Julie Miller - The Bodyguard

They were speeding away as a needle pricked her arm.

“Charlotte!”

Someone had pushed her down to her knees and shoved something warm and furry against her.

“Charlotte, you’re all right—stay in the moment.”

She fought inside her head to ground herself, to find her way back to reality. Her pants were wet. Something cold and wet was soaking into her jeans. Max. Max had his front paws on her shoulder and was licking her face. Her hands crept around his neck, hugging him tight. “Good boy. Good boy, Max.”

“Stay in the moment,” the deep voice beside her commanded. She took a deep, calming breath.

And then she saw the white van. “No.”

It stopped at the bottom of the hill. They were coming.

“I won’t go. Don’t take me!”

He turned her bruised face into the stale bedding. “I’m tired of waiting for my millions. It’s time to show Daddy just how serious we are.”

And then she felt the cold scissors squeeze her earlobe. “No!”

“Charlotte!” the voice snapped. “Honey, I don’t want to touch you right now. Listen to my voice. Stay in the moment.”

“Trip?” She pulled one hand from Max’s fur and reached out.

The driver’s door opened and a man climbed out of the van. “Charlotte Mayweather?”

He looked right at her. He was coming for her. She backed away.

“I have something for you.” He held up a small package wrapped in plastic.

Charlotte answered with a scream.

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