

Immediately, she tried to backpedal, but the man was on her before she had a chance to move or yell out for help. The matte black barrel of a pistol gleamed in the moonlight as he lifted it toward her. Her heart skipped a beat, and her breath stalled in her chest as her gaze locked on the deadly weapon, unable to look away.

“Don't make a sound,” the man commanded with a low growl.

Oh, God. Every muscle in her body trembled violently as she lifted her hands placatingly. “Please, I'll give you whatever you want⁠—”

“Shut up,” he snapped, jabbing the pistol her way.

A soft yelp left her throat, and she flinched as her keys slipped from her hand. They hit the pavement with a soft jingle, the sound ricocheting like a gunshot in her ears. Keeping the pistol pointed at her, the man stooped down and scooped them up. Her gaze swept over him as he slowly stood. Every inch of him was covered from head to toe in black. A ski mask covered his face, except for the holes revealing his mouth and two dark eyes.

One black gloved hand palmed her key fob and pressed a button. From behind her, she heard the trunk release and pop open. “Back up.”

Hands lifted slightly in front of her, she slowly did as he asked, shuffling toward the back of the car.

“Get in the trunk.”

Her gaze darted toward the trunk, then back to him. She couldn't get inside. If she did, she was dead for sure. Her mind seemed to slow down as she fought to figure out what to do. The idea of being kidnapped and tossed in the trunk had seemed inconceivable the day that Mason had come up behind her in the grocery store parking lot. Now she wished she’d paid closer attention. Her thoughts scrambled, and her feet remained frozen to the asphalt.

“Get in!” The man gestured with the gun toward the trunk, and she took advantage of the split-second distraction. Thrusting upward, she drove the heel of her palm into his nose. Her purse slipped down her arm and hit the ground with a thud, but she paid no attention as she threw herself into action.

He let out a grunt of surprise and pain as he stumbled into the SUV behind him. She took off running, zigzagging through the parking lot, weaving between cars to put as much distance between herself and her attacker as possible. Heart beating ferociously, she sprinted toward the very same bar she had just walked out of a few minutes ago.

She was gasping for breath by the time she threw the door open and dashed inside, looking around frantically. Ignoring the surprised looks the patrons inside sent her way, she launched herself toward the bar. “I need help! I… I was attacked outside in the parking lot, and I dropped my purse so I don't have a phone, and I need to call for help…”

She took a moment to drag in a breath as the bartender looked on with concern. “Can I… Can I use your phone?”

He immediately waved her around the bar and into the kitchen area. He flicked a quick look around the bar like he was searching for the man who had accosted her outside.

“You'll be safe in here,” he assured her as he led her into a small back room. “This is the manager’s office,” he explained. “Do you want me to send one of the ladies back here to sit with you?”

It took a moment for her mind to slow down and try to process the question. She appreciated the gesture, but she shook her head. “No. I just need a phone.”

He seemed to understand how rattled she was, because he kept a healthy distance between them as he moved toward a cordless phone on the desk. He picked up the handset and extended it toward her, and she accepted it with shaking fingers as he moved toward the doorway once more. He awkwardly rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “We have a back door in the alley if you could ask the cops to come in that way instead.”

She stared at him stupidly for a second, trying to make the connection. “You know.” He grimaced. “I'd rather they not come to the front and scare off the business.”

“Right.” She nodded slowly. “I'll take care of it.”

He shot her a grateful smile then disappeared, and she turned her attention back to the phone. She should probably call the cops, but she wasn't sure if there was anything they could do. The only person she wanted right now was Mason, but she couldn't seem to remember his phone number, and her brain locked up as she stared at the keypad on the phone.

Her fingers started to move, tapping in her brother’s phone number from memory. Knox would know what to do; he always knew what to do. Her entire body shook as she listened to one torturously slow ring, then another. Finally, her brother’s voice filled the line.

“Knox Castillo.”

“Knox, it's… it's me.”

“Viv?” His tone was drenched with a combination of worry and concern. “What's wrong?”

“I…” She swallowed hard, trying to remain calm, but she was sure that Knox would read right through it. “I’m at Mulligan’s Pub. Somebody came after me in the parking lot, and I⁠—”

“Are you safe?”

His tone was strong and clear, and it helped to ground her a bit. “Y-yes. I'm inside the bar in the manager’s office.”

“Did you call the police yet?”