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the ceiling. I pressed my palm against it. It was solid. I pushed, straining my muscles. The air was hot and stale. No . This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be happening. This isn’t real , I told myself. I was in the trunk of a car. I flipped over onto my back and began banging on the roof of the trunk.  
    “Help!” I pushed against the roof. I balled my hands into fists and pounded. Frantic, I banged on the roof until my hands hurt. “Please, help me!” There had to be a way out. I rolled back onto my side and began to madly search for a release. I reached out in front of me, feeling for the metal latch. “Please,” I cried. “Somebody, help me!”
    My fingers fastened around something hard. My eyes widened, and I sucked in a deep breath. Was it the trunk release? There was no way to tell, but I pulled it back anyway. Nothing happened. I curled my fingers around it and yanked it back with all my strength. My sweaty hands slipped off the little piece of metal and flew back. The top of my hand hit the roof of the trunk. White pain webbed across the bones in my hand, tingling along my fingers. I cradled my hand against my body, waiting for the sting to pass.
    I was going to die. I knew it. I would swelter and die in this trunk. I kicked my legs against the side of the trunk and screamed. Oh, God. I would suffocate. The air was going to run out, and I was going to suffocate and die. It would be a slow horrible death. I swallowed a sob and clamped my mouth shut. I needed to save the little oxygen I had left.
    As soon as I was still, I heard muffled voices coming from outside the car. My muscles ached as I struggled to keep calm while everything inside of me wanted to scream for help. Whoever was outside the car would have heard me, and they hadn’t helped me. And they wouldn’t. They had to be the two guys who put me in here. I moved my trembling hands over my mouth, pressing then against my lips to silence my chattering teeth. Hot tears silently rolled down my face, soaking the rough carpet beneath me. I moved to the end of the trunk, pressing my ear to the side to listen.
    “Bitch saw the whole thing and called the cops. What the hell was I supposed to do?” he spoke. I recognized his voice right away. Terror turned my blood cold, and his face flashed through my mind. Eyes as blue as the summer sky. High cheekbones covered in day-old stubble. Tousled brown hair and full lips. I had been so taken aback by his good looks that I hadn’t suspected him of being anything but helpful. I was so fucking dumb.  
    “You could have left her,” a deep voice responded. I had yet to hear him speak but I was certain that voice belonged to the man with the dark eyes. “There’s no way she could have turned us in.”
    “And that’s a risk you’re willing to take? I don’t think Nate would be too happy with that.”
    “N-no,” he nervously stammered. “But bringing her with? She’ll slow us down. W-we could have…” he trailed off. “There are other ways.”
    The guy with the blue eyes laughed. “Other ways?” His voice got louder as he leaned on the car. “You’re a fucking idiot, Jackson. Killing her on the street is too obvious and messy.”
    Killing her on the street? A painful stab of horror pierced my heart. What kind of people were they? Cold fear crept over me at a dizzying rate. They wanted to kill me? Fuck the lack of oxygen. I needed out. Now. I pushed off the side of the trunk and started kicking, blindly aiming for the brake lights.  
    “Help me!” I screamed as loud as I could. “Help! Get me out of here! Help!”
    Someone hit the car. “Shut up, you stupid whore!” Blue Eyes yelled. “No one can hear you!” he taunted. Panting, I became still. I sucked in a gulp of hot air. Nausea twisted in the pit of my stomach. How far was I from the city? What kind of a place were we in? It had to be secluded if no one could hear me screaming. Then again, he could be lying.
    I took in another breath,