in any minute. I try to crab-walk away from him but my back hits the wall. His long strides easily bridge the distance before I have a chance to move. He suddenly reaches down and starts pulling me up by a fistful of my hair. I desperately grab on to his wrist, the pain in my scalp bringing tears to my eyes.
My legs wobble underneath me as he lowers his face to mine.
“Please,” I plead, trying to distract him while I find my footing. Then I sharply pull up my leg, aiming for his balls, but he’s quick and I ineffectively land my knee to his thigh.
The next moment his body pins me to the wall. Revulsion ripples through me when I feel the hard outline of his erection against my stomach. When he lowers his head, I try to turn away but I can’t avoid his hot, stale breath hitting my face.
“Help! Someone!” I manage to scream before he slams my head into the wall.
“Shut up,” he hisses, drops of spittle hitting my face. “Scream again and we’ll wait for the boy. Maybe leave his body as a present for his father.”
Oh, God, please no. I press my lips together to indicate I’ll be silent.
He said wait for the boy, I assume that means he intends to take me. I know they say you should never let yourself be taken to a different location, but if it means leading him away from the people I love, I’m not going to fight him.
Not yet, anyway, because I have no intention of making things easy for him once we’re away from the house.
He brings the roll of tape up and tears off a strip with his teeth before slapping it on my mouth.
“Good girl,” he mumbles, his lips brushing my cheek and I almost gag. “I knew you’d eventually see it my way. It’ll be so good, you’ll see.”
He keeps up his muttering as he flips me around, taping my wrists together, and I try hard not to listen to his deranged words but it proves impossible.
“I knew it the first time you smiled at me. Do you remember?”
I’m pretty sure I’d never seen him until he started working at the bakery, December of last year. I must’ve somehow conveyed that because he looks up from where he’s taping my ankles.
“You will soon enough.”
For the first time in my life, I wish I were three times my size when he all too easily throws me over his shoulder. He hesitates for a moment on the front step. Hanging upside down I still recognize the store’s delivery van at the curb, the back doors open and engine running.
I bounce against his back as he jogs toward the street, unable to do much to stop the movement with my hands taped behind my back. I’m tossed unceremoniously into a large plastic bin in the back of the van, and without my hands to break the fall; I land hard on my hip.
“Hey!” I hear a familiar voice yell outside, a fraction of a second before I hear the doors slam.
Then another door slams and the van starts moving, sliding the bin around the back. I feel the vehicle veer right and hear a sickening thud before it straightens out and speeds off.
“I brought you a sandwich,” he starts talking over the noise of the engine, as if we’re having a casual conversation.
Yet all I can think of is the sound of the van hitting something. I silently apologize to Daisy or Hunter, hoping it was one of them and not Bryce, whose voice I heard calling out.
“You were sitting at your dressing table, turned your head and smiled at me. I knew right then you were meant for me.”
Dressing table? He’s talking about my room on the set. Was he part of the catering crew? I try to remember as hard as I can, but I can’t place him there. I’m embarrassed to admit over the years support crew would come and go, and I’d long stopped paying much attention.
“I sent you notes, gifts, waiting for the right time to claim you. I’d even made sure I knew where you were at all times.” He’s talking about the tracker. He must’ve planted it in my purse at some point. “So I knew when you started seeing him.” His voice gets harder as the bin slides and hits the side of the van hard when he takes a sharp curve. “I warned you then