Matthew Wilson is an anxious, introverted librarian with an amazing fiancé Hugh, or at least he thinks so. But his world unravels when he's kidnapped by Chanse Collins, who claims to be a detective and tells Matthew that Hugh is plotting to kill him.
Matthew is forced to abandon his carefully planned life, including caring for his comatose mother and preparing for his wedding. Instead, he finds himself on the run with a stranger he isn’t sure he can trust.
As the two cross the country in search of safety, Matthew begins to question everything he thought he knew -- about Hugh, about Chanse, even about himself. Torn between love, fear, and survival, he must uncover the truth before it’s too late. Is Chanse his savior? Or will he end up becoming Hugh’s victim after all?
“Do I need to remind you of the events of today?!” Matthew glared. “Calgary is like, three or four hours away!”
“I know, I had to drive here. Settle in, we’ll be on the road for a bit.”
“You’re too nonchalant right now.”
“Well, I was pissed off before. I won’t lie, I still kind of am, but you’re so absurd it’s funny.”
“I’m so glad I could put a smile on your face, but my world is falling apart!” Matthew, finally feeling he was properly expressing his anger, pushed the pictures and folder into the backpack, throwing it into the backseat with much more force than needed. He groaned and smacked the door, immediately regretting that decision, he winced and shook his hand.
That only brought more laughter from Chanse. “Holy fuck, quit it!” He leaned forward in his seat, trying to stop himself from laughing and focus on the road. “I -- I can’t drive and laugh at your dumbass!”
“Then fucking stop doing it!”
“I can’t, you keep doing dumb, funny shit!”
So frustrated and so done with everything, Matthew crossed his arms, sitting back in his seat, tears filling his eyes again. “I can’t handle all of this bullshit.”
Chanse glanced over and chuckled a bit. Finally calming down, he sighed slightly and looked back at the road. “I’m sorry for laughing, but in shitty situations like this, it’s good to find a bit of humor.”
“You’re terrible at the whole comforting thing.”
“Hence why I’m a detective and not a therapist.”
Matthew huffed as he looked at him. “From what I’ve seen so far, you aren’t exactly a good detective either. Even if this was undercover work, you’ve told me who you are and you got me by kidnapping me! You held a damn gun to my back!”
“Yeah, that’s all true, but I couldn’t just walk up to you and tell you everything I already have. You would’ve thought I was crazy and freaked out and told Hugh,” Chanse glanced over at him again. “And you trust me enough to have actual conversations with me now, only took an hour.”
Matthew paused, realizing Chanse wasn’t wrong but he wouldn’t let him simply be right. “I think I’ve been manipulated.”
“Either way, you aren’t having a panic attack over me trying to help you.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m not scared or that I completely trust you.”
“I understand you’re scared and I don’t expect you to trust me much, we just met in bad circumstances and I told you something that anyone would reasonably question.”
Matthew wiped his eyes and sniffled. “Even if what you say is really true, I won’t ever actually trust you, never completely. You still kidnapped me.”
“I hate to tell you, but my patience is getting thin here. I’m not talking in circles with you for three damn hours.”
He was about to continue the conversation, keeping it in the loop they were in purely to piss off Chanse, but he heard his name on the radio.
Clearly also hearing this, Chanse quickly turned up the volume. “A man named Matthew Wilson has been reported as kidnapped. He’s twenty-six, he has tan skin, dyed white hair, bright green eyes, and was last seen wearing a long sleeve blue shirt and black bell bottom jeans. He was reported to have been pushed into a black truck by a Caucasian man with dark brown hair, wearing a black sweater and dark blue pants. If you believe you have seen either of these two, please contact --”
Chanse muted the radio and hit the steering wheel. “Fuck! I was sure no one fucking saw us in the library. I paid that moron in the security room to turn off the damn cameras. Who fucking saw us?”
“Probably a passerby, you were pretty busy shoving me into the damn truck.”
“Shut the fuck up, I barely pushed you.” Chanse glared as he tried to figure out what to do next.
“By the sounds of the radio, it looks like you pushed me.”
Before Chanse had a minute to yell back at Matthew, a buzzing came from his pocket. He rushed, stumbling a bit to pull the burner out from his pocket, checking the number before he answered. “Captain Creed?”
A sigh came from the other end. “I got word of the report, I’m assuming you have Mr. Wilson with you, correct?”
“Yeah, he’s here.”
Being able to easily hear the conversation, Matthew looked over, still annoyed, he asked, “Talking about me?”
