Chapter 17

Seventeen

B lake

I should have known it was a trap.

Almost as soon as I throw open the front door of the house to investigate, they have me.

Who “they” are, I don’t know. But there are two of them, one on each arm. Someone shoves something over my face and the smell of burlap fills my nostrils. I fight with everything in me, kicking, thrashing, roaring to make as much noise as I can. For a brief moment, the two thugs lose control of me, and for a millisecond the sack slips off. It’s enough time for me to catch a glimpse in the glow of someone’s flashlight: a logo on the side of a truck. Mason Construction.

I commit what I see to memory just as something heavy and metal strikes the back of my head. My hands are tied behind me, and I’m vaguely aware that I’m being shoved into a trunk as everything fades to black.