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THIRTY-FIVE
All the lugging woke me from whatever drug the asshole shot into my body to knock me out.
I moan and flutter my eyes until my vision clears, only to be engulfed by a sea of darkness.
Panic heightens at the realization that not only is there fabric preventing my screams, but my wrists are tied behind me.
“All right.” My kidnapper yanks down the gag and warns, “Scream, and I’ll chop your fingers off and give you a slow death.”
“What the hell is going on?” I grit raspily. “Who are you?”
Taunting giggles cause chills on my skin.
A flashlight shines at my face, stinging my eyes. But I’m still unable to see the person.
“I don’t get what he’s attracted to,” the female mocks. “You’re rather boring, and quite heavy, Kayla. I had to use so much strength to get you into the trunk of my car. Have you ever considered dropping a few pounds? I bet it’s difficult for Brandon.”
I almost tell her to go fuck herself but clamp my lips and hold my tongue. Anything could provoke the bitch to kill me.
Instead, I focus on the familiarity of her voice. “Who are you?”
She moves closer and points the flashlight at her face as she arches before me.
I wince, recognizing her. “You came to the bakery.”
“Mm-hm. And to the academy. Your house, a few times. The Deckers’ new house. Taught that kid a lesson for messing with my boyfriend.”
“Heath,” I murmur in shock. “You’re the driver who hit him.”
“That’s not all I am.” The sinister grin falls from her face. “Saw my boyfriend going down on you by the pond. Then I saw you fuck him in his car. How classless.”
Everything clicks.
It’s her.
The sick piece of shit that assaulted Brandon four years ago. She’s the one who ruined my paintings and trashed the bakery.
I don’t hide the fury from my voice as I snarl through clenched teeth, “Annalise.”
“Bingo. I’ve come to collect what’s mine.” She eases back a little, shining the flashlight on me again. “I think it’s interesting he told you about me. It means he still remembers our special moment. Our connection.”
“You assaulted him, you bitch,” I snap, twisting my wrists to try and break free. The rope is too tight.
“That’s what Brandon told you and his family.” She giggles. “But I remember that day well, Kayla. He enjoyed it.”
“He was thirteen,” I yell, hoping someone will hear.
“Shut up!” She gags my mouth again, pulls something from her pocket, and presses it at my throat. I instantly stiffen from the blade.
“Let’s go to the top. Brandon will be here soon. Then I’ll decide what to do with you.” She giggles again. My gosh, from her creepy laughs alone, it’s obvious she’s not all the way there in the head.
When I don’t moveright away, Annalise growls, “Now, little artist.”
She presses the knife at my neck, threatening to slice my flesh.
Slowly, I heave myself from the ground, and Annalise remains right behind me, shining the light at the steps as we climb. If I attempt anything, she’ll slit my throat.
With every nervous stride to the top of what I realize is the old tower at school, I’m terrified of what will happen if Brandon finds us, or if he doesn’t.
Either way, I have an inkling tragedy will strike tonight.
