Sneak Peek of A Twisted Web by Kira Adams

You ever get the feeling someone’s watching you?

You don’t know how to act, what to do.

It’s like they can see and feel everything.

Feel his eyes on me.

-Thien-nga Palmer

“Great session today,” Jon, my trainer shouts from across the parking lot.

“Thanks,” I reply, waving back at him. “See you Thursday.” I turn my back to him and continue heading to my own vehicle.

Just as I hit the unlock button on my keychain, I see something out of the corner of my eye. Before I know it I’m being lifted off the ground. I fight back, kicking, punching, trying anything to free myself of the tight grasp, but nothing works. “Help! Help me!” I’m screaming at the top of my lungs. “Jon!”

Jon is probably long gone by now and my heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest. I feel my keys being ripped from my hands; I’ve never been this frantic before. “Please!” I plead, screaming and struggling as the perpetrator roughly manhandles me into my own small trunk and locks me in.

I’m lucky I’m so short, otherwise it might be a whole other story altogether. I hear my driver’s side door open and shut, and the engine turn on. I’m shaking from fear and having trouble breathing, but then I remember that I have my phone. Hurriedly, I maneuver my hand into my back pocket and pull it out. The light illuminates my small trunk, and I swipe to unlock the screen.

I know in the back of my mind that I should be calling 911, but when I feel the car stall, I quickly press a button to call the first number in my call log.

“Hello?” My father answers on the second ring.

“Daddy!” I scream and cry hysterically at the same time, relief flooding my system.  “Daddy! Help me!” I’m so worked up, I know I’m probably not making a lot of sense. I just know I need him.

“Pumpkin?” he asks. “Is that you?”

I feel the car begin to move again and I know every second that passes is crucial.

“Daddy!” I cry, tears streaming down my cheeks. I know I’m running out of time, but what if this is the last time I will hear his voice?

“Baby, what’s wrong?” My father asks worriedly when I continue crying without any explanation.

“Dad, someone has me! Help, please! He’s driving my car, I’m…” I trail off as I feel the car screech to a halt. Shit. Shit Shit. “Oh my God! He’s coming. Daddy!” I cry out semi-coherently as I’m scrambling to hide the phone. I know better than to disconnect, so I shove it under my body as quickly as possible.

Sure enough, my trunk flies open and a guy wearing a black ski mask is staring back at me.

“Where is it?” he asks, extending his hand out.

I shake my head, terrified. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He pulls a gun out from behind his back and cocks it. “You wanna rethink that answer?”

I gasp when he points it at me, squeezing my eyes closed. “Please,” I whisper.

“Alright, you want to do it this way? Fine, we’ll do it your way. If I get to three and you don’t hand over the phone, then I’m putting a bullet in that pretty little skull of yours. Understand?”

I know I’m all out of moves. Either I give up the phone, my one and only shot at survival, or I die now. Excuse me if I’m not overly ecstatic about either option.