Page 2 of Ethan
“What’s going on over there?” the woman asks, pushing me away to catch a glimpse of what’s happening.
When she looks back at me, her eyes are wide open with either fear or surprise; I’m not sure.
“Are they kidnapping that girl?” she questions.
“Listen, I need you to stay quiet. I didn’t mean to pull you in here, and I promise you won’t be in any danger.”
She stares at me.
“Screw that; we have to help that girl,” she states.
I tilt my head in confusion.
“You realize those men are heavily armed and dangerous, right?” I question slowly.
“I don’t give a fuck. I can’t just stand by while they kidnap her.”
And then she proceeds to do what has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do in my life.
“Cool gun. Let me borrow it for a minute,” she says, grabbing my gun that’s tucked into my shirt.
Before I can blink, she runs out of the alley and fires two shots at the terrorists. And because I’m even more stupid than her, I follow her out.
I’m so going to die.
Chapter 2
(Audra)
______
“Psst, Mr. Police officer,” I call, trying to get my fellow kidnapped victim to talk to me.
I woke up about twenty minutes ago. From what I can tell, I’m in a basement of some sort—tied up and a little bruised. Also tied up in front of me is the man I met in the alley, whose gun I subsequently stole. In hindsight, that was a little reckless of me.
I stepped out of the alley and fired two shots. Fortunately, one of the shots hit a kidnapper standing to the left. Unfortunately, there were way more of them than I expected. We put up a good fight. The mysterious broody man and I are lucky they decided not to kill us. After disarming me, the kidnappers knocked me out. The last thing I saw was my fellow kidnapped person, taking down one of them with a punch to the jaw.
He seems well-trained. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s in his forties or mid-thirties like me. Tall, a little slim but pretty muscular with brown eyes, curly brown hair, and olive-colored skin. He has this exotic, handsome look going on for him. He’s the kind of man I would walk past in the street and do a double-take. He’s that good-looking. I imagine a smile would do wonders for him, but there’s a huge frown on his face right now. He’s glaring at me like he might actually kill me.
“Would you please talk to me?” I say in frustration.
He scoffs. Wriggling his body, probably trying to find a more comfortable position. His hands are tied at his back, and so are his feet, stretched out in front of him. I know I should apologize for getting him into this.
“I didn’t know this was going to happen,” I start.
This time his response is a snort.
“Would you quit it?” I ask.
He finally speaks.
“I have two questions. One, what exactly makes you think I’m a police officer? Two, are you American?”
“Yes, I'm American. I’m on vacation.”
“How’s that going for you?” he questions with a smirk.
“Asshole,” I state with a sniff. “Anyway, you’re giving off a law enforcement vibe. You had a gun, and although I’m not a hundred percent sure…you were on a stakeout of some sort when I interrupted,” I say awkwardly.
