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The voice in my head was making me angry now. I was good at looking out for myself, that was for sure. Good at running. Good at moving, and laying low, and staying hidden. Shit, I was even good at starting over.
But—
Wincing, I pushed any self-chastising thoughts away. Then I unzipped the satchel all the way, and began stuffing it with everything I’d brought.
It was sad though, because I’d only brought the bare minimum.
“Fuck,” I muttered into the shadowy silence. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!”
The bare essentials. Traveling light. Moving quickly, using mass transit. Paying cash. Keeping my head down…
For a brief moment I wondered what the guys would think. It almost choked me to tears. Would they ever understand that something was very, very wrong? Or would they assume the worst — that my ex-boyfriend just happened to show up in Salem, a thousand miles north of his home. That, plus the not-so-conspicuous fact that I disappeared with him the very next day…
But no, I wasn’t doing this for myself. I was doing it for them. Whether they realized it or not didn’t matter — all that mattered is they’d be safe.
They could think what they wanted of me. In fact, hating me for leaving might even help them move on.
My hands moved quickly and angrily, shoving the rest of my meager belongings into the old satchel. I don’t even know why I’d kept it. I fucking hated the satchel. It was the last thing tying me to—
DING DING!
I froze, instantly, at the sound of the front door bells. My heart leapt into my throat.
“Hello?”
I struggled to recognize the voice, as control over my limbs were returned to me. It wasn’t Erik, or Zane, or Roman’s voice. It wasn’t Louden either.
But…
“C’mon now, don’t play games. I saw you come in.”
I finished stuffing the bag, then zipped it up. Moving slowly, silently, I made my way to the edge of the doorway.
“There’s no back door anymore,” the man said, maybe even a little proudly. “It’s bolted tight from the outside. So you may as well just—”
Suddenly a hand reached out, moving so quickly it made me cry out. The man grabbed me roughly by the hair. His fingers rolled into a tight fist as he pulled me through the doorway and into the light.
“Ah, there, you are!” he laughed evilly. The man pulled again, twisting his wrist at the same time. It jerked my neck painfully sideways, even as I felt dozens of hairs being ripped violently free of my scalp.
I fell to my knees, screaming into my empty storefront.
“It’s way past time you and I had a talk…”
Forty-Eight
SAVANNAH
The hand stayed locked on my hair for another few seconds. It wasn’t until I stopped moving, stopped struggling, that he finally let go.
“You’re not too smart, Julia,” the man sneered. “Did you think we wouldn’t watch this place? And did you really think he’d come alone?”
I looked up slowly into the scowling face of Jarrett. He pulled a swath of greasy hair back from one side of his face, and my eyes went wide.
“Besides, someone’s got to pay for this.”
Jarrett’s entire right cheek and part of his forehead were mottled with ugly pink scars. They extended down to his lip, and even criss-crossed his neck.
“That windshield did a number on me,” he snarled. “Buckling your seatbelt. Steering us straight into that telephone pole…” His right eye twitched in remembrance. “It was a ballsy fucking move, I’ll give you that.”
