Page 49 of Stay With Me (Griffin’s Den #2)

FORTY-EIGHT

Luna

The heat hits me as soon as I walk out of the store. After the last few days, I’m glad for a day off, even if it’ll be full of errands. I scan the parking lot and am thankful there aren’t a lot of people out and about today.

After Joe called the sheriff when they found evidence that the squatters used one of the old buildings, Joe didn’t want me going to any of the farther-away cabins by myself.

Thankfully, the construction team finished one of the cabins early, and we were able to move some reservations from the farther cabins so I could still stay on some sort of schedule without having to wait for someone to go with me.

An older van is parked really close to the passenger side of the truck.

Hopefully they’re gone before we leave. Packing up will be a pain.

Walking up to Noah’s truck, I unlock it and shimmy between the van next to us and my door. Opening the door, I lean over and grab my ChapStick before reaching into the back for Jess’s purse.

As I feel around the floor for her purse, a shadow comes over me. Before I can scream, my scalp burns when they pull my hair and put a sack over my head.

Someone with a deep voice whispers in my ear, “Don’t scream, or we will kill you. Do you understand me?”

I just nod.

I should fight. Noah has talked about how you should do everything you can to avoid being taken, but fear has me frozen, unable to do anything.

My heart is hammering in my chest as I fight for air under the cover over my head.

I hear a door open, and I’m pushed. My hands come out in front of me to stop myself from hitting the ground, but I only feel hard plastic beneath my palms.

As soon as the door closes, more voices float around me. I try to calm my breathing.

I stupidly wanted to show Noah that I could run to the truck on my own after feeling like I didn’t have a free second to myself the past few days. Despite knowing The Family was close.

How did they know we would be here?

Why now, after all these years?

The vehicle starts to move, and the whispers stop.

Before I can ask them to let me go, whoever is driving hits the gas, and I fall forward. I cry out as my face hits the floor, and the vehicle is filled with a loud noise. I scream, my hands coming to my ears. After what feels like forever, the sound stops and silence falls around me.

Goose bumps break out across my skin as someone cranks the air conditioning higher.

“It’s so hot down here. I hope we don’t stay here much longer,” someone mutters.

“Hush. We will do whatever Father tells us to do, and if that is staying here, then we will stay down here and rebuild our home.” Someone with a deep, cold voice scolds the first speaker.

That voice is one of the few I hoped I would never hear again. It’s Matthew’s best friend, Chris. I don’t know how I’m going to get out of this alone, but I hope they didn’t hurt anyone because I would never forgive myself.