Chapter 1
My best friend, Harriet Doyle, was marrying far away in the mountains, and she asked me to be her bridesmaid.
She said, "Beatrice, darling, you're the closest person to me besides my parents.
"Only if you're my bridesmaid will I have no regrets."
Thinking about our friendship that had lasted more than ten years, I agreed without a second thought.
After a long and exhausting journey, I finally made it to the small town at the base of the mountain Harriet had told me about.
Just as I was about to send her my location so she could send someone to pick me up, a stream of floating comments suddenly flashed before my eyes.
A person wrote: [Help. How do we tell Beatrice Perry that her best friend was killed by the wild wedding pranks here?]
Another wrote: [The groom and his groomsmen are on their way to make Beatrice his replacement bride.]
Someone else wrote: [Just 500 yards left. They're about to spot Beatrice.]
*****
When I saw that they were five hundred yards away, my hand clenched around my phone.
Without thinking, I wanted to call Harriet to make sure she was safe.
But my finger hovered over the screen, and I just couldn't bring myself to press the call button.
A barrage of comments kept flashing before my eyes, the blood-red text burning into my vision.
A person wrote: [Don't call. The groom's got Harriet's phone now.]
Another wrote: [Harriet died a horrible death. Those bastards messed her up so bad during the wedding games that her insides were ruined.]
Someone else wrote: [Beatrice, run. This isn't a wedding. It's a trap to snatch you up as the new wife for the Tillerys and force you to have their kids.]
Someone wrote: [They're here. That van with no plates just pulled up at the corner.]
My heart was pounding in my chest.
I shoved my phone away, tore off my bright white puffer, and flipped it inside out.
Now the jacket was deep black.
I yanked my cap down, skipped the station exit, and ducked into the noisy farmers' market nearby.
All those years of martial arts told me that standing out in the open would make me an easy target.
The moment I disappeared around the corner, a screech of brakes shattered the quiet at the station.
I ducked behind a shop strung up with cured meats and peeked out through a gap.
A beat-up van screeched to a halt right where I'd been standing.
The doors flew open, and four men jumped out.
The guy in front had a brutish, thick face, squeezed into a suit that barely fit him, with a wilted groom's flower pinned to his chest.
He wasn't holding a bouquet. He had a thick, rough rope, the kind farmers use to hogtie pigs.
The other three were all big and beefy, each gripping a steel pipe or a stun baton, their eyes sweeping the crowd with a nasty glare.
"Where is she? Didn't you say she just got off the bus?" Milo Tillery growled, his voice full of menace.
He spat on the ground and pulled out his phone.
The next second, my phone started buzzing in my pocket.
The caller ID showed that it was Harriet.
I glanced at the phone, still vibrating in my hand, and a cold wave crashed over me, freezing me to the bone.
Those comments were dead on.
Harriet was already gone, and now her groom was using her phone to bait me.
I hung up without a second thought, powered off my phone, popped out the SIM card, and tossed both into the slop bucket nearby.
A phone was the perfect tracking device in this age.
Without it, I was practically blind, but at least now they'd have a hell of a time finding me.
A person wrote: [Beatrice, that was slick. Your reflexes are unreal.]
Another wrote: [Milo's glare just now was terrifying, like he was ready to eat someone alive.]
Someone wrote: [But without her phone, how's Beatrice supposed to call for help? The cops here are useless. Those local families are untouchable.]
Someone else wrote: [Forget about calling the police. Last time a kidnapped college girl made it to the station, but they dragged her right back out and smashed her legs.]
Seeing that comment, my gaze turned steely.
Right now, all I could rely on were my fists and my wits.
I quickly scanned my surroundings.
The farmers' market was crowded, but there were only two exits. If they blocked both, I'd be cornered with nowhere to run.
I had to find a place to hide, and something handy I could use as a weapon.
Right then, Milo lost his cool.
He yelled at the crowd, "Hey, listen up. If anyone spots an outsider chick in a white puffer, grab her for me. Two thousand cash if you bring her in.
"That's my runaway bride, she's got a screw loose. Don't hold back, beat her as hard as you want. If you break her, I'll cover it."