Page 118 of Committed to You

She lunges at me. “I said walk. I’m in charge. Shut your mouth, put your hands out to the side where I can see them, and walk.”

I do as she asks and walk. She directs me into the fire escape.

Please lead back to the lobby.

We walk down all eleven flights. The click of my heels is the only sound, besides Meredith telling me from time to time to hurry up.

Stay calm. Think, Vivian.

At the bottom of the stairs, Meredith spins in front of me and gets in my face. “Make sure you shut your mouth. There’s a car right outside. We are getting in that car. You’re getting in the trunk. If you say a word, this barrel goes here, and my finger pulls this trigger.” She puts the gun to my head. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I whisper, scared to move with the gun next to my head and not sure if I’m supposed to talk right now or not.

She opens the door, and we go into a small corridor then through another door that leads to the outside alley.

A red Cadillac is parked there. “Get in.” Meredith opens the trunk.

I need to get to my cell phone.

I hardly fit between the spare tire and junk stashed in her trunk, but I climb in and put my purse on the floor.

Meredith snatches my purse and slams the trunk.

Darkness, the smell of a rubber tire, and the hum of the motor fill my senses.

Think, Vivian. Think.

What the fuck was I thinking? I should have never told Royce to stay back.

The car begins to move, and a long time passes. I look at my watch. It’s 11:43 p.m.

Chase will know something is wrong when I don’t show up to his closing.

The sound of tires crushing gravel hits my ears, and we slow.

Where is she taking me?

The car stops. A car door slams shut, and silence ensues. My heart pounds faster as I wait for whatever Meredith has planned for me.

Minutes pass, and suddenly the trunk opens.

The light is bright against the white snow, and I blink to focus my sight.

“Get out,” Meredith orders me.

My limbs are cramped from the small space, and I try to get out as fast as possible, but it’s not soon enough for Meredith.

“Hurry up,” she yells and points the gun at my head.

I try to get out faster, and my leg catches. I stumble out of the trunk and fall into the snow. Cold wetness covers my body, and I lie paralyzed for a moment.

“Get up,” she screams and kicks me in the stomach.

“Stop!” I cry out and somehow manage to stand up.

“Move.” She points behind me. I turn and find a cottage on the shore of an ice-covered lake. Scanning the rest of the surroundings, my heart sinks. There are no other houses or signs of people. It’s just Meredith, me, and the gun she is sticking in my back.

I’m soaking wet from the snow, already shivering. I walk toward the house, following footprints in the snow, which I assume are Meredith’s from when she first pulled in.

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