Can't Slow Down - Lizzie Hart Stevens Page 0,2

the air conditioner full blast. It’s a hot one tonight.

Hey there, Sweet Cheeks! See you in ten!

I PULL INTO LEXI’S driveway around 7:15 p.m., shut the car off, and go knock on her door.

“Lexi! You there?”

I knock again. There’s still no answer. That’s when I look down and notice a folded note sticking out from under the doormat. I look around to see if anything looks out of place. Nothing is.

I open the note on my walk across the street to my best friend Derek’s. He lives across the street and seems to be home. Maybe Lexi is over there hanging out while waiting for me to pick her up.

I unfold the note.

If you want any chance of seeing her again bring $500,000 to the abandoned warehouses off the quarter mile. Don’t bother calling the cops. Come alone. You have until 7:30 p.m. If you’re even a minute late, the little slut will get what she deserves. Clock is ticking . . .

What the fuck?! I stop dead in the middle of the street in shock as someone just barely misses me in their car, honking their horn and screaming at me out the window. I look at my car and back at Derek’s place and then at my watch. Fuck! No time to get Derek. And they said to come alone. I only have ten minutes to get there and if I did the speed limit it would take me fifteen. No time to waste. No time to get that kind of money. I shove the paper in my back pocket and run back to my car. It’s barely started before I peel out of the driveway. That should get Derek’s attention.

My car swerves in and out of traffic. I’m blowing past stop signs, running red lights, and passing cars while drivers are blaring their horns and giving me their middle fingers. Just barely escaping an accident at every intersection. Derek calls during the chaos and I press the button on the steering wheel to answer. I don’t give him a chance to say anything.

“Meet me at the abandoned warehouses! Please! Someone has Lexi! No time to explain!”

I hang up the call just as I pull into the parking lot of the warehouses and spot a car parked next to the building at the end of the alley. Thank God I managed to avoid the cops, although I’m sure my car’s description has been called in by quite a few people after all that.

My heart is about to beat out of my chest by the time I get out of my car. I grit my teeth and crack my knuckles as I start to sweat. And then I hear the most earth-shattering scream I have ever heard in my entire life. Worse than the scream I heard from Aunt Sarah at 3:32 that night.

It’s 7:31 p.m.

WHY DOES MY HEAD hurt? It’s dark in here and it smells like old blood. My heart starts to beat hard in my chest. I’m sweating. My wrists hurt. I try to move them but I can’t. I can’t move my feet either. Panic starts to set in. Where am I? How did I get here? Why am I tied to this rusty chair? I try to scream but there’s something tied around my mouth, muffling the sound.

I hear the sound of a door squeaking followed by a slam that makes me jump, at least as much as I can jump while tied to a chair. Then footsteps that echo on the cement floor. I squint my eyes to try and make out what this person looks like, but it’s just not light enough in here and they’re still too far away.

“So you thought you could just get rid of me that easily, did you? You stupid little bitch.”

His voice gradually gets louder as he stalks closer to me. Oh my God. It’s Patrick! He’s gone completely off the deep end. The closer he gets to me, the more I can smell the strong odor of alcohol. I bet he hasn’t stopped drinking since I broke up with him a couple nights ago.

His hand grips the back of my hair and he pulls my head back hard. Tears sting my eyes but I refuse to let him know he’s getting to me. I sneer my nose and turn my gaze to the far wall. His face is so close to mine that I can feel his hot, rancid breath on my cheek. I swallow