Page 6

“Shut up and tell me where Adrian is,” the scary man demands.

“Adrian?” I repeat, racking my brain for anyone I know by that name. I come up empty, giving the man a bewildered look. “I don’t know an Adrian—”

“Don’t play stupid, little girl. I saw you two cuddled up on the plane,” he spits.

It takes me another second to put everything together. Adrian is the guy from the flight, and this man thinks I know him.

“Listen, this is all a big misunderstanding. I don’t actually know him. I just had too much wine and then—”

“Enough!” He cuts me off again. I keep my mouth shut like my life depends on it—knowing it might, actually, this time—while he seems to consider me for a moment. “I believe you don’t know where he is right now. Thankfully that’s not the main reason why I came.”

“Why did you come?” I ask, my voice slightly wobbly.

“To pick you up and take you on a little trip,” he reveals with a sinister smirk.

“I’m not coming with you,” I argue.

“You are unless you want something to happen to your beloved sister, Emily.”

Hearing her name has my blood running cold. How did this guy find me, and why does he know about my sister?

“I don’t know an Adrian,” I try again, but the guy doesn’t listen.

“Let’s go,” he urges, putting the gun in his waistband. Grabbing my arm with bruising force, he pulls me out of the room and into the hotel’s empty hallway.

Fear rises inside me as it sinks in: I was just held at gunpoint, and now I’m being kidnapped.

“Oh. My. God,” I say while being dragged into the elevator. “I can’t believe this is happening for real and not just in my head.”

“Stop talking,” my kidnapper warns. “Don’t try anything stupid. Remember, if you don’t behave, your sister is going to get hurt.”

I think he is bluffing, but I’m not willing to bet Emily’s safety on it. As the elevator descends, he switches his hold on my arm to clasp my hand. Feeling extremely uncomfortable being forced to hold hands with this man, I struggle with thinking about anything else.

We go down to the lobby, where the door slides open with a ping sound. An older couple is already waiting. I try to lock eyes with one of them, somehow signaling with my expression that I’m in danger, but they are both glued to their phones while passing us.

Discouraged, I walk alongside my captor through the casino. Bright flashing lights surround us, while slot machine sounds, laughter, and chatter fill the large space. We go by so many people, but none pays me enough attention to realize something is wrong. If I could just make eye contact with someone . . .

We get to the entrance of the attached parking garage, and a new wave of panic washes over me. Desperately, I search for a way out, hoping for someone to help me. My step falters, slowing us down.

“Move,” the guy orders, tugging on my arm.

He takes me farther into the parking garage until we get to a sleek black Tesla. There is a small sticker on the back window that reads Cruising Rental. He pulls a key from his pocket and unlocks the car.

Reaching for the passenger door, he pauses, realizing there is no actual handle to grip. There is only a metal-looking inlay, which he awkwardly taps a few times. Instead of the door opening, the window rolls down. He curses and slaps the door. Not a frequent Tesla driver, I take it. Eventually he realizes he has to push the handle in on the end to flip it out.

When the door finally opens, he shoves me into the seat, pulls two zip ties from his jacket, and proceeds to tie my wrists together. He makes a point of tightening them enough to dig into my skin. Asshole.

I let my bound hands fall into my lap when he pulls the seat belt over my torso and buckles me up. Safety first, I guess. When he is done securing me, he quickly shuts the door and walks around the car to get behind the wheel.

If I weren’t so scared, I would laugh at how he struggles with starting the car and finding where everything is.

“Maybe there are instructions somewhere?” I suggest, only to be met with an angry grunt.

I decide to let him figure it out himself without my commentary, which he eventually does. We drive out of the parking garage and onto the busy strip, where we pass Superman, Spider-Man, and Batman. Unfortunately, the heroes are busy taking pictures with tourists for tips and won’t come to my rescue.

Surprisingly, I manage to keep my mouth shut until we are out of the city. “I don’t have a boyfriend, I never have. You are making a mistake. I’m no one to this Adrian guy. I didn’t even know his name, and honestly I’m pretty sure he was really annoyed with me.”

“We’ll see about that,” he replies.