He Thought I Was Weak— He Thinks He Knows What’s Coming.

I didn’t think my life could get worse. No job. No money. No future. Then, a car pulled up beside me, and I ignored every instinct, doing the one thing you’re never supposed to do.

I got in the car.

What happened next shattered everything I thought I knew—about people, survival, and myself. He took me—body, mind, and soul—and tried to cage me.

But he didn’t break me.

I’m still here. And I’ve found allies in the unlikeliest of places. Together, we’re not just fighting to survive—we’re fighting back. He has no idea what we’re capable of.

He’s about to learn how wrong he was.

For fans of Karin Slaughter and Lisa Gardner, this is your next obsession.

1

The groceries I’d bought with my last bit of cash bounced against my back inside my backpack. My bank account was now completely empty. I couldn’t borrow any more from my friends or my father. They were all tapped out. My landlord had been kind and let me stay on for an extra month while I tried to find another job, but I didn’t have a degree and years of experience as an administrative assistant didn’t count for much, especially when you were competing with a younger, vastly overqualified woman with a master’s degree, just as desperate for the job. His kindness was about to run out.

As I walked past a mother and her child begging, I thought about my father’s offer to move in with him, but he didn’t have the space, and I couldn’t expect him to take care of me for the rest of time. His pension barely paid his bills. Plus, I didn’t get on with his new wife. I looked back at the woman and her child and contemplated asking her for tips on how to beg. It was where I was heading. I probably only had a few more nights sleeping in my bed before the bank came and took it and all my remaining possessions. I’d already sold everything I could.

The sound of a vehicle coming up behind me reminded me of the car I’d sold two months ago, right after I’d lost my job. I couldn’t afford the insurance or constant maintenance of an old car. I also couldn’t afford the petrol. Selling it had been one of the harder decisions, but it had kept the roof over my head and food in the fridge while I tried to find something I could do from home. Once again, I felt completely hopeless and up against people with far more skills than I had.

  My old job hadn’t been great, but it had paid the bills. If I was honest, I fucking hated that job, but it was at least something to keep the wolves at bay right up until that bastard thought he could harass and bully me. Apparently, I should have been grateful for his attention because I was on the wrong side of thirty. The moment I said no, things started going very wrong. All of a sudden, nothing I did was right. Documents I knew I’d submitted were late or had disappeared. And if the documents I’d submitted to him for approval were found, they were not up to scratch. It didn’t matter what I said; it was his word against mine, and he was a man in a position of power, and I was, well, expendable. My dismissal was a speeding train wreck that hit me hard and fast, and even though I saw it coming, I still couldn’t do anything to stop it.

The thing that really burned my arse was that the women in positions of power at the company—women I’d thought were my friends—had taken his side. They said they believed me but then swept everything under the carpet. That betrayal cut deep and wasn’t something I could easily forgive.

I heard the car’s engine slow behind me. I quickened my pace. Glancing over my shoulder, I took in the shining white SUV. It probably cost more than I’d earned in over a year. I couldn’t understand why he didn’t just drive past. The pavement narrowed to little more than a footpath under the trees that lined the street. I stuck to the footpath and wasn’t walking in the street, so there was no way I was preventing him from driving on his merry little way. There was also no oncoming traffic, so he could easily have passed me even if I was walking on the road.

The sound of his engine behind me began to freak me out. I was tempted to run but refused to let my nerves get the better of me. Plus, I still had a long walk ahead and needed to conserve my energy. I’d be sore in the morning from walking the ten-kilometre round trip as it was. If I tried running, I wouldn’t be able to walk the next day. I also wasn’t sure if my jeans would stay up. The poverty diet had taken its toll, and I’d dropped two dress sizes. My clothes hung off me like they belonged to someone else. My jeans threatened to slip down with each step, held up only by the bones of my hips—a reminder of every meal I’d missed. It only took a few more minutes of that engine droning behind me for me to finally lose my shit.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I yelled as I turned around to face whoever was behind the steering wheel.

The guy looked embarrassed and sped off while I tried to get my heart rate and breathing under control before continuing. My backpack and the little food I bought began weighing me down. The bread would probably be a little squished from the milk carton and the can of tinned vegetables. I didn’t even want to think about how crushed the packets of two-minute noodles would be.

My thighs burned, and even though I’d worn my trail running shoes, a reminder of better times, my feet also let me know they were not happy with me. I was not looking forward to the blisters I would probably have the next day. My stomach grumbled. At least it was a distraction from my sore legs and feet. The hollow feeling in my belly was familiar. I’d tried drinking more water to try and fool my stomach into thinking it was getting sustenance. I’d also read somewhere that hunger pangs could also be signs that you were dehydrated. It didn’t matter how much water I drank anymore. The empty feeling never seemed to leave me. When I got home, I hoped a bowl of two-minute noodles would be a temporary fix. And I could have a slice of bread the following day for breakfast. I just had to ration the meagre supplies I had in the bag.

I rounded the bend in the street, marking the halfway point between the shopping centre and my apartment complex. The same SUV that had followed me earlier was parked at the side of the road with its emergency lights flashing. My empty stomach dropped, and a knot formed in my throat. Even my hands began to sweat. Every part of me screamed that something terrible was about to happen. But there was this little voice at the back of my mind, asking if my life could get any worse. If he killed me, would that really be such a bad thing? I was already dying slowly. Speeding the process up would simply ease my suffering. I was just too much of a coward to do it myself.

The driver’s door opened, and he stepped out. The first thing I noticed were his highly polished shoes. They looked expensive, probably Italian leather, and were bought at some speciality store for rich guys. His slacks even had that razor-sharp edge ironed into them. I somehow doubted he’d ironed them himself. His smile was friendly. Too friendly. It was obviously meant to disarm me, but those perfect white teeth and that too-good-looking face had the opposite effect on me. His dark hair was starting to grey at the temples.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to freak you out earlier.”

“Sure,” I said as I quickened my pace. I just wanted to get past him. If it hadn’t been for the oncoming car taking its time, I would have run across the street to get away from him, but that voice still asked me what the point was. It wasn’t like I had anything waiting for me.

“It’s just that I noticed you in the shop, and I know how that sounds,” he said, putting his hands up in an apologetic way.

“Okay, if you say so,” I said as I approached his SUV.

“I wanted to buy you some groceries, but you seemed proud, so I hoped I could at least give you a lift home.”

I couldn’t help the embarrassed laugh that burst out of my mouth. I almost burst into tears. I hadn’t realised that my financial situation was that obvious. He was right; I still had some pride left. It was probably why I hadn’t started begging on a street corner or, worse, started selling myself on some website. Not that I even had the faintest idea of how to do that. I’d had a brief moment where I’d contemplated starting a fans-only page but didn’t have any idea how to start one or what the hell I’d do with it, or if anyone would even want to see my bony arse naked.

I didn’t expect the passenger door to open or for a woman who looked like she’d stepped out of a style magazine to climb out of his car and walk towards me. Her heels didn’t belong on the footpath. They belonged on a runway in some fashion show. I also hadn’t noticed anyone sitting in the passenger seat when he drove past me earlier, but then again, I probably hadn’t been paying close enough attention. I’d also been too creeped out.

“Can’t you see you’re making her uncomfortable, Frank?” she said. She had a slight accent, not the typical South African twang. She was probably a mail-order bride. The unkind thought made me feel guilty. I was jealous. I was starving, and that woman was wearing more money in her one outfit than I could imagine earning in a few months. It was all so horribly wrong.

“My husband doesn’t understand what it’s like to be a woman walking alone, even if it is in broad daylight,” she said as she leaned elegantly against their spotless vehicle. “But I promise, he’s a gentleman. He’s also insufferable when he can’t help someone, so please let us give you a ride home so I don’t have to listen to him worry about you for the rest of the day and that way, he doesn’t have to worry about me getting jealous about his incessant chatter about another woman.”

I had so many conflicting feelings running amok at that moment. Humiliation and gratitude were the two big ones competing to make me cry the most, but another one was simmering under the surface – doubt. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was off about her. They both looked like the perfect couple. Rich and kind. But their smiles were too broad. They were trying too hard to get me into their car. And then my insecurity kicked in. Why would they want to kidnap or do anything to me? Just looking at either of them made me feel insignificant. I wasn’t even remotely attractive in comparison with her. I was being ridiculous.

“We’re picking our son up at the school down the road,” she said. “Do you live close to it?”

I nodded. I didn’t trust myself to speak. Emotions constricted my throat while I considered my options. I could choose to trust them and ride in comfort the rest of the way to my apartment, or I could run. If they were sex traffickers, they’d just hunt me down, and I’d have wasted all that energy for nothing—energy I’d need later. 

“We can drop you off at the school,” he said. “Would that help?”

I nodded. My decision was made.  

“That’s settled then,” she said as she gestured for me to get in the front passenger seat.

“It’s very kind of you.” I managed to choke out.

“It’s only a pleasure,” she said. “It’s my kind deed for the decade. Frank may believe in building Karma points on a daily basis, but I’m far less altruistic. I don’t want to have to listen to him moan for the rest of the day, so you’re really doing me the favour. Isn’t she, Dear?”

Frank smiled and nodded as he climbed into the driver’s seat.

“I’m Aiza,” she said as she climbed into the seat behind me. “And you are?”

“I’m Rebecca,” I said as I pulled the seat belt down and heard it click as it locked in place.

I couldn’t understand why she insisted I sit in the front and she sat behind me. It was a weird thing to do. Was she planning on using my seatbelt to strangle me, or was she going to slit my throat from behind?

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Aiza said as she dug around in a shopping bag behind the driver’s seat and handed me a cool bottle of water instead of killing me. “You look thirsty after such a long walk.”

I checked to see if the bottle had already been opened. I felt ridiculous doing it, having just seen her take it out of the shopping bag, but I felt better seeing that the seal was still intact. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong with them. Those two conflicting voices in my head argued. One screamed at me that I needed to get out of the car. No matter how bad things were, my financial situation was temporary, but staying in that car could be a permanent solution or the beginning of something way worse than just being poor. The other told me I was being ridiculous. They were what they seemed – a kind and generous couple. I opened the bottle and gulped the cool liquid. Aiza had been right. I was thirsty.

It didn’t take long for me to realise I’d made a mistake. The effects from whatever they’d put in the water didn’t take long. My vision started to blur.

“Fuck,” I whispered as the world began to spin a little faster than it should, and everything went black.

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