Page 31

REN

Eastern Massachusetts

T he morning sun was shining through the passenger window as the Audi hit a pothole, and Stella’s unconscious body thudded into the footwell in the back seat. She groaned, and Ren chuckled.

“You fucking asshole,” she moaned.

“I made an executive decision.”

He watched in the rearview mirror as Stella hoisted herself back into the seat. Newton snuck through the space between the front seats and greeted Stella with a lick.

“If you think I can’t escape the second you stop for gas, you underestimate my abilities.”

“It’s an EV, and I do have your ring, which you kindly informed me still has one dose left.”

“Don’t drug me again.”

“Then behave.”

With bound wrists, she lowered the window and took several deep breaths as the dog settled beside her.

“There’s a trash bag in the seat pocket if you need to puke.”

“Relax. It’s not my first time being roofied.”

The simple statement boiled in his gut as Ren imagined Stella helpless and in danger.

She interrupted his dark thoughts. “Did you ever stop to think I wanted to separate to keep you safe?”

“Honestly? Not once.”

“We can be tracked.”

“This car is a ghost.”

“Not the car, you idiot.”

Ren glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Stella jerk her chin to her back. “I have a device implanted.”

“Shit.”

“Indeed.”

Ren pulled the car onto the shoulder. After retrieving a small case from the truck, he opened the back door and got in beside her.

Stella eyed the first aid kit. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think?” He withdrew a scalpel from its sealed package.

“What kind of a first aid kit has a freaking scalpel?”

“Relax. I’m a medic.”

“You’re a SEAL and a medic?”

“Yes. I can break every bone in your body and name them while I’m doing it.”

“Fine. Top of my shoulder. There’s an injection scar.”

After situating a reluctant Newton in the driver’s seat, Ren ran two fingers along Stella’s upper arm. If he was secretly pleased with the goosebumps he caused, he didn’t show it. Stella looked out the window without a sound or even a wince as Ren made quick work of the tracker.

“Smash it.”

“Nah, I’ll toss it in the bed of a pickup at the next stop. Send your buddies on a little adventure.” He winked.

“Whatever.”

“I’m going to stitch this just to be safe,” he said.

“Okay.”

Ren tied off the second stitch and patted the injury with unnecessary force. “Good as new.”

“I have to pee.”

He tugged on her bonds. “How’s your balance?”

“Exceptional.”

Stella marched over to the high grass beyond the road, and Ren sat in the front passenger seat to clean the scalpel. She emerged from the weeds, fumbling with her jeans, when the sound of tires crunching gravel turned their heads.

“Shit,” Ren muttered as he got out of the car.

“Seems to be the word of choice for this road trip,” Stella said.

Ren stepped in front of Stella, blocking her tied hands. “Don’t say a fucking word.”

“Everything okay here?” A barrel-chested trucker in a tattered cowboy hat spat tobacco juice over his shoulder as he walked to their car.

Ren gave the man a dismissive wave. “Fine, thanks for stopping. Just a little car sickness.”

The man eyed Ren and tried to peer around him.

Stella thrust her bound wrists out to the side and shouted, “You have to help me! This man kidnapped me!”

Ren muttered, “Shit.”

“Again with the shits,” Stella whispered.

Before he could offer a believable explanation, the trucker had a gun pointed at Ren. “All right, buddy. Step away from the vehicle and get on your knees in the grass.”

Ren closed the car door to keep the dog contained and raised his hands. “All right, let’s take it down a notch. This is a misunderstanding.”

The man followed Ren’s movements with the weapon. “Looks crystal clear from where I’m standin’.”

“Stella, please,” Ren implored.

Stella turned to her rescuer. “You’ve got to help me. He’s unhinged.”

Ren shouted, “It’s not what it looks like. You’re making a mistake.”

“Well, then I’ll get this little lady to the cops, and I’m sure they can clear everything up. Now toss me your key fob, nice and slow.”

Ren complied as Stella scrambled over to her semi-driving savior. Standing side-by-side, the pair faced him.

“On your knees in the grass now,” the trucker repeated. “Or I’ll hurry you along with a bullet in your ass.”

Ren watched as the man stepped back and scanned Stella’s body, his eyes lingering on her backside.

Stella climbed into the passenger seat of the truck’s cab.

Keeping the gun trained on Ren, the trucker backed over to the driver’s seat.

Then he threw the key fob into the weeds, hoisted himself up, and started the semi.

Ren raced to the passenger door and slammed his fist on the cab as they drove away.

When the eighteen-wheeler was on the road, Ren watched as Stella stuck her bound hands out the window and waved goodbye.

Stella

S tella watched Ren pound the side of the trailer, then disappear into the dust and distance.

A minute later, they were barrelling down the highway while the trucker sent a text.

“What are you doing?” Stella asked.

“Oh, nothin’. My kid sent me a video of a bullfrog that swallowed a firefly, and you can see the thing flashing inside him. It’s hilarious. Take a look.” He set the phone in the console with the clip playing.

She held up her bound wrists. “Can you untie me?”

“Oh, shoot, of course. I got clippers in the tool chest. I’ll get you free as soon as we get to safety.”

Stella glanced out the window as they drove past an exit peppered with fast food and gas stations. “I appreciate your help. You can drop me at the next gas station, and I’ll call a friend.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t feel right about it. One of my favorite diners is about twenty miles up the road. We’ll get you a decent meal, and you can call someone. It’s also next to a highway patrol station if you want to file a report.”

She started to protest again, but the driver cut her off. “Best huevos rancheros I’ve ever eaten, and I’ve been all over. You gotta like spicy, though. If you don’t care for hot peppers, I’d recommend the pancakes—very fluffy.”

Stella glanced at the phone resting in the drink holder. The frog video was playing on repeat. Then, a text notification dropped from a contact named Jed: “Be there in twenty.” The words were punctuated with a peach emoji.

When she looked up, the cowboy was staring at her with a rotting grin. “That husband of yours needs to learn how to keep a woman in line.”

Stella couldn’t get her tied hands up fast enough to block his meaty fist, and a moment later, everything went black.

S tella regained consciousness as she fell from the semi’s passenger seat onto a concrete floor. The building had an open garage door that looked out onto a junkyard. She was surrounded by shelves crammed with car parts, spray-painted black windows, and three pairs of boots.

“Emmett, you’ve outdone yourself.”

“No crackhead hitchhikers today, gentlemen.”

A glob of brown spit landed next to Stella’s head. “Where did you find her?”

Her savior laughed. “Tryin’ to get away from her abusive husband.”

“That is priceless,” the other man said.

Stella pushed to her hands and knees and took a few deep breaths.

“Damn, I like that position. Stay just like that, sweetheart.”

“Don’t rush things, Pete. We got all night to play with her.” The cowboy delivered a fierce kick to her ribs, and Stella fell onto her side. These assholes were starting to piss her off.

The third man chimed in. “This one looks feisty.”

The cowboy agreed, “Just how we like ‘em. This is a rare peach, boys.”

Stella had had enough. With a lunge kick to the knee, she dropped the second man.

With half a scream out of his mouth, Stella throat-punched him with her bound fists, then smashed her elbow into his nose.

After slicing her binds with the knife sheathed on his belt, she popped from her knees to standing.

“What the fuck?” the third man said.

The cowboy, Emmett , pulled his gun. “You’re gonna pay for that, Princess.”

“Bring it on, fatass. I guess you need a gun to fight a girl.”

He chuckled. “That ain’t gonna work. Now, drop the knife.”

With expert precision, Stella launched the blade, hitting him directly in the right bicep and causing Emmett to drop the pistol.

She dove for it, but the quiet third man kicked it across the room, where it spun to a stop under a shelf.

Stella had just resumed a fighting stance when she felt the unmistakable jolt of a Taser. She crumpled to the floor, convulsing.

When the electric shock had faded, the cowboy had the knife out of his arm and was tying her wrists to two dangling chains hanging against the side wall.

Stella shook off the cramping pain and rethought her strategy.

The quiet one was helping the guy she took out.

Her legs were free. If she could get the knife away from this asshole, she could take both of them out.

Then she’d steal the Mustang parked out front and get the hell out of here.

She wouldn’t worry about DNA or fingerprints.

Nobody was reporting this. The thought of these men continuing to harm women made her sick, but she had to save her own skin.

Whatever happened next, she would never stop fighting.

The injured man limped over. “Tie it tight, Emmett. And guard your nuts.” He pulled a cigarette from the pack in his breast pocket and lit it.

Emmett noticed her dangling feet and finished securing her arms from behind her. Still fighting the residual tremors, Stella tested her bonds. The three men converged.

REN

R en flew down the highway, splitting his attention between the cars and the blinking dot on his phone. Even with the air tag on his key fob, it had taken him ten minutes to find the damn thing in the mud and weeds.

He blew out a breath and tried to control his frantic heartbeat. He needed to find Stella. If the truck driver was well-intentioned, Stella would vanish.