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I would have to try to save myself, just in case. Before anything happened.
Anything worse, anyway.
But how?
My ribs were screaming bloody murder. I could barely pull in a proper breath. I didn’t even want to mention my shoulder that was wrenched backward for the first time. It was like right after the attack all over again.
Only this time, I didn’t have Jass to find me, to sit with me, to get me help, to make sure I was okay.
God knew what could happen to me before someone even knew I was gone.
So it didn’t matter how much it hurt, I had to try to, I don’t know, attack him or something. Catch him off-guard enough for me to get away.
How I was going to manage that with my hands cuffed behind my back was beyond me.
But I had to at least try.
Or maybe I could try to talk him out of it? Sometimes victims did that, right? They tried to placate their abductors, get them to calm down.
Though my mouth was duct-taped.
A helpless little whimper escaped me. Useless tears stung the backs of my eyes.
This couldn’t be the end for me.
Not when things were just finally starting to get good.
Focus.
I just needed to focus.
Keep my wits about me.
Find a way out.
Hysteria abated for the moment, I tried to breathe through the pain.
It was about then that I realized the ride felt longer than it should have.
Patrick lived in one of the apartment buildings over by the schools.
It should have been a ten-minute drive, max.
But we were still moving.
Where could he be taking me?
Out of town?
Toward the mountains?
Shady Valley was a hop, skip, and jump from Death Valley.
And in the middle of the night, it was a great way to do whatever you wanted to do without anyone seeing. And chances were, you could find a place to leave a body where it wouldn’t be found until it was decomposed and all the evidence was long gone.
All that worry flew out the window, though, when the car finally pulled to a stop a few minutes later.
Not quite long enough to make it to Death Valley.
Before my mind could wander too far, though, the driver’s door was slamming and the trunk was popping.
“Come on,” he said, reaching inward to grab me, pulling me out.
I cried out against my duct tape as my shoes met a gravel path.
“Why do you make me hurt you?” he asked, shaking his head.
His voice wasn’t as livid as it had been when he was calling me a slut and whore, making me wonder if maybe it would be possible to endear myself to him, to get him to trust me enough to take off the tape and cuffs.
Swallowing back the bile at having to pretend to be okay with being near to him, I let out another cry and leaned my face into his shoulder.
“You had to learn your lesson, Delaney,” he said, one of his hands moving out to pat my back. “He’s not the right guy for you. He’s using you,” he added.
I didn’t have to fake the cries that escaped me then, making my body jolt with the sobs.
And I went ahead and let him believe it was because of the news he was breaking to me and not the fact that his hand was pressing against my ribs, and making the pain ricochet across all the closest nerve endings.
“He didn’t deserve to put his filthy hands on you,” Patrick added, his other hand inching just a little too low on my back, almost at my ass.
My memory flashed back to that alley, to being facedown on the cement with every inch of me screaming in pain, and feeling his hands sliding under the waistband of my pants.
A loud sob escaped me as I curled forward, my forehead sliding down his chest.
“What? What’s the matter? Are you crying over that motherfuck—“
My head shook almost violently side to side.
“No?” he asked, grabbing my chin and yanking it upward. “No?” he asked again, tone softer, and that evil had slipped out of his eyes again. “What? What’s the matter then?”
Pulling my chin from his hold, I nodded my head toward my shoulder.
“Oh. Your shoulder,” he said, nodding. “It hurts?” To that, I nodded. “Why do you make me hurt you like this?” he asked, but he didn’t move to undo my cuffs. “Come on, let’s go get you out of the cold.”
I had no chance of getting away with his hand bruising into my arm, so I did the only thing I could do.
I fell into step with him.
But I kept my eyes peeled, looking around, trying to get my bearings.
I saw nothing but land to both sides, and a small house in front of us.
A farm?
It seemed like a farm.
There were farms at the edge of Shady Valley, but no one actually lived on them.
