Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Then Earl kills the engine, plunging the interior into near-total silence aside from my ragged breathing. I feel my pulse reverberating in my fingertips, and for one wild second, I cling to hope—maybe he’ll change his mind, maybe this is just a sick prank. But that hope vanishes the moment I hear him open the driver’s door and stomp around to the back.
He yanks the double doors open, letting in a rush of cool, pine-scented air. The light outside is weak, but it still stings my eyes after the darkness in here.
“Get up,” Earl commands, climbing into the back. I’m still bound at wrists and ankles, so standing is impossible. I try to push myself upright with my elbows, but he grabs me, hauling me against his chest with surprising strength.
A cry escapes my throat. I’m half-expecting him to let me walk or limp, but instead, he slings me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing. My stomach churns, the world spinning as we exit the van. I catch a glimpse of tall pines, tangled brush, and an old structure—a cabin, by the look of its sagging porch and boarded-up windows.
He stomps up the creaking steps, the boards groaning under our combined weight. The door swings open with a shrill squeak of rusted hinges, and a musty odor assaults my senses—like damp wood and old cigarettes. He steps inside, kicking the door shut behind us with a dull thump that echoes in the enclosed space.
I blink, trying to adjust to the gloom. The cabin’s main room is small, cluttered with dusty furniture. A battered couch slumps against one wall. A rickety kitchen area occupies the far corner, its counters piled with newspapers and empty cans. There’s a flickering overhead light, its bulb so dim it barely chases away the shadows.
Earl sets me down near the corner of the room. My legs buckle, unsteady with fear and the rope pinning my ankles together. He grips my arm, lowering me with a gentleness that feels horribly out of place. But then his hand tightens, grinding bone against bone, a reminder that he’s very much in control.
“This is where you’ll stay,” he says, a note of triumph in his voice. “Cozy, right?”
My breath shudders out. “Earl,” I start, trying to keep the tremor from my voice, “you can’t possibly mean—”
He pulls a coil of rope from a nearby table—like he’s prepared this place in advance—and secures me to a thick wooden post, forcing me into a sitting position against the wall. The cord digs into my back and across my ribs. I gasp as he knots it, ignoring my weak attempts to wriggle free.
My mind races: How do I talk him down? How do I escape? “Earl,” I say again, gentler this time, forcing myself to look up at him. His eyes glint with a strange mixture of anger and longing. “I— Listen, I know you’re upset. But this isn’t the way. People are going to notice I’m missing, they’ll come looking—”
He barks a laugh. “They won’t find you, Aubree.” He paces a few steps, gesturing around the dingy cabin. “This place is mine. My grandfather left it, and no one’s used it for years. It’s miles from the nearest road. No one around. No neighbors, no passing cars.”
I swallow, dread coiling in my stomach. “You can’t keep me here forever,” I manage, my voice thin. “Somebody will figure out where I am.”
He turns sharply, his lips curling into a sneer. “Oh yeah? Like who? That pretty-boy bodyguard you had sniffing around your shop?” A wild gleam flares in his eyes, and I realize he’s practically trembling with rage at the mention of Boone. “He’s gone, isn’t he? Left you behind, gave you space. He’s not coming. And your mother? She won’t know where to look.” He lets out a mirthless chuckle, face twisting. “You’re mine now.”
Hot tears prick my eyes. I want to scream at him, lash out, but a wave of cold fear floods my chest. Reason—maybe that’s my only weapon right now. “Earl,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. “This isn’t you. Think about what you’re doing. Kidnapping is a crime—”
“A crime?” he scoffs, crossing to the small kitchen. I watch helplessly as he pulls open a cooler, retrieving a can of beer. The metal crack echoes in the silent cabin, and a faint hiss escapes as he takes a swig. “You think I care about that? It’s your fault, Aubree. You turned me down. You humiliated me. All I wanted was for you to see I could take care of you.”
I stare, heart pounding. “So you threatened me?” I whisper, voice nearly breaking. “That was your idea of love? Throwing bricks, writing those awful notes—hurting my business?”
He slams the beer can on the counter, frothy liquid sloshing over the rim. “You forced my hand,” he snaps, eyes wild. “If you’d just given me a chance—if you hadn’t run off with your boyfriend—I wouldn’t have had to prove how vulnerable you were. I wanted to make you see you needed me.”