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“For you.”
Spikes of that same fear wrap around my spine, stealing my fight from me. I’m certain my training is a five-year-old’s karate chop compared to his. Is he coming to finish the job he paid him to do? My gaze bounces throughout the room, frantically searching for anything to help me escape. Darkness on the other side of the drapes makes me shiver. He could be watching us and we’d never know.
“Don’t think about trying to escape,” he snaps, holding his gun up.
“Why are we in the middle of nowhere if you’re expecting someone to find us?”
He releases a humorless laugh. “I left breadcrumbs just in case he doesn’t already have a direct link to you. He’ll find us.” A direct link to me? What does that mean?
I bite my lip, silently questioning if I was to escape, if I could find my way through the thick freezing black forest. The cold still stings my bones. A tremble vibrates through me. Neither situation sounds promising. I hug my knees and drop my head between my arms.
Minutes turn into hours and nothing happens. Richard remains on guard and I struggle to keep my eyes open, watching him. The quiet house is warm, but a thick layer of dust covers every square inch of the place. I catch a glint of a spider web in the corner when the heat turns on, making it sway in the air.
I was hoping he would relax in a chair, maybe even fall asleep, giving me an opportunity to escape. But he’s vigilant in his post. It’s useless asking questions he won’t answer.
“Can I use the restroom?” I ask, my voice raw with emotion. He eyes me for a moment.
“I’m not taking off the cuffs.”
I hold my hands up in the air. “That’s fine. But I really need to go.”
He jerks his head to a small hallway. There’s only two doors, I assume they go to a bedroom and the bathroom. The first door is the bathroom. Stopping in the doorway, I lean back, glancing to the other door. The light from the living room illuminates a bed, but other than that, it looks empty.
“Gabriella, don’t make me have to stand over you while you pee,” Richard threatens. I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing he’d stop calling me that, but rush into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. He is not going to watch me pee.
While it wasn’t ideal, it was doable. I’m washing my hands when the lights flicker off. Everything stills in the darkness except my heart trying to escape up my throat. I turn off the running water and listen, running my wet palms down my pants.
I gasp, covering my mouth with my hands, as a loud thump hits the ground outside the door. Falling back against the wall, fear takes hold of my being, shaking it to the core. The silence on the other side of the door is painstaking torture.
Is he here? Is he waiting outside the door to kill me?
After minutes of continued silence, I blow out a breath and reach for the doorknob. Squeezing the metal handle and twisting as quietly as possible, I slowly turn it. I close my eyes for a beat, thankful it didn’t make a sound. But freeze when the door squeaks as I pull it wide. Only opened a quarter of the way, I wait for a sound. Nothing.
I release the handle. Holding my breath, I wince as I move the door open the rest of the way, this time it sways with no noise.
Peeking around the door, only darkness greets me. There’s a chill in the air without the heat and a shiver runs up my spine. I glance to the bedroom with a thought of locking myself in. But the hollow wooden door wouldn’t protect me against anything.
Why isn’t Richard making any noise?
“Richard?” I whisper from the narrow hallway.
I flinch as he replies, “I’m out here.” Not expecting to hear him, I blow out the breath I was holding, leaning my head against the doorjamb. “I need you to come out here.” I hesitate, trying to decipher if the tone of his voice has changed. “Now, Gabriella.”
Nope, he’s still the demanding asshole. I grind my teeth together and walk out into the living room. A candle flickers from a side table. It’s enough to light up half the room.
And light up the man’s body laid out on the floor. My throat constricts and a sharp pain shoots through my chest as I run to the man.
“Dad!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Aspen
Tears flood my vision, and I blink them back as I check for a pulse on his neck. “He’s not dead. At least, not yet.”
“What did you do to him?” I scream. Turning back, I tap my dad’s cheek. “Dad, wake up. Please wake up.” With a quick scan of his body, nothing seems wrong. A soft moan floats out of his mouth.
“Fucking bastard,” he rasps, rubbing the back of his head. I sit back on my knees, giving him room to sit up. When our eyes meet, his body deflates as he hangs his head low. The moment of silence between us feels like I just fell in a long narrow hole. It’s suffocating. “I’m so sorry, Aspen.”
