The Murder Games

CHAPTER 4

The door of the black limousine slams shut, and the lock thumps, sealing Cara and me in the backseat. It happened so fast. Things got real when the man aimed a gun at us. Maybe I could have broken free and made a run for it? But he had a firm grip on Cara. The man had her by the back of the neck with the gun muzzle shoved into my back, right where the rib cage wraps around. He might not have shot me if I cut and ran, but I couldn't escape without her. So, I didn't try.

Besides that, what if he pulled the trigger? A bullet blasting through my ribs, leaving an exit wound in my chest, wouldn't solve a thing. Even then, he'd still have Cara.

She whimpers, her face twisted and her eyes searching the limo for a way out of our predicament. There doesn't seem to be one. Not to mention the fact, before he took us to the car, he forced me to erase the video records of the store cameras from my laptop. With the gun rammed into Cara's side, he monitored the deletion process like a prison warden to make sure I didn't fool him. He had to cover his tracks and ours. If no one saw us leave, it might take days before anyone suspected an abduction. He also made us put our cell phones on airplane mode, took them, and then stashed them in the inside pocket of his trench coat.

I can't speak. Can't seem to siphon enough air to breathe, and my pulse thumps in my ears. Cara turns to me, and I grab her hand, glimpse her frightened gaze. I think to say something, to offer some sort of comfort but the words fail me. Even if I knew what to say, I don't get the opportunity. The glass divider separating the front and backseat lowers with a hum, stealing our attention.

The man says, "Relax. Sit back and enjoy the ride."

The glass divider glides up, separating the front from the back. His voice sounds familiar now that I think about it and there's something about his eyes that I didn't notice before, but I can't place them anywhere. It doesn't matter because, like it or not, we're along for the ride.

The engine starts and the limo begins to roll. As I stare out the window on my side, I see the city block and the lights slipping by at a decent clip. One thing I remember before he shoved us into the car was the exterior tint was too dark to see inside the vehicle. That draws my neck up with tension. If we tried to yell or wave for help, no one would see or hear us.

On her side, Cara fumbles with the lock but the controls don't respond to her frantic fingers. She bangs on the divider. The man on the other side doesn't lower the glass or answer. All I can do is settle against the backseat, feeling the despair burrow into my chest and suffocate me. While Cara comes to terms with the overwhelming odds stacked against us, I fight to breathe. I heave deep and blow it out. Close my eyes. Inhale and exhale. In and out.

When I finally catch my breath and calm my anxiety, I just sit and stare at my reflection in the glass divider. I realize I need to give Cara a chance to get control. I don't look at her or speak. Can only probe the dark corners of my mind, searching for any possibility to escape. Something. Anything to get out of this car. To get free. But nothing comes to mind. Every dark alley I venture down has no way out.

Finally, I turn to Cara. "If he was going to kill us, we'd already be dead. He told us to relax. Maybe he won't hurt us, if we do what he says?"

"Are you kidding? This has sex trafficking written all over it."

I gawk at Cara. "I don't know much about that type of crime but based on what I've heard or seen on TV, I don't think it happens like this."

"Like what?"

"Out in the open, in a public place."

"Yeah, but once all the customers left, we were alone. He could have thought it was a good time to snatch us."