Catherine groaned and closed her eyes again. She didn't doubt that Iris's henchmen could handle the angry group of villagers. He would probably pay them all off—including the police—and take her to the airport.

"I need to sit down," Catherine said, slumping down into the car seat.

​​

Iris gave her a suspicious look, and Catherine rolled her eyes.

"It's not like I'm going to drive away," she said. "The car is totaled."

"Right," Iris said with a cruel smile. "You're not going anywhere."

She waited for Iris to turn her back and then began a desperate search for her phone. Broken glass glittered all around, but she found the phone wedged under one of the seats. She grabbed it carefully, brushing away the shards of glass, and pressed the lock button. Quickly, she scrolled through the contacts and found Sean. She hit call and waited.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Iris shouted, lunging for the phone. "Give me that."

She tried to dodge, but she was too weak to avoid Iris. The phone was ripped from her hands, and Iris pounded the screen with her manicured fingertip.

"We're too late to get to the airport, Iris," she said. "Might as well face the consequences now. Though I can only imagine how angry Sean will be."

Iris's face paled, but then it brightened as a dark BMW screeched to a stop behind the ruined car. A tall man with broad shoulders and gray hair got out of the car and walked toward them.

"Glen," Iris shouted. "What took you so long?" Take care of these people and the police and do it fast. We need to get her to the airport."

Blue lights flashed, and sirens wailed as the police finally arrived. Glen marched over to the cars to talk to them, dragging Iris with him, and Catherine pulled herself out of the car. Broken glass crunched beneath her sandals, and she stumbled toward the crowd—there had to be a hiding place nearby.

"Hey," someone shouted. "Where do you think you're going?"

"You can't escape away from this," another voice shrieked.

"Typical," said another. "Drunk or on drugs, causing all sorts of damage in the middle of the day, and now she wants to run away."

Iris whirled around and locked eyes with her. Catherine groaned, but she kept walking. She was no match for Glen, but if they wanted to take her to the airport, she would make it as difficult for them as possible. With each step, her head spun and her stomach twisted, but she kept walking. The sun beat down overhead, and she felt sweat mix with the blood on her face.

Soon a strong hand clamped over her arm. She turned and saw Glen's serious face towering over her. With a simple gesture, he pulled her off her feet, slung her over his shoulder, and carried her toward his car. The police were gone, and most of the crowd had disappeared.

He tossed her into the backseat and shut the door. She looked hopefully for a handle, but there was none—she was trapped. She slumped down on the seat and closed her eyes. The car's air conditioning blasted cold air over her sticky skin, and she shivered.

"Your brother knows I'm missing, Iris."

"How do you know?" Iris snapped. "He doesn't have a clue."

"I just knew it," Catherine said. She tried to make her voice proud and haughty, but the words sounded slurred and weak.

"Step on it, Glen," Iris said.

Catherine closed her eyes, slipping into a strange state of consciousness. Images floated like a dream—Marco's face twisted with rage, Sean's angry eyes, and the prison cell's concrete walls. She groaned and opened her eyes, trying to escape the images. Somehow she'd been reborn into a new life, but it didn't seem to matter. No matter what happened, she was doomed to suffer.

"We're almost there," Iris gloated from the front seat. "And this time, I'll make sure you behave yourself." She reached into her purse and tangled something silver and shiny in the air—handcuffs.

Catherine's stomach lurched. Images flashed in her mind—the arrest, the trial, the feel of cold metal around her wrist, the buzz of the prison door as it opened, and the clang as it slammed shut behind her.

The cold metal clicked into place around Catherine's slim wrists, and she shivered. Iris tugged on the handcuffs, testing them to make sure they were locked. Though it was speckled with blood, the diamond on Catherine's wedding ring glinted in the sun.

"You don't deserve that," Iris said. She grabbed Catherine's hand and yanked the ring from her finger.

Catherine winced with pain—the ring was on her injured hand. Iris looked at the bloodied ring with disgust, wrapped it in a tissue, and slipped it into her purse.

"Don't try to do anything," Iris warned. "Remember, you still have the cuffs on."

Glen's rough hands grabbed her upper arms and dragged her from the car. He placed her on her feet and let go slowly, staring at her with narrowed eyes.

"Can you stand?" he asked her.

She nodded, but he kept one large hand wrapped around her upper left arm. Iris beckoned for them to follow, and Glen half marched, half dragged Catherine toward the glass and steel terminal building. Catherine looked around her as they walked. They were at the airport, but they weren't anywhere near the normal queues for departures and arrivals—they must have passed through a private entrance.

The sun beat down on the tarmac, and the scent of jet fuel made her feel dizzy. She allowed Glen to drag her toward the building, hoping to get out of the sickening heat. They passed through a pair of sliding glass doors, and the guards merely glanced at them. Catherine wondered how much Iris had paid them to be so indifferent.

They marched her across a hard terrazzo floor through a bright, modern building—the lounge for VIPs and private jet owners. A long bar with glowing shelves of liquor was spread out in the middle of the room, but there wasn't a single person at the counter. Catherine didn't even see a bartender. She scanned the room, looking for other travelers, but the entire building was empty. Glen pulled her to another set of sliding glass doors and stopped.

"Well, go in," Iris said. "Your lover is waiting for you."

"No," she said quietly. "I won't go."

"What makes you think you have a choice?" Iris sneered.

"I do," Catherine said. "If you want me to go into that room, you're going to have to force me, and I'm going to make a scene."

Iris laughed, "Maybe you haven't noticed yet, but there's no one here. Go ahead, scream for all I care. No one will hear you."