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“What am I supposed to do?” I ask.
“I can’t tell you how to cope, Collin. You need to figure out what is best going to help you handle it until Julie comes home. If being with the team helps, do that and don’t feel guilty about it. If being at home helps, do that and the team will understand. If you need to park yourself at the police department until you get some news, do that. Whatever will keep you strongest until she gets home because she’ll need you to be at your best when she gets back.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want to talk about the photo?”
I glance up in confusion from where I’d been staring at the floor. “What?”
“You said someone took your photo in the waiting room.”
“Oh. Right. No. I’ll deal with that later.”
The only thing that matters right now is Julie.
“Jules. I’m so sorry. We’ll get you home. I don’t know how yet, but we’ll get you home. I love you.”
My eyes squeeze closed at the sound of Collin’s tortured voice.
“Isn’t that sweet. Lover boy thinks you’re going home.” Dwight laughs. “He sounds like such a pansy; what were you doing with him, Julie? Really?”
It’s not as if I can respond to him; there’s duct tape over my mouth.
“We’re almost there, angel. Back to where we began.”
I’ve been lying in the backseat of this car since Dwight stuffed me in it. He has my wrists and ankles taped together. He’s been driving on and off since last night; we should have gotten to Florida already, but he keeps stopping for no reason and for longer than necessary. My bladder is about to burst because he’s yet to allow me to get out.
When we finally stop, my heart breaks to see where we are. No wonder it took longer than it should have. We’re in the Keys. Dwight cuts the tape from my ankles and pulls me out of the car.
“Let’s go inside, angel. We have much to do and discuss.” He leads me inside a shady-looking house. I look around, hoping someone will see me, but there’s not a soul around. How is this possible? Where is everyone?
The inside is bare, except for a couch that looks disgusting with stains in various places. I jerk my arm when he leads me there. He raises an eyebrow. I nod toward the hallway and the bathroom I can see from here.
“Oh, forgive me!” He hurries us to the bathroom. Then he proceeds to lower my bottoms so I can do what I need to while he watches over me. Privacy doesn’t exist as long as Dwight is around. He did this last time we were together, so I’m not shocked. I also have to go so badly that I don’t care what he does. Thankfully, he does cut the tape over my hands so I can take care of myself.
But as soon as I wash my hands, back goes the tape. As soon as I’m on the couch, the same for my ankles. This is the same as last time, too. What’s different is when Dwight brings out a long pair of handcuffs. He cuffs one of my ankles and then cuffs the other to a steel table I didn’t notice. The table has been bolted to the floor; Dwight is prepared for any escape I might try to make.
How will anyone find me? Will they think to look in Florida? Despair clutches my heart. Dwight wasn’t prepared last time; it was easier to find a way to escape, but it is clear that he has planned for this. What hope do I have now? He’s outsmarted the police for a year.
My heart breaks; tears glide down my cheeks.
The truth thins my blood.
This is where I’ll die.
“Angel,” Dwight tsks as he squats in front of me, wiping my tears away. “What’s the matter? Don’t you realize I plan to take good care of you? We will be just fine here, I promise. No one can bother us. We met here. We will live here and live happily.”
I nod because I know if I don’t, he’ll get angry and my fight isn’t strong enough for that right now.
Dwight smiles. “Good. I’m tired. I’m going to sleep for a bit before dinner. You rest too.” He stands and leaves for the bedroom.
I sag into the couch. At least I’ll have some time alone for a bit. Unfortunately, that can be bad too. My mind travels to Collin. How is he handling all of this? He didn’t sound too good on the phone. Is he upset with me for not being able to explain everything before I left for Deanna’s? At least he knows what’s going on. At least he knows I’m missing. It sounded like he did. How much he knows about why depends on if he’s found any of the police reports in the closet.
God, I hope so. That’ll
help things. Although, I’m not sure how much, considering I’m not in North Carolina, nor my hometown in Florida. Damn it, no one will ever find me. The chances that I’ll see Collin again are pretty slim. I’ve been at this with Dwight long enough to know that me escaping will be next to impossible.
Praying isn’t something I normally do. However, I find myself closing my eyes and asking the Lord to get me back to North Carolina in one piece and alive.
