A cold numbness settled over Delilah's body, wrapping around her like a suffocating blanket. She felt weightless, her limbs floating in the darkness that had swallowed her whole.
Sounds came first— distant, muffled, like voices underwater. Then, a dull throb pounded at the back of her head, pulling her toward the surface of awareness.
A low growl of an engine filled the space around her.
She wasn't home.
The realization sent a fresh wave of panic crashing through her, but when she tried to move, her body didn't respond. Her wrists felt heavy, bound. A rough texture rubbed against her skin. Rope.
Her lashes fluttered as she struggled to open her eyes, her vision blurred and hazy. The dim glow of passing streetlights flickered through the window, illuminating the man behind the wheel.
Mark.
The horror of recognition jolted through her like an electric shock again.
What was Mark doing? Why was he doing this?
