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With every second, the fear grew, and it was like I had guitar strings wrapped around my neck that were getting tighter and tighter.

I stopped kicking when I heard a heavy door open.

Hinges groaned. There was a rustling sound. Then a click.

Light, steady footsteps approached.

I bit the insides of my cheeks to stop myself from screaming.

“Why are you doing this? Let me go,” I shouted, but the words came out broken because my throat was so dry, it felt as if I’d swallowed a mouthful of sand.

A figure appeared out of the darkness.

“Let me go,” I yelled again, yanking on the chains.

The man wore a ski mask that covered his head and face. Black pants. Boots. A long-sleeved black turtleneck. And black leather gloves.

I realized that he’d made sure every part of him was concealed so there were no distinguishing marks. The only thing I could tell about him was that he had to be over six feet and was lithe, like a runner or something. Callum was lithe and over six feet. But why hide his face? I’d know it was him as soon as he spoke.

“What do you want with me?” I ground out.

He casually walked toward the opposite side of the caged platform, then up a few stairs and lifted a latch. A gate swung open, and he stepped inside. He didn’t bother closing it behind him before he strode across the mat toward me.

I hated that I couldn’t stand and was forced to kneel in front of him. “Why are you doing this?” I screamed.

He stopped just beyond the reach of my chains. He didn’t say anything, his empty, emotionless brown eyes watching me.

Brown eyes. Callum had green eyes.

“Who the fuck are you?” I shouted, my voice cracking.

The small slit in the ski mask where his mouth was visible revealed a smile. My insides froze. Because it wasn’t a normal smile. This was different. Unhinged.

“Ethan North’s little sister.”

My breath locked in my throat, and my fingers closed around the chain.

This wasn’t some random kidnapping. He knew exactly who I was.

He reached in his left pants pocket and pulled something out. I heard the crackle of the cellophane, and my heart stopped.

That sound. The cellophane.

No. No. Please.

He unwrapped something. “You know, I never liked these as a kid. They always got stuck between my teeth.” He popped whatever it was into his mouth.

He chewed, and the smell slammed into me. I gagged on the caramel scent, and my stomach twisted.

It couldn’t be. No. It couldn’t. Why? Why?

He inhaled a deep breath. “Ah, the smell of caramel. So decadent. And the juices…. Mmm.”

This was the man who raped me. Who stole my innocence. Jackson’s father.

This was why I never wanted to know. I didn’t want to know the ugly side of something so beautiful.

I jerked on the chain. “It was you. You…. You raped me.”

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