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Sucking in a breath, I pinch my eyes closed as I try to keep from not only getting carsick but also because I’m not sure that I want to see what’s going to happen. I try to stay present, not let myself get lost inside of my own head.
I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do it, but I inhale a deep breath nonetheless and hold it for a moment, then exhale. Over and over, I do this in an attempt to keep my brain occupied. I’m not sure if it works at all. I want it to because the last thing I need right now is to have a panic attack. I need to stay alert and figure out a way out of this.
I refuse to be a pawn in whatever game this asshole is playing, at least not by choice.
I inhale and exhale again and again until the car comes to a stop, and my eyes pop open. I stay still, waiting for my instructions. The man opens the door, then I hear it close. I hold my breath, waiting for my door to open, and it does.
I feel his hand wrap around my ankle as he drags me out of the back seat. With a gasp, I land on the hard concrete floor. I glance around and realize that I’m in a garage. Frowning, I open my mouth to ask him where we are but snap it shut when he grabs hold of my hair and hauls me to my feet.
Trying not to whimper, I clench my jaw tightly as he drags me behind him. I try to find my footing, but it doesn’t happen because he doesn’t stop moving. He drags me through a house, and I can’t even take in the space enough to find the exits. Then he tosses me into a room.
I hope he closes the door behind me and locks me inside, but I’m not that lucky. Instead, he moves into the room with me, closing the door as he stands in front of it. I open my mouth to ask him where I am, but I don’t get the chance because he begins to speak.
“Listen, you little bitch. You’ll sit right here and not make a fucking sound. You do, and the slap to your face will be the least of your worries.”
“Where am I?” I finally ask, but my words come out sounding as terrified as I feel.
My entire body is trembling as I stare at him and wonder how in the hell I’m going to get out of this. I don’t think I am. I honestly think I’m going to die here. In this room. Alone. And it wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. In fact, it would make sense.
My parents were murdered, leaving me alone, and it would be logical that I would be taken the same way. It just seems like it’s the way it would happen. I should embrace it, but there is something inside of me that is still here and ready to fight.
That something inside of me is, without a doubt, Wells.
He is the little voice in the back of my head telling me to fight.
No way would he just lie down and take anything, and neither would the woman who he chose to marry. I still can’t believe I’m going to marry this man who I’ve only known a few weeks, this man who stalked me, still for reasons unknown.
This man who probably knows a lot more than he should about me.
This man I’ve completely and totally fallen for.
“It doesn’t matter where the fuck you are,” the man sneers.
I almost forgot about him. I was lost inside of my own head. Which can be a dangerous place to be, not just because I’m trying to stay on the defense and forget about that but also because I could get lost and have a hard time finding my way back.
“Who are you?”
“Ray Randolph,” he states proudly as if I’m supposed to know what that means. I don’t. I stare at him, blinking, unsure of what I should say. I have no idea who this man is, and he clearly thinks I should.
His lips curve up into a grin, and I realize he is going to tell me something that he knows will bother or upset me. Pressing my lips together, I roll them a few times and try to keep my face expressionless, but I’m sure I completely fail, especially judging by the excited expression he’s wearing.
“My daughter was Shiloh Randolph, and she was dating Coleman. She’s gone now, though I don’t have a body to bury. But your boyfriend killed her, which means you’re going to suffer for that. You’re going to pay for it. A life for a life.”
A life for a life.
Wells has that tattooed on his chest.
That means something, not just to him but to this man, too. That means something huge. I’m too scared to ask, though. Instead, I continue to stare at him. He’s telling me that Wells killed his daughter.
Killed his daughter.
“You get comfortable. I’ll be back later.”
Without another word, he turns, opens the door, and slips out, slamming it behind him. I hear the lock click into place. The only positive thing I can think about in this whole situation is that I’m alone.
It’s also dangerous because being alone means that I’ll likely freak myself out, but in this case, I think it’s the best alternative. I don’t know what Ray Randolph has planned for me, but I do know that it is nothing good at all.
Lying down on my side, I bring my knees up to my chest and face the door. The room is completely empty. I’m alone. And I’m possibly in love with a murderer who definitely stalked me.
