by R. M. Healy
"Where are you going?" He questioned, not moving out of her way.
"The city."
"What a pleasant surprise, that is exactly where I am going. You are more than welcome to travel with me when my driver gets here."
Despite him projecting his words as an offer, his voice and demeanor seemed hostile.
"No, I prefer to travel alone. Have a nice day."
He still didn't move, and she was beginning to feel on edge.
"Aveline? That's a beautiful name," he commented, his face stern and piercing blue eyes surveying her carefully.
"How the hell do you know my name?" She snapped. The man was really beginning to creep her out. He was almost a foot taller than her and judging by the way he was staring at her, his intentions were not pure.
"It's on your suitcase tag," the man replied, raising his brows as he stared down at her, no humor on his face.
Aveline decided to not respond. She didn't want a confrontation, especially not with a 6ft plus man at the airport in a country where she knew no one.
Holding the handles on her cases, she walked around him to the edge of the footpath and looked out for a taxi. It was eerily quiet, and she was conscious of the stranger waiting behind her.
When she finally saw a black Mercedes, she let go of one of her cases and held her arm out. It would definitely cost twice as much to take a luxury car to Naples then a standard taxi, but she was beginning to feel like she was being watched.
As it fell to the floor again, she heard footsteps behind her. Just as she was about to turn and tell the man to back off, she felt a strong arm around her waist and her body being lifted from the ground.
Screaming, she tried to wrestle her way out of the man's arms, kicking and clawing at whoever held her.
She was no match for the muscular body that held her there, and as she continued to fight, she felt a horrid sense of dread.
She wasn't strong enough.
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