BloodSoakedTiger: Funny, you sounded like my mom. She's never called me a poop before, though. But it's only a matter of time before she does.

GhostMagic19: I'll admit it, I'm a review whore, so I'm updating super fast so you'll review again. Savvy?

SweetestReject: Am I that predictable?

heidigirl: Pay attention to some stuff Jess says near the beginning. Heh heh.

Chapter Seven:

Men were talking outside the door. One of them was picking the lock--probably not an easy feat considering what type of door it was. I had no idea what to do. Were they burglars? Cops? Drunken idiots? Gang-bangers?

And really, the way things were going, it didn't matter who it was--I was going to bust out of there the moment they walked into the room demanding for the computer equipment or whatever.

Only, as it turned out, it was Rob and his motorcycle friends. Hallelujah. I was saved.

As soon as I saw him, I jumped into his arms. He was kind of taken aback, but he hugged me anyway.

"Mastriani, we don't have much time. We have to leave now. Get your stuff and let's go!"

Shocked at the sight of seeing him,--and several of his burly, tattooed friends--I didn't question what he said and simply went and got my backpack and jacket, made sure I still had Rob's watch and got out of there.

I climbed onto the bike behind Rob and jammed the helmet onto my head. I didn't even have to tell him to go, we sped off down the street and in the direction of Podunk.

I was elated. Not only had I been kidnapped and rescued, but I was rescued by my boyfriend who happens to drive a motorcycle--and likes to drive it really, really fast.

I was so happy that I didn't realize we were being followed until they were right behind us.

Oops.

A white utility van--and not the one with the FBI agents in it, but the one with Jac and Craig in it, Jac driving like a madman.

I'd take the FBI goons any day of the week over Jac and Craig. At least the feds let me see my family.

"Rob. We've got company," I said.

Rob said a bad word and motioned for his buddies to speed up their bikes (which they didn't seem to mind very much…).

The van was getting closer now. I could see Jac's face. He looked angry. No, I take that back: he looked livid. Positively out of his mind with rage.

He leered at me from behind the windshield. Craig shot a look of sympathy at me. He seemed very nice considering his brother was a wacko.

Jac was getting closer and closer. He came close to hitting us several times. Rob had the bike going as fast as he could, but who knew a utility van could go so fast? Unfortunately, there were no cops out on the road because it was, after all, Christmas Eve; everyone was enjoying dinners and dysfunctional family get-togethers, no one would be paying attention to about five motorcycles and a utility van going down the highway.

After about an hour, we lost them. They had to stop for gas because, as Rob's friend pointed out, utility vans probably get about ten miles to a gallon, gas mileage wise.

So the empty gas tank gave us enough time to lose them because we drove on for a few minutes and stopped at a motel to wait for them to come looking for us, during which time we'd give them time to pass us, then we'd leave.

Only we never saw them again. Not that night, anyway, so we continued on.

On and on we drove, and eventually Rob and his crew stopped for gas.

"How did you know where I was?" I asked Rob.

"I can't tell you now while everyone's around. I'll tell you tomorrow," he said.

For a guy who'd just confessed that he loved me a few weeks before, and driven for six hours in the mid-December weather on Christmas Eve, he didn't seem too enthused about seeing me.

Damn.