Girl, Stolen

he had never had time to turn off the car. Straightening up, he managed to quickly reach over and turn off the key.

“I’m sorry,” he said into the complete silence. “Let’s talk about this. But you have to promise that you’ll stop trying to kill me.”

“I will.” She nodded, her eyes not meeting his. Griffin figured she was probably lying. In the same situation, he knew he would lie.

He exhaled. “Look, it’s an accident you’re here. I just wanted the car, not you. I didn’t even know you were in the car.”

“Then let me go.” Her voice was low and hoarse. She took a deep breath and then started to cough, a deep, racking sound. She kept her head turned away but still, little flecks of spit landed on him. When she spoke again, it was in a whisper. “Please, please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone.”

Even Griffin wasn’t that dumb. “I’m sorry, but do you think I really believe that? By the end of the day, my description would be handed out to every cop and broadcast on every radio station in town.”

A strange expression played across her face, the ghost of a smile. In the cold, the engine ticked as it cooled. “But I won’t be able to tell them anything. Didn’t you notice that I’m blind?”

Blind? Griffin stared at her dark eyes. He had thought they weren’t really meeting his because she was looking past him for help, searching for a way out, assessing the situation.

“You’re really blind?”

“My cane’s on the floor.”

Still wondering if she was tricking him somehow, he looked on the floor. Sitting next to a small black purse behind the driver’s seat was a folded bundle of white sticks.

Griffin imagined doing what she asked. He could let her get out. Maybe give her her cane, maybe not. She could probably hear cars okay, and it wasn’t like there were a lot of them. Instead of getting run over, she would flag down the next vehicle that came along. But as soon as someone stopped for her, it wouldn’t be long until the police were involved. The brand-new Escalade didn’t exactly blend in. What if someone passed by here only a minute or two after he let her go? He was thirty miles from home, thirty miles from where he could hide the car. It would be all too easy to track him down. And after that, it was still the same nightmare scenario. All of them locked up and the key thrown away for good.

No. Better to keep her for a little while yet. Ask Roy what to do, even though he wouldn’t be happy about Griffin bringing back trouble. Better to bring it back than to leave it out here, ready to explode and engulf them all in the fallout. Besides, Griffin already had an idea. Tonight, after it got dark, he could drive this girl someplace deserted and let her out and then drive away again. Leave her someplace where it would be hours before anyone found her. Just like she asked, only with a lot less chance of being caught. But not here. Not now. Not in daylight. Not when a car might come by at any moment.

As if to make the thought real, he heard a car in the distance. Approaching them.

“I can’t let you go,” he said, and was starting to add, “not right now,” but before Griffin even got the next word out of his mouth she was fighting him again, opening her mouth to scream. What could he do? Then he had an idea. He didn’t know if it would work, but he had to do something. Desperately, he groped across the passenger seat until his fingers closed on what he needed.

Griffin pressed the barrel against her temple.

“Shut up or I’ll shoot you.”

EVERY REASON TO LIE

Cheyenne froze at the touch of the cold metal. She could tell that he meant what he said. He sounded angry and out of control, just like she felt. They were both quiet until the car passed them and the sound of its engine faded. She could feel her strength draining away with it.

“Look — can’t you just chill?” His voice sounded a little calmer.

She made herself nod.

“I don’t need this crap. I don’t need you screaming and kicking and scratching. I can’t think when you do that. So are you going to be quiet?”

Cheyenne nodded again, wishing she could curl up into a tighter and tighter ball, grow smaller and smaller until she just disappeared.

“I am going to let you go,” he insisted.

Something must have flickered on her face, betrayed her doubt.

“I am! Just not now. Right now, I’m going to have to tie you up and cover you with the blanket so that no one can see you. And tonight, once it’s dark, I’ll let you go.”

Her head ached where it had slammed against the window. That had probably only been five minutes ago, but it felt like a lifetime. Where were they now that he felt he could hold her down in the backseat without anyone noticing? That lone car had been the only one she had heard since he had turned onto this road.

“Take off your shoes.” Cheyenne thought he was trying to stop her from running away, until he added, “And pull out the laces.”

She did as he asked, wondering where the gun was pointing. At her head, at her heart? Or had he already set it down? The tiny slice of blurry vision she had left didn’t reveal any clues. He ordered her to lie down on her side, facing the seat, then tied her hands together behind her. Cheyenne knew he couldn’t be holding the gun when he did that, but even so, he could still pick it up and shoot her if she gave him any trouble. She did as he asked, but at the same time tensed her wrists and held them as far apart as she dared. With the second shoelace, he tied her ankles together. Why couldn’t she have worn loafers?

Her mind raced. When he was finished, she rolled over so that she was facing him. She wanted him to see her face, to see her eyes even if she couldn’t see his. It would probably be easier to shoot someone in the back.

She didn’t want to make it easy for him.

Cheyenne heard him pick up her purse and begin to rummage through it.

“Are you looking for money?” she said. “Because I don’t have much.”

Cheyenne knew she had a twenty, two tens, and some ones. The twenty was folded the long way, the ten the short way, and the ones weren’t folded at all. Whenever she got money back from someone else, she asked which bill was which and then folded it. Every blind person had their own way of folding money to tell it apart. Coins were a lot easier. Each was a different diameter and thickness, and some had smooth edges and some didn’t. Even before the accident, when a coin fell to the floor, Cheyenne had been able to tell what it was, just by the sound it made.

Now she offered him a bargaining chip. “I do have an ATM card. Let me go, and I’ll give you my PIN. I’ve got over three thousand dollars in my account.”

“Three thousand dollars?” There was something about his voice that made Cheyenne think he was younger than she had first thought. He sounded incredulous.

She dared to let herself hope. “You can have all of it. I don’t think you can get more than a thousand out at a time, but I won’t tell them that you have the card. I swear.”

“I don’t want your money!” There was a strange tone to his voice. It was almost like he was hurt by her accusation, which didn’t make any sense. It was okay to steal a car, it was okay to kidnap her, but it wasn’t okay to take her money? “I’m looking in your purse for something to gag you with.”

“You can’t. I’m really sick. If you gag me, I won’t be able to breathe.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth, either. But if he gagged her, it would make it that much less likely that she would be able to get help.

Cheyenne was shaking, partly with fear, and partly, she thought, because her temperature must be spiking again. It had been one hundred and two in the doctor’s office. Dr. Guinn had prescribed antibiotics and said Cheyenne would be all done with them by Christmas. Now the thought struck like a blow to the stomach. Will I be alive to see Christmas at all? “That’s why we were at the shopping center, so my stepmom could pick up my prescription at the pharmacy. If I can’t breathe through my mouth, I’ll smother.”