Holiday Wedding (Holiday Romance-Spicy Version #2)

32

Tuesday, December 24

Wedding Day

Gwen

They put me in a box, steel with chipped yellow paint and broad metal cross beams. Some sort of storage container, about six feet tall by eight feet wide. Stacks of boxes are in with me, strapped to the side. There are gaps, small holes in the sides, enough that I won’t suffocate. Earlier, I pressed my eye to one of the openings and watched Justin hop onto a forklift. Shifting gears so fast that his hands blurred, he expertly drove it over and lifted the container, jostling me in the process so that I fell over onto my side.

After I regained my balance and looked out the peephole, I saw that Justin had placed me onto a conveyor belt in a long line of containers identical to this one. I can’t see where the belt leads, but I don’t need to. Lola was more than happy to explain my fate in graphic detail. I’ll be loaded into the belly of a large airplane. Not the kind used for carrying people, but the kind that carries cargo.

“The thing about those kinds of planes,” Lola had said with a maniacal grin, “is that they have no oxygen or temperature control.”

Meaning that once the plane gains enough altitude, I’ll die from hypoxia or hypothermia. Whichever kills me first. Justin started up the conveyer belt. The engine running it is loud and rumbling. It slowly rolls me forward, sending me to my doom.

My mind races, sorting through possibilities. My hands sweep over my body. I wince when they pass over the welts on my wrists and ankles. I’ve been untied, but it does me no good. This box is locked from the outside. Finally, my fingers brush over a bulge at my waist.

My fanny pack!

I mean waist bag.

Ah, heck, I might as well admit it.

It’s a fanny pack.

Lola and Justin must have overlooked it, since it’s not a purse or a backpack. Elation turns to dust when I open it to find my cell phone missing. Of course, they wouldn’t let me keep that.

In the dimness of my cage, I can only use the sensation of touch to search the remaining contents of the bag. My hands fumble over my dad’s cufflinks, which I had put in for safekeeping, not wanting to part with them in case the airline lost my luggage. How I yearn for that time, less than 24 hours ago, when that was my biggest concern. Beautiful as they are, cufflinks won’t help me now. I continue to ransack the fanny pack. I graze ChapStick, sunglasses, hand sanitizer, Kleenex, spare change, and keys.

Wait…

Sunglasses!

My hand closes around them. The smart sunglasses Caleb gave me. They look exactly like regular sunglasses, so there was no reason to take them away. With shaking hands, I get them out and slide them over my eyes. My vision goes from dim to pitch black once they’re on. I won’t be able to see Justin or Lola if they approach. I can only hope I’ll hear if they come back.

In a soft whisper, I command, “Glasses, call Caleb.”

My lower lip trembles when ringing sounds from the tiny speaker in the earpiece. I had worried that I was so deep in the storage area that I wouldn’t get cell reception, but Caleb answers before the first chime is complete.

“Gwen? Gwen? Where are you?” I’ve never heard him so distressed.

“I’m not sure exactly.” Quickly, I fill him in on everything that’s happened and what I know about my location. Sadly, it’s not much. The room I’m in is nondescript, probably one of many in an airport this large.

“I’ll find you,” Caleb says. “The police are here. Our families, too. We’ll bring you back.” He speaks with such confidence that for the first time during this entire ordeal I start crying.

“I love you. Forever and always,” I say, sobbing, part of me convinced they won’t get to me in time. If I’m going to die, I need him to understand how I feel. I want those to be my last words.

Caleb knows me too well. He hears my unspoken good-bye.

“Don’t you give up,” he replies, his voice stern. “Don’t you dare give up. You’re Gwen, the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

I’m crying harder now, unable to stifle my sobs.

There’s shouting from his end of the line. Rustling sounds follow, as if he’s on the move. Caleb is breathing faster.

“You have the heart of a lion. I’ve heard it beating.” Panting like he’s running, he says, “Hang on. I love you. I’m coming for you.”