I Told My Stepbrother to Kidnap His Crush, So He Kidnapped Me Chapter 10

I Told My Stepbrother to Kidnap His Crush, So He Kidnapped Me Chapter 10

The driver asked, “Miss, what were you doing way out 

here?” 

“Gardening,” I said without flinching. 

He glanced at me in the rearview mirror, probably thinking young people have the strangest hobbies. 

go. 

I didn’t care. I leaned back and thought about where to 

Go back? 

Yeah, right. I was living in Blake’s house. 

Go to my mom’s? Even if she and my stepdad weren’t on 

vacation, their house was also his house. 

I opened a travel app. Scrolled. 

Everywhere looked good. Then I remembered the 

notebook I’d seen. 

Craving that mint iced tea. I thought about Willow Creek. 

But I’d already been there. Somewhere else. Harper’s Mill. 

Also in the same region. Never been. Small historic town 

with good food. 

Perfect. Booked it. One click. Got to Harper’s Mill at 2 

p.m. My hotel was in the old town, right next to Sandy Creek. 

Checked in, dropped my bag, and collapsed on the bed 

for a bit. 

My phone buzzed. 

Blake: [Where are you?] 

I looked at the message, flipped my phone face–down. 

Then flipped it back. [Out.] 

(Where?) 

[Not telling.] 

He was typing for a long time. 

Finally: [Be safe.] 

Sandy Creek was lovely. 

Small, not too crowded. The main street was quiet, just a few parked trucks and pickup trucks lining the curb. 

Old storefronts on both sides, brick facades, faded signs, 

screen doors that hadn’t been replaced in decades. The 

smell of grilled burgers drifted out from somewhere. 

An old lady had a folding table set up on the sidewalk, 

selling homemade brownies. A cooler next to her held 

bottled water and soda. 

I bought a brownie. 

Fresh from that morning, soft and fudgy. 

One bite, and the chocolate hit–rich, dark, perfectly 

sweet. 

The old lady smiled at me. “Traveling alone, sweetheart?” 

I nodded, mouth full. 

“Good for you. My granddaughter’s your age. She stays home playing video games all day.” 

I swallowed. “What else is good to eat around here, 

ma’am?” 

Her eyes lit up. She started counting on her fingers. “You 

tried our pulled pork? Famous around here. And there’s 

chicken and dumplings–if you like comfort food, you have to 

try it. Oh, and bourbon–glazed ribs. So good.” 

I memorized every word. 

She got so excited she almost offered to take me 

herself. 

After I said goodbye, I went hunting. 

First, pulled pork. Bought two bags–one for now, one to 

take home. Light and crumbly, salty and savory. 

Then I found a diner and ordered chicken and dumplings. 

Tender chicken, fluffy dumplings floating in a creamy 

broth. 

I polished off the whole bowl, broth and all. 

The owner stared from behind the counter. “Kid, you’ve 

got quite an appetite.” 

“I’m still growing,” I said without missing a beat. 

He looked me over, decided not to ask my age. 

Then I passed a breakfast shop and grabbed a zucchini 

fritter. 

Don’t know if it was a local specialty, but it was good. Golden, crispy, hot enough to burn my tongue. The zucchini shreds were fragrant. 

I walked by a craft shop. In the window were handmade quilts and wooden signs. 

I went in and bought a hand–whittled wooden bird. 

The old man running the shop saw I liked it and carved me a small fox. 

“For you, sweetheart.” 

I was thrilled. “Thank you, sir!” 

He waved a hand. “Don’t mention it. I’ve got nothing else to do.” 

What a nice man. 

By afternoon, my legs were tired. 

I found a little wooden bridge. Below, the creek ran slow and shallow. Old brick buildings lined both banks, oak trees hanging low over the water, leaves brushing the surface. 

The sun was setting, turning the water gold. 

A kid was skipping stones upstream. The soft plunk of each rock hitting the water. 

I was thirsty. 

Remembered a drink shop I’d passed. They sold mint 

iced tea. 

I ran back, bought a cup, ran back to the bridge, and found a good spot to lean on the railing. 

One sip. Cool mint hit my brain. 

Some people say it tastes like toothpaste. 

Liars. 

I took a big happy sip and watched the scenery. 

The wind carried the smell of water and grass. A tabby 

cat sat on a distant roof, licking its paw. 

“What are you drinking?” 

The voice came from my left. 

“Mint iced tea,” I answered without looking. “So good. 

Got it from that shop over there. Three bucks.” 

Then I realized. 

That voice was familiar. 

I turned my head. 

Blake stood next to me in a light gray shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms. Like he’d just escaped a business meeting. 

He leaned on the railing, looking at me.