Page 108 of Torin

“Oh my God,” I gasp.

Torin’s head snaps round to look at me.

“Bennett. The man who let me stay in his cabin.”

His expression hardens. “Shit.”

“We’re coming back now, Orson. See you there,” he yells.

Torin picks up his own shirt and yanks it back on. Then he takes my hand and draws me into one final kiss. “To be continued,” he murmurs.

And then we run.

20

Torin

Icast one last look toward the spot among the trees where I almost claimed my mate.

Christ.

She wanted me to take her right there beneath the pines.

But Hannah is already striding down the trail, and I have to lengthen my pace to catch up. Whatever she was feeling a minute ago has vanished.

Bennett matters to her. That makes him matter to me.

She glances back.

“Right behind you,” I call.

By the time we reach the lodge, Hannah’s breathing hard. We hurry inside and head straight for Orson’s room.

The television is already on. Gunnar, Orson and Alexandria are gathered around it, but they move aside as soon as we enter. Hannah drops to her knees in front of the screen.

And there he is: Carson Bennett.

Gray-haired. Late fifties. Dressed in an orange prison jumpsuit, wrists shackled, being bundled into the back of a prison transport van.

MAN ACCUSED OF KIDNAPPING SHERIFF’S DAUGHTER BROUGHT TO JUSTICE, reads the banner across the bottom of the screen.

Hannah gasps.

“What the hell…”

The news anchor continues.

“Police today arrested fifty-eight-year-old Carson Bennett, who investigators allege spent months stalking and grooming one of his vulnerable young students before orchestrating her abduction.”

The footage changes.

Hayes.

My stomach drops.

He stands surrounded by reporters, camera flashes going off around him. His face is drawn, exhausted. The picture of a father who hasn’t slept in days.

“Hannah,” he says softly, looking straight into the camera. “Hannah, sweetheart… if you can hear me… if you’re watching this while you’re tied up in some dank basement somewhere… please don’t be afraid.”