A/N: Wow! I am so overwhelmed by all the positive response to this story. 65 alerts, 24 reviews! That's amazing! SO thank you all for taking time to leave me a little note. I didn't get a chance to respond to each of you, instead opting to keep writing, so I hope you'll excuse me for that.

Many of you stated that you haven't seen the movie Taken, but for those of you who have, you know that it deals with human trafficking, and more specifically trafficking into the sex trade. While this story will delve into that arena, I want to assuage your fears and state up front that neither Sookie nor Pam will actually be treated in that manner, though the threat will be there. I just wanted to put that warning out there just in case the topic disturbs any of you.

P.S I don't own SVM...Here is the next chapter.

Chapter 2: A Simple Errand

SPOV

The problem with living in a small town was that there's basically no amenities, well at least any convenient amenities. I had one simple task to achieve today, pick up a new crockpot so that I could make my famous pulled pork for my boyfriend. The issue was that in Bon Temps, no one sold crockpots. The Ace Hardware was my best bet, but even then that was a longshot.

So in order to buy a new crockpot, I had to make the one hour round trip trek (not to mention wasting a quarter tank of gas) into Shreveport so that I could pick one up at the Wal-Mart. And why did I have to run that particular errand? Well, my boyfriend, Bill Compton, insisted that I make him my famous pulled pork.

I had been dating Bill for about five months, and he was everything that a small town girl like me could ever dream of. He was smart, wealthy, charming and above all he had impeccable manners. Had my grandmother still been alive, I just knew that she would love him to pieces.

Bill was not from Bon Temps originally which only added to his appeal. He moved here six months ago from New Orleans, though he had originally been from Clinton, Mississippi, which was a small suburb just west of Jackson. Bill worked as a freelance computer programmer and therefore was able to work from home and at his leisure, though he was never one to ignore me in favor of work, which I found very respectful.

Bill had been raving about my cooking and was pretty insistent that I make him my pork; oddly enough he was very specific that he wanted it today. I didn't mind indulging him in his whims simply because he never really asked anything of me and that translated into the bedroom as well.

I cared for Bill a great deal, but I didn't love him, not yet at least. I felt like I was close though. However, it was my own personal belief that I abstain from sex until I at least fell in love with a man, and so far I just hadn't fallen. I really hoped to love Bill though; lord knows I found him attractive enough.

So it was because I felt like indulging my boyfriend's caprices that I found myself making the long slog to the Shreveport Wal-Mart.

When I pulled into the parking lot, there were hardly any empty spaces, and the one that I did see I couldn't park there because the jerk in the next space over was taking up part of the free space I wanted. Didn't surprise me though, the arrogant jerk was driving a cherry red Corvette sports car. Stupid, entitled narcissist. I hated people who thought they were too self-important to abide by the basic principles of common courtesy.

Oh well, I kept driving up the lane and found a spot not too much farther back. I didn't mind walking a little bit farther; lord knows I could stand a little exercise. I was a healthy girl, but still I knew I could benefit from losing a few pounds. Bill never complained about my curves, and I was happy for the most part, so I didn't bother.

I quickly made my way into the store and found what I was looking for, along with a few other items. Why is it that you go into Wal-Mart with the sole purpose of buying just one thing and you end up spending a hundred bucks?

The store was madness though, so much so, that you would think it was the holidays. Still, I managed to check out, though my bank account was a little lighter, and I made my way out to my car.

As I was putting my purchases into my trunk, I noticed a very young girl wondering the parking lot. She was crying and she looked lost. I couldn't help but immediately feel sorry for the little girl. She was young, maybe five or six and had long pale blonde hair, almost the same as mine.

My heart went out to her, as I remember getting separated from my mother at the Shreveport Mall when I was six. It was just a few months before her and my father's untimely deaths, so the memory was all the more significant to me. I remember thinking that I was going to be lost forever and that I wouldn't have a home to go back to and that I'd never get to see my brother Jason again. I remember being completely terrified and just plain lost. Though I don't remember much about my childhood, that memory has always stuck with me.

After I put my purchases in the trunk, I looked around thinking surely somebody would come and claim the terrified little girl in a few moments. But after I waited a few more minutes, she had yet to be claimed, so I knew what I had to do, hopefully what any good person would do and that was to find out where her mother was.

I approached her carefully, because I didn't want her to be frightened of me.

"Hi sweetie, I'm Sookie." I said bending down to her level. She didn't immediately respond because her tears were overwhelming. Poor thing was beyond scared.

"What's your name?" I asked in a cheerful voice.

"PPPamela Northman." She replied stuttering just a bit. Her sweet angelic voice broke my heart. No child should ever have to feel that scared.

"Well Pamela Northman, it looks like your mommy is lost." I said taking her small hand in mine in an attempt to soothe her.

"My mommy is in heaven." She replied immediately. I realized my mistake in assuming that she was separated from her mother and I felt awful for it. I should have known better, after all I had firsthand experience when dealing with people who asked after my mother, on the assumption that I still had a living one.

"Okay sweetie, can you be a brave girl and we'll go find the person who brought you here?" I asked wiping the tears from her face.

"Uh huh. My daddy is the one that's lost, that's our car." She said and pointed to the ostentatious red sports car that had taken up nearly two spaces. The same car whose owner I had silently cursed and accused of being the narcissist. Seriously? What self-respecting father would cart around his toddler daughter in that car?

I took the little beauty's hand in mine and was about to begin walking back into the store when a white SUV came speeding up the lane and skidded to a halt right next to us. Before I had a chance to run, the door of the SUV flew open and a man jumped out. Scared and unsure of what was happening, I dropped my purse and clutched Pamela close to me. I thought for sure that all he wanted was to rob me of my belongings, so at the time it made sense to surrender my valuables and clutch the little girl. But that wasn't what the man wanted. It all happened so fast, that if I had to do anything differently, I'm not sure what I could've done.

The man was broad shouldered, but wasn't terribly muscular, though he did have muscles. He had black hair and he was wearing a white wife beater and black jeans. But the most distinguishing thing about him was his face. His features were rather attractive, but what stood out was the tear drop tattoo he had on the corner of his left eye. I guess it was what one would describe as a "jail tat". He was evil personified.

In an instant, he grabbed little Pamela and me all in one scoop and threw us unceremoniously in the SUV. He closed the door and the driver sped off.

Both Pamela and myself began screaming, though once our kidnapper threw up in the van he made sure to stop us real quick.

"What are you doing? Where are you taking us? Who are you?" I shouted, trembling terribly.

"Shut up cunt!" the kidnapper said and slapped me hard. He pulled out a knife and I reached for Pamela and held her close. She was crying uncontrollably and buried her head into my chest. I couldn't even feel the pain in my cheek, because I was too worried about little Pamela.

In that moment, I would have given anything for it to just be me in that car. I would've gladly volunteered myself to spare that little girl from the horrors that she was being subjected to.

I didn't understand why we had been targeted. It was broad daylight for Christ's sake! I didn't know who these people were and I wasn't sure who the target was, myself or Pamela, or perhaps we were just indiscriminate and unsuspecting targets. What I did know was that the longer we stayed in that van, the lower our chances of survival were.

Pamela was shaking and crying and mumbling about wanting to go home to her daddy and it slayed my heart.

"You do anything stupid and I'll slit your throat, got it toots?" The kidnapper spat and he moved the knife to my throat, grazing Pamela's hair.

"Mmm Hmm." Was all I could manage as a response. Tears began to stream down my face and I was afraid that we wouldn't survive.

"I'm not going to tie you unless I have to. Boss man demands you to be unharmed, though I'll kill you if it comes to it." He sneered. I didn't know who "boss man" was, but at least I knew that I was the target. That revelation made my stomach churn. Had I not tried to help little Pamela, she wouldn't be caught up in the mess. And I had no doubts that he would kill me if he had too.

So many questions flashed across my mind, none of which I was rational enough to try and deliberate. Obviously I was the intended target, but why? I was just a small time barmaid from a Podunk town. I had no family except Jason and we both stayed out of trouble. Well me more so than him. But cattin' around hardly qualified as a criminal offense.

Judging by the kidnapper's tear drop tattoo, I was certain that he had seen the inside of the penitentiary at least a time or two.

"Do whatever you want to me, just leave the little girl out of it." I managed to croak in between my tears and the irrepressible convulsions my body had decided were necessary.

He made an indistinguishable noise which caused spit to leave his mouth. "Not fucking likely toots. The girl is my insurance policy." He thundered.

"Lochlan." The woman in the driver's seat said in a warning tone.

Lochlan? Okay, so that didn't give me much, but it was a start. I knew that I had to think quickly, because this little girl didn't deserve to be involved in whatever this was. I regrouped a bit, taking calming breaths. If I was to get this little girl out of here alive, I had to buck up and think logically.

The SUV we were in was large, but not large enough to get out without having to engage in our kidnapper. Pamela and I were seated in a bucket seat right behind the woman who was driving and Lochlan was sitting in the other bucket seat next to me and behind the front passenger seat. Though he was mostly sitting on his knees in front of me holding the knife close to Pamela and myself as kind of an unspoken warning.

The windows of the SUV were tinted, but not so dark that I couldn't see out. I knew Shreveport fairly well and by that time the driver had made her way to the highway. We were on I-220 heading north. From what I knew, I-220 was a loop that was situated around Shreveport proper, so most likely we were either headed north into Arkansas or we were going to end up going east towards Ruston or Minden.

I could've kicked myself for wasting so much time, since now that we were on the highway there weren't any opportunities for the van to come to a stop. I figured once the van stopped, I could unlock the door and at the very least get Pamela out of the car and if the stars aligned I could escape as well.

All I had to do was wait for the perfect moment. Unfortunately for Pamela and especially for me, that moment never came.