Page 36 of Ruthless Prince

“What about mydetail?”

“Um… I don’t know. Maybe they’re clearing the street foryou?”

“They only pre-emptively clear everything if my Mom is around. Besides, they wouldn’t just abandon me like this. Something must’ve happened tothem.”

“Do you want me to call someone for you? I can use the landline to do it so we can stay on the phonetogether.”

“Yeah. Good idea. If you just—” I was about to give her a number to call when a singular streetlamp flared to life across the street, illuminating a dark van. Two tall men wearing black and red Venetian masks stood beside it, facingme.

I froze. “What the fuck is going on?” I whispered, more to myself thanSimone.

Was this real, or was I having another anxiety-induced hallucination? I couldn’t tell. It certainly felt real, but I knew from experience that my other hallucinations felt exceedingly realtoo.

I blinked, hoping the men and the van would be gone when I opened my eyes, but they weren’t. I swallowedhard.

“Willow!” Simone said. “What’shappening?”

“I see a van. Masked men. I… I don’t know what…” My voice cracked, cutting off mysentence.

“I’m calling the police,” she said, urgency rising in her voice. “Whatever’s going on… just run. Okay?Run!”

Her tone was enough to snap me out of my terrified trance. I took off down the sidewalk as fast as I could, spurred on by floodingadrenaline.

I didn’t make it far. Another masked man stepped out from a dark recess in a building on my right and blocked my path. I tried to dodge around him onto the empty road, but he was much faster. He grabbed my coat and started pulling me toward the blackvan.

The terrified cry torn from my throat was barely audible as a thick dark bag covered my head. Unseen hands gripped my arms, pinning them behind my back so they could snap zip ties around my wrists, and I heard the side door of the van sliding open at the sametime.

The men holding me shoved meinside.

Then they slammed the doorshut.

8

Willow

“This isn’t real.This isn’treal.”

I whispered to myself as I lay prone on the cold van floor, trying to calm my racing pulse. This had to be another hallucination. Or a nightmare. I’d had a lot of them since my psychotic episode; whole nights of twisted-sheet tossing and turning as images of dark-clad men and skull masks played out in mydreamscape.

“Thisisreal,sweetheart.”

A deep voice spoke from somewhere to my left. My throat closed with fear, and for a brief moment, the only thing I heard was my blood rushing in my ears. “No…”

“Yes. You need to calm down. No one’s going to hurtyou.”

My heart hammered in my chest as I shook my head with disbelief, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes onto the dark bag over my head. “Who are you? Where are you takingme?”

“I can’t tell youthat.”

My thoughts started skidding off in all sorts of hysterical directions, and my blood ran cold. Of course this was real. I was one of the president’s children. That made me a prime kidnappingtarget.

They could ransom me for millions. More, even. Or maybe they didn’t want money. Maybe they just wanted to hurt me to carry out some sort of sick revenge on America. A lot of countries out there hated ourgovernment.

Sickness bubbled up in my throat, and I felt like I might pass out from terror. Then I remembered something Dr. Monroe said to me during my first session with him.You’re much stronger than you think, Willow. You don’t have to live your life conquered by your fears. Fight them. Take your lifeback.

He was right. I didn’t have to give up and take this, and I wouldn’t. Fuck these terrorist assholes, whoever the hell they were. They might overpower me eventually, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for them. No, I would make their lives as hard as possible. Fight them until the bitterend.

I screamed and kicked my legs out, trying to find a target to aim my fury at. I heard a pained grunt as one of my feet connected with what was probably a shin, and the same man who’d spoken a moment ago let out a sigh. “Restrain herlegs.”