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“You weren’t going to be home,” Ben said, face going a little sad in the rearview. “And Jim was feeling a little, you know, guilty. So he wanted to take care of him for you.”

“That was thoughtful,” I said, and it took effort not to choke on that word. “How long have you been in town?” I asked.

“Me, just recently. Jim has been here since a little after your daddy’s funeral.”

A year?

He’d been around for almost year?

Why was this the first he’d made contact then?

“Where were you?” I asked. “Why didn’t you come to see me sooner?” I added.

God, I was going to need some serious therapy after this.

“Ben got into some trouble,” Jim supplied.

“Oh, no. What kind of trouble?”

“You know, just a misunderstanding,” Ben said.

“What kind of misunderstanding?”

“A girl saying I pushed myself on her. I would never do that. She encouraged me,” Ben insisted.

Right.

Like I’d encouraged him.

“Were you in prison?” I asked, trying to sound concerned.

“He got off. There was no evidence,” Jim said.

Then he headed right to Navesink Bank to push himself on me. With his brother.

I had a million other questions.

Like why were they both obsessed with me?

Who had jerked off in my bed?

Had they done this to other women or girls?

Had they lived?

Would I?

But there wasn’t time for more questions.

Because Ben was turning the rig into a parking lot.

I’d seen the place before, an old, abandoned pool club or something. Covered in graffiti. Condemnable.

“Where are we?” I asked, trying to sound curious, not panicked.

Secondary locations. We all knew that we were never supposed to let an attacker take us to a secondary location.

But getting out of the truck meant there was a chance to run.

Ben was big and out of shape. I could get away from him easily. Even with a weak ankle.

But Jim had kept himself in shape. And his legs were so much longer than mine.

Still, though.

There was a chance.

If it looked like I couldn’t stall them anymore, I could run. Right into traffic, if there was any. Someone would stop. Right?

If not, maybe they’d at least call the cops about a crazy woman running into traffic, being chased by a big, tall guy.

“Just a place we’ve been crashing for a few weeks on and off,” Ben supplied. “No one around. It’s peaceful here. Can’t wait to get back on the road with you, but we wanted to show you around first.”

“Is Irwin here?” I asked.

“Yeah, we’ll take you to him,” Ben assured me.

“But… but he needs a heat lamp,” I said.

“We have him set up right,” Jim said. “You can thank us for it in a minute,” he said, his hand shifting a bit, brushing over my nipple, and making the bile rise up in my throat once again.

“Do you guys have anything to eat?” I asked. “I was expecting lunch,” I said, looking to Ben.

“I got something you can put in your mouth,” Jim said, breath warm on my ear.

I’d sort of walked into that one, I’ll admit.

I thought I could maybe appeal to Ben’s better nature, get him to get me food, delay them just a little longer.

He might have given in, too.

“You can eat later. We have plans now,” Jim said, arm pulling my hips, making his dick rub against me.

“We have some chips,” Ben said.

I had no delusions about Ben being a good man at this point. Clearly, he was fucked in the head. But he wasn’t as aggressive as Jim, as violent.

Ben might still… do things. Clearly, he had a past.

But I don’t think he would beat the shit out of me in the process.

Jim, though?

Jim would.

Jim had.

“Come on. Let’s go have some fun,” Jim said, moving to stand, forcing me to do the same, then walking forward with me in front of him. He had to release my arms, and my hand went up, touching the cut at my temple, feeling the blood coat my fingers.

“Wait,” I said, before Ben could get out, before Jim could force me out.

“What?” Jim barked.

“Easy,” Ben said. “What is it, Sylvie-bear?”

“Why did you hurt me?” I asked, looking at Ben, even though I was talking to Jim.

I could see the regret flash across Ben’s face.

I’d been wondering why I hadn’t been raped or murdered, or both.

I had a feeling Ben had something to do with that. Ben with his delusions of being a good guy, of the women he wanted, wanting him back.

“He was just a little angry with you, that’s all.”

“For what? What did I do?”

“Well, he says you flirted with the man who served you your coffee,” Ben said.

“The man who… Todd? Todd’s gay,” I said.

“It was just a misunderstanding,” Ben said, trying to keep the peace. You know, before they took turns assaulting me. “He’s sorry now.”

Not sorry enough not to abduct me, not to not hold me down and force himself on me.

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