Page 10

I struggle in their grasp, twisting, squirming, trying to make myself unbearable to hold, trying to become something they would rather release than keep. Stories cling to my mind of escaping, and I want to be one of them. But crying for help doesn’t work. My voice disappears into the walls that have always kept me contained.

Can’t anyone hear me?

My limbs thrash beneath their weight, sheets twisting around me as they’re pulled away, the last fragile barrier between me and whatever this is. Their faces are stoic, as if this is nothing more than a task to be completed. I’m only something to be moved from one place to another.

A sharp sting pricks at my neck. I gasp, and my body stills while my mind urges it to keep moving, to keep fighting, to do anything at all. The room begins to spin, the edges of everything blurring, darkening as the world fades.

“Please…” I whisper, my voice slipping from me.

My vision softens, colors draining like paint into water. One man lifts me, his arms firm beneath my knees and shoulders. My head lolls against his chest.

Through the blur, I think I hear my name. Asher’s voice reaches me from somewhere far away with a desperation I’ve never heard from him before.

I try to respond, but my mouth won’t move.

The last thing I see is Asher’s bedroom door, vanishing as it’s swallowed by shadow.

A low, steady rumble is beneath me. My eyes flutter open, but it takes several tries to keep them that way. Everything in my head feels distant, thoughts drifting in and out before I can catch them. I keep my body still. The instinct to remain unnoticed comes as naturally as breathing.

I’m sitting curled up in the back seat of a car, heading down a rural road in the dead of night. Tall stalks of corn zip by in the blur of the headlights, hemming us in on both sides. Gravel pings against the undercarriage in a rhythm that’s almost hypnotic. I drift towards sleep, but force myself awake again.

I risk shifting my head just enough to see past the front seats. The soft glow of the dashboard blurs in and out of focus until the numbers finally sharpen. 4:04 a.m. Only a few hours ago, I had fallen asleep in my bed.

I try to figure out where we are. Moonlight reveals miles of rolling hills topped with corn, but the thought keeps slipping away before I can make anything useful of it. In Iowa, this could be anywhere.

The two men who took me are in front. When the driver turns his head, laughing at a joke the other man made, his face makes my stomach sour. A scar splits his top lip unevenly. I hope it hurt.

My hands are bound behind my back, the plastic biting into my skin. My feet are free, thank God. When they stop, I could run. But to where? The darkness stretches on forever, and I’m certain I’ve never been this far from home.

“Headlights,” the driver says.

Bright light blooms in the rear window, growing fast.

“What do we do?” The passenger’s weaselly voice matches his face when he turns around to check the situation.

I close my eyes, breathing slowly, as if I’m still out from whatever they gave me.

“Shoot him.”

The window rolls down, flooding the car with cool night air. When the first gunshot cracks, I flinch, the sound reverberating through me until my ears ring.

The driver lifts a phone to his ear. “Boss, the brother is on our ass.”

The brother. My brother. He came for me.

Adrenaline thins some of the fog in my head. My chest heaves with a breath I can’t contain. My pulse stutters against the restraints at my wrists, and I want, more than anything, to look out the back window, to see that it’s really him.

More shots ring out. Each one lands somewhere, and I pray they miss their mark. The car jolts.

“You missed again?” the driver asks.

The gunman curses. “I can’t see! He’s got his fucking brights on!”

“So shoot out his tires!”

“Listen to me!” The voice comes from the phone, yelling for attention, then dropping too low for me to make out the words.

Everything lurches. Tires screech to a halt. My body pitches forward, then slams into the floor between the seats. Pain flares in my shoulder where I hit something hard, and I clench my teeth to stay quiet. Another jolt sends me crashing harder into the passenger seat in front of me. Metal scrapes against metal as the other car slams into us from behind.