Page 131 of Freefall

“Unlike you, I’m not afraid to fix the past. I’ve had years to think about what he did to me. I spent three of them locked up when I should have been home with my baby girl.”

He’s not making any sense, and yet…his expression hardens, his grip tightening around the gun. “I missed birthdays.” Leaves crunch under his boots as he inches closer. “Her first words.” He crouches down in front of me. “Her first fucking steps, Harper.”

“You were traveling the world,” I whisper, tears pricking my eyes. “You chose that.”

He laughs in that patronizing way only someone with the upper hand can.

“I haven’t left the country since I was ten. I was in prison when Ella was born. Want to know why?” He leans in so close that I can smell the artificial scent of his body spray, which only heightens my queasiness. “Because your deadbeat baby daddy couldn’t mind his own fucking business and framed me for shit I didn’t do.”

Nate? This is about Nate? How does he even…

“Happy accidents.” He sits back on his heels. “That’s what my mom used to call them.”

He smiles to himself. “For years, I wanted to make Nate hurt the way he hurt me.” He shrugs. “I could have sabotaged his career or messed with his sister, but none of it felt right.” His smile grows eerily wide. “Then one day, you walk into my daughter's school. Big hazel eyes. Beautiful blonde hair.” He lifts a strand from my face, twirling it around his finger. “And what do you know? You have the same damn profession as me.” His fingertips trail down my cheek, and my skin crawls. “I had no idea who you were.” He laughs under his breath. “I’ll admit…at first I just wanted to fuck you, but then…” His hand slides into my hair. Before I can react, his fist tightens, and pain explodes across my scalp, causing a cry to tear from my throat. “I saw you with Nate at back-to-school night, and everything clicked.”

If there’s one thing I've learned from the true crime documentaries Grace used to make me watch, it’s that narcissistic assholes love to hear themselves talk.

Keep him talking.

“What did he even frame you for?” I gasp.

His smile disappears. “Does it matter?” He finally releases my hair, pushing me back against the tree. “He stole years from me, but you know what? He’s a fucking coward. He had to get his friend to hold me down while he beat the shit out of me. Couldn’t even do it himself.”

I tug on the ropes again. “What does any of this have to do with me?”

“Oh, come on, Harper. You’re a smart girl. Figure it out. He took something from me.” He raises the gun. “And now…”

Ice floods my veins. My pulse is pounding so hard it drowns out the wind rustling through the trees. TJ cocks his head to the side. “Now it’s his turn.”

He lowers the gun until it’s aimed at my chest. Every instinct is telling me to look away, so I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Open them, Harper,” he whispers, his voice almost tender. “I want him to know I was the last thing you saw.”

Despite every cell in my body screaming not to, I slowly force my eyes open. He smiles, but instead of taking the safety off, he uses the barrel of the gun to brush aside the hair that’s fallen in my face. He’s playing with me. Dragging this out because he can.

“You know,” he says with a sigh. “You should be thanking me. I could’ve gone the eye-for-an-eye route and taken Daisy.” The words hit me like a punch to the gut. “You practically served her up on a silver platter the other day when your druggie brother stopped by unannounced.”

A sob catches in my throat. Images of Daisy climbing into his truck flash through my mind. How could I have trusted him?

“But I’m not a monster,” he continues. “I would never take a little girl away from her family.” He lets the hand holding the gun fall to his side. “Not like Nate did.”

“But you would leave her without a mother?” I snap.

He shrugs. “Sometimes sacrifices have to be made.”

Silence settles around us for a moment before he speaks again. “It is a shame. I was starting to like you. I bet if I held on a little longer, I could have convinced you to let me fuck you. Although… maybe it’s not too late.”

Terror slams into me as his words echo through the trees. All the fight left in my body screams at me to kick him, spit in his face, bite him. Do something. But I’m trapped.

My wrists burn every time I test the ropes. My legs are almost numb.

Think, Harper.

The picture. Nate has the picture. TJ is so fucking narcissistic he couldn’t just take me. He had to shove the proof of it in Nate’s face.

My phone is still in the truck. Maybe…

No. I turned off my location.