6
Nicole
I toss the backpack over my shoulder, lace on my favorite pair of sky-blue sneakers, and head for the front door.
Papa doesn’t so much as look my way.
He doesn’t care that I run. I’m just an annoyance to him.
Outside, the sun is blinding and warm. I stroll past the guards on the lawn for the gate.
“Do you need a ride?” one of the guards asks me.
“No, that’s all right. I’ll walk.” I fully intend on digging out the keys to the truck once I’m past the gate and out of sight.
The gate squeaks open with a shrilling rattle that sends a shiver down my spine. I ignore it.
There are more men standing guard than usual.
Papa was angry this morning. Did he worry that we were in the middle of another turf war? I’d heard bits and pieces and wasn’t an idiot.
Papa and the Ricci’s didn’t get along. Never did. Never would.
I stroll through the open gate. I nod my thanks to the guards and keep my sights ahead on the bend in the main road. That’s where I parked the truck.
It wasn’t out of sight. It had been late when I’d come home, but I doubt anyone thought anything of it. Vehicles broke down all the time, and it was just before the private road that led to the house.
I reach the truck and drop my bag on the ground. I need my keys, and I don’t have them handy.
Well, Daniel’s keys. I crouch down and unzip the backpack. My fingers sift through the contents, pushing the wads of cash aside first, and then fiddling through my clothes.
I should have left the keys in the outside pocket. That would have been smart, but I wasn’t thinking this morning.
Papa always makes me nervous.
My hands tremble. I exhale a heavy breath and turn around just as I feel a bag going over my head and my hands are thrust behind my back.
Cuffs dig into my flesh.
He doesn’t identify himself. It’s not a police officer.
“Who are you?” My question goes unanswered.
Strong arms lift me, and the roar of another vehicle’s engine hisses and thuds.
“Let me go!” I squirm and shriek, doing my best to fight, but my arms are secure behind me, and I don’t have a chance without a bit of help.
“Do you know who I am? You can’t do this! I’m Nicole DeLuca. My father will kill you!” I scream at the men abducting me.
They shove me into the back of a vehicle. It’s lower to the ground.
I’m not in the truck that I’d stolen.
Where were they taking me?
They ignore my pleas, my screams, my shouts for help.
Is this because I stole that hottie’s truck last night? Was he teaching me a lesson?