"Shut her up!" Brandon yelled. Mason shoved a bandana in her mouth, muffling her cries. They forced her into the back seat, Trevor's weight pinning her down as Kyle slammed the door.
The truck peeled out, tires smoking. Through the window, Alicia watched her overnight bag growing smaller on the sidewalk, clothes scattered like broken dreams of a normal teenage night. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, probably Emma wondering where she was, but with Trevor holding her arms and Mason watching her every move, she couldn't reach it. Tears leaked from her eyes as Brandon drove toward the edge of town, away from everything safe and familiar.
The truck bounced down an old logging road, branches scraping against the windows like desperate fingers. Alicia's heart pounded as Brandon drove deeper into the darkening woods, far from any houses or street lights. The bandana in her mouth tasted like dirt and fear.
"This will teach her and her dad to mess with us," Kyle said from the front seat, dabbing at the scratches on his face. "Military man thinks he's so tough."
Brandon killed the headlights before turning onto an even narrower trail. "Nobody comes out here anymore. Not since they closed the old quarry."
Alicia tried to focus on landmarks through the window. A lightning-struck tree, a rusty gate, anything that might help her get her bearings, but the woods all looked the same in the growing darkness. Endless walls of shadow and leaves.
The truck jerked to a stop in a small clearing. Dead leaves carpeted the ground and moss-covered boulders loomed like ancient guardians. Trevor yanked her out of the back seat, his grip bruising her arms.
"Get the rope," Brandon ordered, and Mason pulled a coil from behind the seat. The same kind they'd used before at the other tree. Alicia's legs went weak at the sight of it.
They dragged her to a massive oak tree, its trunk wider than three men. Trevor held her still while Kyle and Mason wrapped the rope around her chest and arms, binding her to the rough bark. The bandana stayed wedged in her mouth, but they added duct tape over it this time.
"Not so tough now, are you?" Brandon paced in front of her, twirling his keys. "Daddy can't help you out here. No jogger's going to find you this time either."
The others laughed, but there was an edge to it. They were scared, too, Alicia realized. Scared of getting caught. Scared of her father. Scared of crossing a line they couldn't uncross.
"So, what's the plan?" Mason asked, shifting from foot to foot. "We can't leave her here all night again. Her dad..."
"Her dad isn't going to do anything," Brandon snapped. "My father owns this town. The sheriff, the judges, all of them. We just need to scare her good. Make sure she knows what happens when people like her don't know their place."
Kyle pulled out his phone. "We could take some pictures. Show everyone at school what a joke she is."
"No pictures," Trevor said quickly. "No evidence."
Brandon grabbed Alicia's chin, forcing her to look at him. "Maybe we should cut off some of that pretty hair. Send it to her daddy in an envelope."
Alicia held his gaze, refusing to let him see her terror. Inside, she prayed, not just for rescue, but for strength. The rope bit into her arms, and the tree bark scraped her back through her thin t-shirt. But she wouldn't cry. Wouldn't give them that satisfaction.
"This is messed up, man," Mason said suddenly. "We should just let her go. We made our point."
"Shut up." Brandon whirled on him. "You getting soft? Want to be her friend now?"
"No, but... but..."
"Nothing." Brandon pulled something from his pocket that glinted in the dim light. A knife. "We're going to make sure she never tells anyone what happened here. Never gets her daddy involved again."
The others backed away slightly. This was going further than their usual cruelty, crossing a line into something darker.
"Brandon, maybe we should think about this," Trevor started.
"I am thinking." Brandon's voice cracked with hysteria. "Everything's falling apart because these people came here." He waved the knife wildly, and even his friends looked scared now.
Alicia closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing through her nose. She thought of her father's quiet strength, her mother's gentle wisdom. They wouldn't want her to break.
Back at the Carter house, Angela paced the living room, checking her phone again. No messages from Alicia. No answer to her calls.
"David," she called up the stairs. "Something's wrong. Emma just texted. Alicia never showed up for their movie night."
David appeared immediately, already changing from his casual clothes into dark tactical gear. His face had shifted into something harder, more focused. This wasn't the loving father anymore, but the Delta Force commander evaluating a threat.
"How long?" he asked, checking his watch.
"She left 40 minutes ago. It's only three blocks, David. She should have been there in 10 minutes."
He nodded once, pulling equipment from a locked cabinet: a tactical vest, communications gear, a handheld GPS unit. "Call the police. Make them take a report, even if they resist. I need an official record started."
"Where are you going?" Angela's voice shook.
"To find our daughter." He checked a small tablet showing multiple blinking dots. "I put trackers in her shoes after the first incident. And I've been monitoring Brandon's truck through a device I planted last week. They're moving off-road, heading toward the old quarry."