Page 17 of The Immortal's One
I glance back. A whimper claws out of my throat.
It's the three men. They’ve spread out around the parking lot, using their bodies as barricades to prevent my escape. Every muscle in my body is tight, and every brain cell in my head refuses to think. I don’t know what to do.
“What do you want?” I sound far braver than I feel. I’m still holding onto the hope that these men don’t want to engage with a defiant target. “Get away from my car!”
The massive man doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes a step in my direction.
“Stop!” I yell, hoping someone on the nearby street will hear me. “Don’t come any closer!”
A cold smile crawls over his face.
The keys slip in my sweaty palms. With all my might, I heave them at the man's face.
Then, I run like hell.
Take the car. I don't care.
My heart pulses quicker than my desperate footsteps. I'm a fast runner, light on my feet, but I stumble as the gravel shifts beneath my boots, sharp edges slowing my pace.
My legs burn. I weave out of parked cars, zig-zagging through the parking lot.
Have I lost them?
I'm near the street. I round the bed of a large white truck, tasting escape. The reek of alcohol and cigarettes hits my nose before I see him.
Instead of freedom, I've run right into his trap.
"Gotcha."
I try to scream, but a grimy hand slams over my mouth. A scrawny man forces me to turn around and then wraps his other hand tight against my chest.
“I’ve got her,” he calls out.
I thrash and kick. His hold only grows tighter.
“Nice job, Jynx.” Three other men appear. The massive one is the one who speaks. “Now, let’s bounce before someone sees us.”
Bad breath jerks me backward. The men in front follow, blocking me from sight should anyone walk by as I’m dragged between cars.
Kayla and Josh!
Where are they?
No one is going to know what happened to me.
I drag my heels and attempt to drop my weight to buy more time. The man lifts me easily. The hand covering my mouth squeezes my cheeks, pressing my teeth into the soft tissue.
“Fight me again, and I’ll knock you out.” The violent undertone in his growl tells me he means it.
I open my mouth wide and clamp my teeth around the fleshy part of my captor’s hand. I bite down. Hard.
Gasoline and dirt fill my nostrils and coat my tongue. I gag but ignore the urge to spit.
The man howls and tries to pull away.
I bite down harder and grind my teeth. The metallic taste of blood floods my senses.
The grip around my chest loosens slightly. “What the fuck!”
