Page 9 of Emily's Escape

Yes,I tell myself.I can use my wits to get out of this. I just need to be patient.

“Dad,” Kylie pipes up from the back. “I need to go to the bathroom. When are we going to stop?”

Her father’s fingers go white around the steering wheel. “Not now. We’ve still got a couple hours to go.”

“A couple of hours? I can’t wait that long.”

“Then pee in a cup or something,” he snaps.

“A cup?” Kylie sounds aghast. And really, I can’t blame her. No ten-year-old girl on the cusp of pre-teen-hood wants to pee in a cup in front of two other people.

“Maybe we could find a wooded area,” I suggest. Peering over my shoulder at Kylie, I give her a meaningful look. A woodedarea means an opportunity for her to escape. Or at least, added time for the police to catch up to us.

Assuming the police are on their way, that is. Derek may not have called them yet—a woman missing for an hour isn’t exactly a high priority—but surely Kylie’s mom must have called them by now. And while I don’t know the details of her relationship with Kylie’s dad, I’m guessing he doesn’t have custody, and that’s what this whole kidnapping thing is about.

“A wooded area?” her father asks disbelievingly. “Are you kidding? No way. We’re not stopping until we get home. Find a cup. Or—” He leans forward to rummage beneath the seat and comes out with a half-full bottle of sports drink in his hand.

He tosses the bottle into the backseat. “Here. Use this.”

Kylie makes a disgusted sound.

“I was thinking,” I start, determined to try Derek’s strategy, “maybe we could get to know each other a little better. Since we’re going to be spending more time together. Like… what’s your name? Where are we headed?”

My captor flashes me a quick, assessing look. I widen my eyes innocently at him. “Fine,” he huffs. “I’m Harrison. Harry, for short. And we’re headed—” He stops. “Shit.”

My poor, overworked heart skips another beat. “What?”

“Fuck,” Kylie’s dad—no,Harry—mutters. “How’d they find us?”

Hope sparks.

Could the cavalry be on its way?

A look behind us reveals the welcome sight of several flashing lights in the distance. I don’t know for certain they’re here for us, but I really,reallyhope so.

“The police,” Kylie announces. “Dad. You should pull over. It’s the law.”

Harry punches the gas, and the car jerks forward. “We’re not pulling over. And they might not be looking for me. They could be pulling someone else over. Someone speeding or something.”

It’s possible. But given the situation, unlikely.

As I’m watching through the rear window, another car comes flying up behind us. It’s a blue Subaru hatchback, not unlike the one Derek borrowed from his dad. I can’t identify the driver from here, but he’s tall and dark-haired and oh, Idesperatelyhope it’s Derek.

But how,the logical side of my brain asks. How in the world could Derek be right behind us? How in the world could he have found me when I couldn’t tell him where I am?

I don’t know. But it doesn’t stop me from hoping.

“Damn it!” Harry hisses. He punches the gas again. I grab ‌my seatbelt to make sure it’s fastened. Then I turn to Kylie and say urgently, “Put on your seatbelt.Now.”

As she fumbles for her seatbelt, she asks, “Are the police coming for us?”

“No,” her dad snaps. “They’re looking for someone else.” He sounds increasingly frazzled. “There’s no way?—”

Behind us, the flashing lights close in.

And the blue hatchback is only a few car lengths away. Not close enough to identify the driver, but enough to hope.

“Damn it!” Harry shouts. “I’m not going to jail!”