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Brielle clung to me, her body trembling. I took a breath to steady myself—to find some semblance of courage—and led her back toward the cabin.
Drew watched us with a dispassionate expression. “Let’s go. I don’t have all day. We need to get out of here before Preston comes back.”
Wait, what? Preston wasn’t there?
Drew couldn’t be there to rescue us, could he? If he were there to help, why would he threaten to shoot us if we ran?
None of this made sense. But considering Drew was armed, I was reluctant to start asking questions.
He motioned for us to walk in front of him. The gun was still in his hand and my back tightened as I passed him. It felt like walking to my death. Any second, a bullet would rip through my body from behind.
Would Zachary ever find me? Would he know what had happened to me?
It was hard not to let fear take over. But I couldn’t give up now. I held onto Brielle as Drew took us around to the front of the cabin and put us in the backseat of a car. He didn’t say a word as he got in. Just set the gun in his lap and turned the car around.
I didn’t know where he was taking us, but I took courage in the fact that he hadn’t shot us at the cabin. If he’d been there to kill us, he could have done it easily. Moving us wasn’t necessarily a good sign either, but at least it meant I still had a chance to find a way out.
I could still get away. Somehow.
CHAPTER 37
Zachary
The drive to the cabin felt like an eternity. I had zero respect for the speed limit and, to his credit, Garrett didn’t say a word. We headed north on the wet highway, winding through the mountains. Thankfully the storm had let up, but the steel gray sky threatened more rain.
We didn’t talk. Didn’t speculate about what we were going to find or try to make a plan B in case this was a dead end. Just drove in silence, united in grim determination to find her.
The property didn’t have an address so much as coordinates, and Google maps certainly didn’t recognize it. I had to trust Garrett to navigate as best he could. He took us off the highway in the middle of nowhere, down a long road with enough potholes to break my suspension. I had to swerve more than once, my tires skidding on the wet pavement.
“Turn left,” he said out of the blue.
I didn’t see anything that looked remotely like a road. Just trees. “Where?”
“There!”
I slammed on the brakes to slow down enough to make the turn and we flew around the corner, tires digging into the mud of a poorly maintained gravel road.
The ruts were deep and tree branches scraped the sides of the truck. I had to stop clenching my teeth or I was going to crack a molar with all the bumps. My entire body was saturated with adrenaline, no sign of the fatigue of a sleepless night.
She was out there. We were going to find her.
Hang on, Marigold. I’m almost there.
Finally, a structure emerged in the distance. A small cabin—probably one story with a loft—sat in the middle of a clearing, looking oddly cozy and innocent from the outside. I half expected to see a curl of smoke from the chimney.
Garrett and I got out and he motioned for me to wait before approaching the door. As much as I wanted to barrel inside, I knew he was right. There weren’t any vehicles that I could see, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t here.
Maybe it just meant we got lucky and Preston had dumped her off and left.
Without saying a word, we crept up to the front door. There was a locking gate latch—a way to lock the door from the outside.
But it hung from the doorframe. Someone had dismantled it.
Garrett shrugged. I didn’t know what that meant, either. He nodded, indicating he was ready to go inside, and drew his weapon, so I let him take the lead, and followed him in.
No one jumped out or pointed a gun at us, so that was a good first step.
The first thing I noticed was the cold. It wasn’t any warmer inside than out. We took slow steps around the ground floor, checking in the kitchen and bathroom.
