Bloodline [h.s.]

twenty-two.

"Have some fun while you're there. Text me when you land, alright?" He said with his hands still on my hips.

"Promise." I kissed him one more time, before gathering my things. He waited until I was inside to get in his car to leave.

As I stood in line in the crowded airport, I mentally went through my checklist of issues I had planned to address at Gallagher Investments Manhattan until I was interrupted by my phone ringing. The screen lit up with an unknown number. I answered in case it was for work.

"This is Bridget." I answered.

"Look outside and approach the black SUV to your right. Come alone." A bone chilling voice said. It was male, but it sounded altered.

Relax, it's a prank.

"Who is this?" I asked, trying to sound unfazed.

In a public place crawling with security and witnesses, I wasn't too threatened by the anonymous voice on the other end. I looked around me out of instinct. The passenger window to the tinted car described opened slightly.

"I see you're hesitating. Take another look at street. Still see Jacob's car in traffic?"

"Y-yes." I stuttered as my palms began to perspire.

"The white car behind him is following him to Payco International, where he will be murdered in the parking garage just as your father did to Kelsey Allen. That won't be necessary if you come without a fight."

It's not real. He's just trying to scare you. Stay where there's people. Don't move.

"You're lying." I said in the most confident voice I could muster as Jacob drove away, followed by the white sedan.

"Would you bet your boyfriend's life on it?"

Before I could answer, the phone vibrated against my ear. A text of a video appeared on the screen. It was the driver aiming a gun at Jacob's car, following him.

This is real. You need to fight. You are not helpless. Use your surroundings.

"Call my bluff. I dare you. He's dead in thirty seconds." He threatened.

My mouth went dry. The oxygen became scarce as I realised this wasn't a prank. It didn't matter that I was surrounded by people. My eyes searched for a police officer or even a TSA agent, hoping that at least my eye contact would communicate something was horribly wrong.

"I don't care who sees us, sweetheart. If you aren't walking in twenty-seconds, a bullet will be in his skull."

Stay calm, Bridget. You're okay. You're okay. You're okay.

"What do you want from me?" I asked just above a whisper because the fear had a choke hold on my throat.

"You, I want you walking over to my car in ten, nine, eight, seven—"

With my suitcase in hand, I left the security line to walk towards him. In the back of my mind, I knew what was about to happen to me. I kept it there to maintain some level of sanity as I handed myself over.

"Stop, stop! Please, I'm walking." I begged frantically, walking as fast as I knew how until I was in front of the black SUV.

"Attagirl," he said, "now, open the door to the backseat and join me."

"W-why can't we just talk out here?" I stammered in one last attempt to save myself. The laugh coming through the phone made my legs numb knowing my next step would be into his captivity.