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Itry to move but can’t.
My head throbs. Memory crashes over me like a wrecking ball. Aiden walking me to his car and tossing Fallon unceremoniously into the backseat. The second I was inside, he hit my head with the butt of the gun and my vision exploded into darkness.
Slowly, I force my eyes open.
I’m in a cabin. Eden. The bedroom. The tableside light is on, casting the wooden room in an eerie glow. Davis’s coffee mug is still on the nightstand, but the bed is unmade. There’re strange blankets that weren’t here before.
Aiden’s been staying here.All this time.The thought is enough to make me want to puke.
I turn my head to the right and the entire room swims.
Fallon’s tied to a chair beside me. Her chin hangs to her chest. Dried blood streaks her temple. She has a concussion, or worse.
Please be okay. Please be alive.
“Fallon,” I hiss. “Wake up.”
Please wake up.
Silence.
My heart hammers in my chest. We are trapped. He’s going to kill us. Make us suffer. That much is clear.
A shuddery breath tears out of me.
Breathe, Koty.
I fight the rising panic and instead focus on escape. I did it once. I can do it again. First step—get free.
Back and forth, I rotate my wrists. They’re tied behind me, but my legs aren’t. The cheese knife is heavy in the front pocket of my hoodie, a reminder that I still have a weapon up my sleeve.
A low groan.
I look over as Fallon’s eyes flutter open, cross, then focus on me. “And you were worried about me riding bulls,” she murmurs.
I choke on a sob-laugh.
“Koty. What do we do?” She stares at me with the most terrified eyes I’ve ever seen. A sudden surge of protection zips through my heart.
I jerk against the ties, expand my chest, lengthen my arms. “We’re getting out of here.”
“Fucking great idea,” she grunts, following suit. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
I smile. I’ve never in my life been so glad to hear sarcasm from my sister.
That’s when Fallon stiffens. Her eyes widen, and I follow her gaze to Aiden in the doorway. Always so quiet. A lurking ghost.
“Bout time you woke up,” he says to Fallon. “You couldn’t miss the show.”
“Fuck you,” she growls.
Smirking, he drags a chair from the corner of the room to sit in front of me. Gone is the gun. In its place, a butcher knife. My mouth goes dry.
“Always trying to escape, Koty. Even when it’s hopeless. Even when there’s no running. Not from me.” His voice is rational, controlled.
“You’re in control,” I say, still jerking at the ropes. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?” I can’t keep the hate out of my voice.
With one hand, he grabs my hair, jerking my neck sharply. I cry out. Fallon screams. Aiden leans in, his face an inch from mine. The scent of cinnamon is overpowering, and I fight the urge to vomit. I fight the urge to go back to the night he broke my arm. To relive that life. To be beaten. Broken. I am stronger than that.
