Yay, I have readers! That's always a good thing. Thanks to all of you who reviewed for your kind words. Here's the second part. Enjoy, and please review!

Chapter 2

4:10 p.m.

How quickly feelings of excitement could grotesquely mutate into sinking horror was not lost on Don in the moments that followed. The instant he registered the feeling of a gun to his neck, his eyes slid back to the rear-view mirror in a desperate attempt to locate the source of the gun. Finding nothing, Don concluded that his mystery assailant was lurking behind his seat, out of his line of sight.

Tension seemed to slow time down, Don noted as he sat waiting for some reasoning to manifest itself regarding this sudden course of events. What was really only seconds seemed to stretch into minutes as Don waited with his eyes glued to the mirror. Finally, a face emerged from somewhere in the downward direction. Unfortunately, Don couldn't get a good look, because his attacker's face was partially obscured by the shadow cast into the car by the carport, as well as neighboring trees. Through his peripheral vision, Don could make out Adam Lorenzic's car pulling out of the parking lot slightly to his right.

"Afternoon," a voice greeted coldly from behind Don. "Hope I'm not ruining any big plans of yours." Don gritted his teeth at the sarcastic chuckle sounding from his backseat. "Here's how it's going to be, Eppes. You do exactly what I tell you, and I'll leave your brother, your father, and your wife alone."

Don's heart stopped at these words. Clearly, the mystery man in his backseat knew him, and knew who his family was. He stared silently back at the smug man, trying to figure out who he was.

The man was laughing again, a sound that made Don cringe.

"Oh wait, I guess Ms. Brooks isn't your wife yet," the man was saying. "Oh well. Just think of it this way, Agent Eppes. By doing this now, I've saved her from becoming a widow."

Don's heart and stomach dropped for probably the fifth or sixth time in the last minute. He was in some serious trouble, and at this point in time he had no real option but to cooperate with his captor's wishes. He had his gun, but it was under his tuxedo jacket and therefore not easily accessible. Not that it would do him any good with his attacker behind him.

That point became moot anyway when his captor reached a hand to his hip, gingerly pulling the gun out of his holster and back to the backseat. Don sat wordlessly, with his hands on the steering wheel, gun still pressing into his neck.

"What do you want from me?" Don ground out through his still-clenched teeth.

The man behind him snickered. "All I want from you right now is to put this car in gear and drive. Don't try anything, don't signal to anyone out there, just keep your hands on the wheel and drive." He jabbed the gun harder into Don's neck for emphasis—as if I need any emphasis, Don thought bitterly.

With no other viable options, Don pulled the gearshift into reverse and slowly backed out of his space. He kept silent until he reached the parking lot's exit, where he stopped the car briefly.

"Which way?" he asked hesitantly.

"Left," the man behind him growled. "You're going to get on 210."

"All right," Don complied. He turned the wheel to the left, casting a glance off to the right—the direction he would have turned to head to CalSci and his wedding. I'm so sorry, Robin. Don only hoped that someone would soon find out what happened to him and that Robin wouldn't think he bolted from his own wedding.

His heart ached as he drove the opposite direction than he should have been, rain splashing relentlessly onto the windshield.

5:45 p.m.

At what point would it be okay for panic to set in? Was it when your fiancé was running five minutes late to his own wedding? No, Robin remained calm then, figuring with their families' promise of a late arrival, Don's slight tardiness was understandable. Ten minutes? Weather-related traffic issues could certainly be slowing things down, so a few deep breaths kept Robin calm once more.

After fifteen minutes, the churning in Robin's gut began to rise. Surely any man with any amount of common sense would use his cell phone and call someone when he was fifteen minutes late to his own goddamn wedding.

Twenty-five minutes after the wedding was supposed to start came and Don was the only one unaccounted for. His father was there, along with her parents and her sister, straight from the airport. Charlie and Amita were there. All the guests were there. There weren't many—just a few close relatives on each side as well as some of their closer work colleagues—but they were all there. Larry, who was officiating, was there.

Don was the only one missing then.

He would have a crap-ton of missed calls on his cell phone, Robin figured bitterly. There would be calls from her, Charlie, Alan, Colby, Nikki, Liz, and even David who had flown in from DC for the ceremony. Unfortunately, Robin's asshole of a fiancé hadn't bothered to answer any of those calls.

Now, forty-five minutes after the wedding's original start time—but fifteen minutes after Alan's earlier promised arrival time—Robin stood alone in the women's restroom on the third floor of the CalSci student union building that had been temporarily transformed into a makeshift dressing room. She glared at herself in the mirror, noting her expertly-curled hair, simple-but-elegant white dress, and perfectly-defined make up.

She was pissed. How could she not be? She was supposed to have been married by now, but instead her fiancé was absolutely nowhere to be found. Everything was ruined. She huffed out a short breath. Don was making her into a statistic—forcing her to join the ranks of those who'd been left at the altar. Her. Robin Brooks, dumped like a pile of garbage. Where could he possibly be?

The door creaked open. Robin took a deep breath, forcing her emotions back under control. Her sister Rachel poked her head in, silently asking for permission to enter. Robin nodded a little, watching her older sister enter through the reflection of the bathroom mirror.

"Hey," Rachel greeted softly as she carefully swung an arm around Robin's shoulders. "You okay?"

Robin shrugged, not trusting herself to speak.

"If this guy really walked out on you, I'll kill him myself when they find him," Rachel promised, getting a small, watery snort out of Robin.

There was a knock on the wall outside the bathroom.

"Who is it?" Rachel called.

"It's Alan, Charlie, and Liz," came a voice that sounded like Alan's. "Is it okay if we come in there?"

"Sure Alan, come on in," Robin allowed.

The three of them entered the bathroom, each with a similar expression on their faces. A mixture of worry and deep concerned painted all of them. Robin watched silently as the filed in. Alan walked directly to her, immediately pulling her into a warm embrace.

"I'm so sorry," Alan whispered to her. "We've got David and Colby heading over to his apartment. Maybe they can figure out what happened."

"Nikki's calling all the hospitals in the area," Liz informed her. "I hope nothing's happened, but God, with this storm, who even knows."

Robin pulled back from Alan, feeling her stomach drop like a stone. Oh my God. She'd been so busy being angry with Don, she hadn't even considered that something could have happened to him beyond his control. No. The roads were so wet and slick—Liz was right. Any number of things could have happened. Her mind flashed with all the possible ways and points along the drive from Don's apartment to here that he could have gotten in a serious accident. Her eyes closed as she struggled to maintain composure.

She felt like such an idiot. How could she have just assumed that Don had made a conscious decision not to show up? He could be out there somewhere—wet, cold, and hurt—and here she was, silently accusing him of dumping her on their wedding day. How could she have so readily accepted that the man she loved would actually do that to her?

But wait, was she actually hoping that some terrible fate had befallen her fiancé?

Which was worse? Having the man you intended to marry walk out on you on your wedding day, or having him miss your wedding because he was seriously injured . . . or worse?

Well, the latter was definitely worse, but still.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the conversation around her.

"Well, maybe he's just . . . stuck in a huge traffic jam?" Charlie speculated desperately, clearly not believing his own words. "I mean, that's what happened to you, Dad."

"Yes, it is," Alan agreed, "but I picked up my phone and called someone."

"Well, you know, the storm is still going," Charlie supplied weakly. "So maybe there's some problem with a cell tower somewhere. I'm sure he's fine. I'm sure he's on his way."

Robin huffed out a short breath. "Yeah, right. Sure, he's sitting in his car somewhere between here and his apartment, frustrated because he can't get here and it just so happens he can't even tell us he can't get here. Come on, Charlie, that would be some bad luck."

Charlie looked stricken, and Robin regretted the harshness of her tone.

"I'm sorry, Charlie," she apologized softly. "If you're right, that's great. But let's face it. He only lives maybe ten minutes from here. And he's an hour late. I don't think traffic could possibly be that bad."

"All right, all right," Alan cut in. "There's no point in speculating. We'll find him, and we'll know what happened soon." He sighed a deep sigh. Robin noted the strain of worry pulling at his eyes. "I just hope to God he didn't get in an accident or anything."

Everyone was silent for a moment, before Liz shifted towards the door. "I'm going to check in with Nikki and see is she's found anything out," she announced before slipping out the door.

"I don't know what would be worse," Robin quietly confessed. "Don getting in an accident so serious that he can't call to tell us he's not coming, or Don intentionally skipping out on his own wedding." She felt Rachel's hand on her arm, rubbing it soothingly. "Either way, I'm clearly not getting married today."

Charlie's eyes closed and he swallowed, and Alan pulled her into another hug.

"Oh, Robin," he breathed. "You know, as Donnie's father, I have to say. If he did run away from this and is okay somewhere, I can live with it. I mean, I'll be extremely extremely angry with him for what he's put us through, but mostly I'll be happy he's okay. I'd almost forgotten that it might not be quite the same for you."

Robin's throat constricted, thinking about what was left unsaid. Either way, it seemed she was losing the man she loved. It all boiled down to one simple thing: If they found Don and he was unharmed and alive, she'd have to kill him.

TBC