{Daisy’s POV}

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that my hands were taped together.

The second thing I noticed was that the floor beneath me was vibrating.

Not gently. Not like a washing machine on the spin cycle. It was more like the steady, angry rumble of a vehicle moving over a road that had clearly been given up on… which led to the third thing I noticed.

I was lying on the floor of a moving van.

For a moment, I stayed perfectly still, because my brain was still booting up like an old laptop that had seen too many bad situations.

Hands taped…

Moving vehicle…

Dark metal walls…

Two large men sitting across from me…?

Oh.

Oh.

Oh shit. I had been kidnapped.

I would like to say that my first reaction was graceful and brave, something heroic and stout, but it was not.

My first reaction was to blink several times and think, “Well, this is new.”

Then panic arrived.

My heart began hammering against my ribs so hard I was genuinely concerned it might break something on the way out. I sat up slowly, the tape around my wrists pulling uncomfortably against my skin.

Okay.

Okay.

Think, Daisy. Think.

The last thing I remembered was leaving the campus library.

I worked the evening shift there because apparently my life wasn’t stressful enough on its own and I needed financial anxiety to really spice things up.

It had been late and cold and I had been walking across the nearly empty campus parking lot. And then—

Blank.

Nothing, and now I was here; in a van, with duct tape and two men who looked like they could bench-press refrigerators.

Great.

Just absolutely fantastic.

I cleared my throat now and one of the men looked at me. He had a bald head and the expression of someone who had never laughed a single time in his life. Pitiful.

“Good evening,” I said and he frowned at once.

“Stop talking.”

I blinked at him.

“Well, you kidnapped me,” I pointed out reasonably. “I feel like talking is the only compensation I have left.”

The man stared at me like he was reconsidering his life choices.

Across from him, the second guy frowned.

“Don’t say anything to her,” he told the first guy, then turned to me. “Can you shut up?”

I sighed also.

“Technically, yes,” I said. “Currently? Probably not.”

The van hit a bump then and my shoulder slammed into the metal wall.

“Also,” I added, wincing, “this ride is extremely uncomfortable. If you’re going to kidnap someone, you should really invest in better seating arrangements.”

The bald-headed guy rubbed his face like he had just been told his wife was pregnant with twins when he didn’t even want another baby.

“Fritzo,” he muttered to the driver and a voice came from the front.

“What?”

The man leaned forward slightly.

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