Kidnapped

Chapter 14 - Unstable.

He’s been at the corner desk for what feels like forever, cleaning his gun and flipping through papers he pulled from his bag. I know I should pay more attention, try to figure out what’s running through his mind, but right now, I just can’t.

My thoughts keep drifting—back home, to my mom.

Does she even know I’m gone? Or does she just think I ran off? With her and Frank always at each other’s throats lately, she knows how much I’ve wanted out.

They take my phone every night before bed on school nights to keep me from scrolling endlessly, so when... when I was abducted, it was right there, left behind. Not having it wouldn’t raise any alarms. My mom would probably just assume that I was trying to make some kind of statement.

And then there’s Frank.

Twenty-two years on the force before a medical discharge like five years ago. Back then, he was someone I looked up to, but since the drinking started, things just spiraled. Would he even reach out to his old precinct, rallying the people who used to be his friends to look for me? Or do they think I’m just another kid who needed to escape?

The shuffling sound of paper stops, pulling me from my thoughts. I look up from the scratchy motel bedspread I’d been fixated on, and I find him watching me. He’s turned in his chair, forearms resting on his knees as he tilts his gun absently, his eyes fixed on me. The faintest smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he catches my gaze, like he’s been waiting for me to notice.

I blush, instinctively shifting where I sit, feeling heat rise in my cheeks.

“Deep in thought?” he asks, his voice low but laced with curiosity.

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry, and manage a nod.

“About...?” he prompts.

My breath catches, my mind scrambling for something neutral. “I was just wondering where we’re going,” I say, the words careful and tentative, aware of how closely he’s reading me.

He quirks a half-smile, a flicker of something amused crossing his face. “Why didn’t you just ask?” he says, a bit too casually, as if inviting me into a game I don’t understand.

A nervous laugh slips out as I try to hold his gaze, an undercurrent of tension creeping up my spine. “Because I didn’t think you’d actually tell me,” I admit, my voice steadier than I feel.

He chuckles quietly, almost daring me to press further. Against every ounce of caution, I take the bait. “Alright then…where are we going?”

His smirk deepens, and he draws out the silence before replying, “Well now, that’s just none of your business.”

Surprised, I let out a laugh, startled by his answer. There’s something unsettlingly warm in his eyes, a softness that feels both out of place and somehow…intriguing. But I shake off the thought, my cheeks warming as he holds my gaze just a beat too long.

His smile lingers, a look that’s both captivating and unnerving, like he’s reading things in me I’m not ready to reveal. I want to say more, to break the tension, but there’s an edge to him that makes me wary, a feeling that he could switch from calm to chaos at any moment. It’s that same brittle feeling I know from Frank when he’s been drinking, that uneasy edge, like standing next to something ready to explode.

I force a laugh, light and a bit too bright. "Well, as long as you’re not dragging me to some… basement of horrors or a torture chamber or something.” The joke sounds forced, but I try to keep my tone playful even as my pulse quickens, a strange thrill twisting through my chest.