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I have to find her.
Pulling the blankets back, I see I’m half-dressed, wearing a pair of clean gray sweatpants. I cringe as I pull a black T-shirt on over my head before slipping on a pair of running shoes. I feel like I’m a teenager again, sneaking out after the curfew Ashely set for me. I climb out the bedroom window, dropping and landing in the soft grass. I take off toward the guardhouse, knowing the brothers inside can track anyone down with their technology.
If anyone can find my mystery woman, it’s them. Hope builds in my chest, even though I know how low the chances of finding her are.
All I have to go on is one kiss.
Oh… and the tracker I planted on her shoe.
Chapter Eight
Rhett
I tremble with fear as I sit in the corner of the dimly lit warehouse, my knees pulled up to my chest, the cold from the concrete seeping into my skin. My eyes feel swollen from crying, my body aches from the bruises I wear; a punishment for my attempt to fight back as Trevor pushed me into his car.
He has always been possessive and controlling, but I never in my wildest nightmares imagined he would take it this far.
He brought me here to this abandoned warehouse in the middle of the woods. I'm surrounded by steel walls. I know no one would hear any cries for help. So, I do what I always do when I’m scared. Wrap my arms tighter around myself and stay quiet.
I've been here for what is probably hours but feels like days.
He left after bringing me here, locking the door behind him. Of course, I checked after he left, rattling the knob before giving up and curling up in defeat.
I know I need to escape before he comes back.
I have to find a way out of this hellhole. The time for crying is over. I glance around the room, looking for some kind of out.
I spot a small window high up on the wall. Is there any way I can get up there? And if I can, will I fit?
And what will be on the other side? The window is so high, can I make the jump back down to the ground without getting too hurt to run? Where will I go? The questions swirl around my mind, almost making staying seem like the better choice.
Then I remember the bruises on my body, and I grit my teeth. If he finds me trying to escape? He’ll do worse. Tension tightens my muscles, knowing there's no other option. I have to try. I have no idea how soon he'll be back.
This might be my only chance to get away.
I get up from the cold, hard floor. There are some empty crates in the corner. I dig deep, searching for the inner strength I’m going to need. I push a few together, then stack them to create a makeshift ladder. My fingertips press into the dry, splintery wood as I climb up to the top crate. I reach out, my fingers just brushing against the silver handle of the window.
I stretch up on tiptoe so I can get a firm grip on the crank handle. I start to turn it to the right. It moves. Is there a chance I’ll actually pull this off? Open this window and crawl up and out? How high is the fall?
Don’t worry about that right now, Rhett. Just focus. I crank harder, faster. The window starts to inch open.
At the sound of the warehouse door opening my heart drops into the soles of my shoes.
No. No way.
I drop down to the ground, my heart thumping in my chest. Pain ricochets through my ankles as my feet slam into the concrete. My eyes turn toward the door.
He's here.
The sight of him, the sound of his voice, curdles my stomach. “Making yourself a little playground?” Trevor saunters closer, a menacing grin on his face as he closes in.
A panther, ready to pounce, to inflict pain, to destroy his victim.
Fuuuuuuuuuck.
He taunts me, playing with his meal. "You look so beautiful when you're scared.” He reaches out to stroke my hair.
I pull back with a cringe, flinching at his touch. I want to reach out and slap him. But I know from experience any resistance will only make things worse.
