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“App connects me to the camera.” He points to the device. “It also tracks, in case we lose sight of her.” Rising, he grabs his jacket and slips it on as he moves across the room. Beside the communal dresser, he fetches a backpack and hoists it over his shoulders. “One sec.” He jogs into the laundry room, returning quickly with a large LED flashlight and his sidearm.
As he passes the chair near the wood stove, he yanks Kirsten’s cream sweater off the back. In two strides, he stands between me and Pepper. He holds out the sweater, inches from her nose. “Pepper,such. Track Kirsten.”
And then we are out the door. Running down the stairs until we reach the bottom. Pepper whimpers softly, then trots across the lawn toward the treeline.
In less than a minute, we lose sight of the cabin. Snow and sticks and rocks crunch beneath our boots. Every fifteen to twenty feet, Pepper lets out another soft whine.
I swallow down the urge to puke the farther into the woods we search. Resist asking what those small whimpers mean as the flashlight shines on the jagged, rocky mountain wall. Fight the voices in my head that echo the Stone Bay townsfolk…“The woman… was a pretty one. Our waitress would easily pass as her sister.”
Bile climbs up my throat and I slap a hand over my mouth.
It’s not her. Kirsten is okay. She’s alive. We’ll find her in time.
I repeat the words over and over, but they won’t stick. And as Pepper slows her pace, head held higher, nose sniffing in every direction, dread sinks in.
We are losing the trail.
We are losing her.
THIRTY-ONE
SEEKER
Luck of the fucking draw.
She has been on my radar for too damn long. Months before that cunt of a wife left me high and dry, stealing our kid and leaving town. The ink on the divorce decree and child custody papers was still fucking wet when she drove south and as far from me and Stone Bay as possible.
Whore.
Is it Kirsten’s fault her flirty nature reminds me of that bitch? No.
Do I give a fuck? Also, no.
For days, I’ve patiently waited. After following her and her precious boy toys out here, I parked near another cabin, not far from the highway, then scoured this property for shelter closer to their cabin. A cave or alcove. Somewhere to make shelter and bide my time.
And that’s when I stumbled across the rickety shack in the forest. Dilapidated boards for walls and a mix of boards and branches and foliage for a roof, it looked ready to collapse any moment.
When I stepped inside, I discovered the true prize.
After some looking around, I left the property and did some shopping. With a few tweaks, the space was ready. Formy whore. For me to take what’s mine.
From the door, I trace the curves of her face with my eyes. Lick my lips as my eyes coast over hers. Stiffen in my pants as I glimpse the dried trails of blood on her cheek, near her eye, down her forehead.
Frenetic energy buzzes in my veins. Wakes up every molecule in my body. Gives me a new sense of purpose. New motivation to push forward. To fulfill the sick and twisted fantasies in my head.
My whore.
I glance down at the box near her feet—a small slip of paper taped to the top—as a devious smile slowly curves up the corners of my mouth.
“Hide and seek time, little whore.”
And before she wakes, I reach for one of two knobs high on the wall outside the room and twist left until it stops. The room goes pitch black and my dick strains against my pants.
Backing out of the room, the door closes with a heavythump.Gripping the steel wheel, I crank until metal squeals against metal as several gears turn and drive the steel bolts into the solid metal frame.
I palm my dick through my pants, tip my head back, and sigh.
“Finally, you’re mine.”
