54
Callie Thornton came awake slowly,carefully. Before opening her eyes, she listened to the world around her. Listened for the creepy guy who’d abducted her.
Shame washed over her.
How could she have fallen for the puppy ploy? The freaking puppy ploy!
She had seen how many movies and shows where the kidnapper had used a cute, wiggly dog to entice a woman?
Countless. Yet one too few, as it turned out.
Granted, her puppy hadn’t been wiggly at all, but sad and forlorn.
With the sun blazing down, she’d paused near her trunk, arms full of replacement bedding and toys for Brodie, when she heard the whining. She stowed her purchases in her trunk before going in search of the distressed animal.
Following the whimpers, she peered down the length of her vehicle and spotted a yellow lab puppy pacing at the end of its leash near a blue car in front of hers. The back passenger side window was down about halfway, and the puppy’s leash appeared to be caught on something in the backseat.
Had the puppy jumped out? Callie moved along the driver’s side of her car, peering into the front windshield of the blue car for a sleeping teenager—anyone who might be inside and oblivious that their new pup had flown the coop.
No one was inside.
At the sight of her, the puppy surged toward her, only to be caught up short by its leash. The puppy yelped, and she rushed to its side.
When she kneeled on one knee, the hot asphalt burned her bare skin and a slow trickle of sweat slipped down the back of her neck.
How long had the pup been tangled up in its own leash? What heartless person had left their dog inside their car on such an unusually stifling day for May?
A yellow bone tag dangled from the pup’s collar. Hopefully, the owner’s phone number was engraved on the tag, and she could call and give them a piece of her mind, er, notify them their dog was loose.
Intent on her task, she didn’t immediately register the sound of a sliding door. Before she could react, a brawny hand covered her mouth with a damp cloth and pulled her into the van. The pup scrambling out of her arms.
The last thing she heard was the ominous sound of the door slamming shut, throwing her into complete darkness.
Callie’s throat ached at the thought of the pup’s fate, at Liv’s disappointment.
How many times had her big sister warned her about vans in parking lots? About guys and puppies?
During her years in college, she’d heeded Liv’s dire warnings, even though she knew the chances of her coming across any of scenarios Liv painstakingly laid out for her were minimal.
In the past few months, while staying with Liv, she’d become more complacent. Less watchful. It had always been so when with her big sister. Liv made her feel safe, protected. But not in a smothering, gooey way.
The sweet puppy was all but hanging out the window by its collar! Who wouldn’t be moved by such cruelty?
Being moved by the sight and throwing caution to the wind are two different things, Cal.She could almost hear Liv’s admonishing voice.
Stupid, stupid, idiot.
Having not heard anything for several minutes, Callie blinked her eyes open while engaging her other senses. She was lying on her back in a relatively soft, yet starting to get ripe, bed in what looked like a bedroom.
The musty, damp air combined with the sound of a nearby HVAC system kicking on and the deep window wells confirmed what her eyes had already determined.
She was in someone’s basement.
The realization dismayed her, but not as much as the handcuffs binding her wrists to the headboard or the immovable duct tape strapped across her mouth.
She glanced down her body and almost cried with relief. Still clothed in her V-neck top and denim shorts, though her flip-flops were long gone.
Knowing it was futile, she still jerked hard on the restraints. The cuffs bit into her wrists and clanged against the metal-framed bed. Her breaths turned shallow as the full weight of her situation pressed upon her chest.