8. Willa
CHAPTER 8
WILLA
H ours go by. Every minute is excruciating. My back burns from holding its hunched position. My fingers are numb from gripping the glass, which sweat has made slippery, but I don’t dare let go, not even to dry my hand. I’m so close. There are only a few miniscule strands of rope left to cut. I lift my shoulder and wipe my blurry eyes with my sleeve. Just a little more.
Sun begins to stream through the window. Daylight. Fear fills me.
Another piece gone. Sawing takes so much time. Desperate, I slip the final two strands under the tip of the sharp glass and pull upward as hard as I can. Blood seeps from my palm, mixing with the sweat, but the bits of rope are no match for my determination and, finally, snap under the pressure.
Not willing to lose the glass, I toss it in my lap and yank against the strands. Loose now, the remnants release their hold. I slide my arm out and immediately move to untying the knots holding my other arm to the chair.
Adrenaline and fear rise as the sun moves higher in the sky. I yank my arm out and stand. The world spins around me, but I manage to lift my foot to the chair and remove the shard of glass stuck in it. Thankfully, the cut doesn’t look too deep. Despite the blood, I slip into my shoes and socks, stumble to the door, and drag it open.
Trees. Everywhere. As far as I can see. In disbelief, I step into the clearing and turn in a circle. Nothing. It’s only me and the brown shack in the middle of the fucking woods. I walk around the side of the little wooden structure and spot the first sign of hope. Two long ruts carved into a path. A driveway that looks like it goes on forever, but it must lead to a road.
Roads mean cars and people. Right? For a brief second, I think about going back to get a drink of water from the faucet, but fear and the passage of time prevent me from returning. Biting my lip, I move to the edge of the driveway, nearest to the trees, and put one foot in front of the other. Glad I’m wearing my tennis shoes.
An hour goes by and no road. I cross my arms to ward off the chill in the air. It will be much colder once the sun sets. An edge of despair creeps up on me. There seems to be no end in sight. Humming a cheery song, I trudge on, unwilling to give up, hoping my body doesn’t give out. I remind myself that a person can go days without food. Water is my main issue. A body begins to shut down without that vital substance. It was stupid to let fear stop me from getting a drink.
Silently berating myself, the new sound doesn’t register at first. It’s not until I notice a flash of black in the distance that I see the truck and hear the slight roar of its massive engine. It’s coming this way. Terror fills me. My heart slams in my chest. Turning, I run into the woods and crouch behind a tree. Dirt spews up, choking me, as it flies by, but it doesn’t stop.
I slide around the tree to peek at it. It’s them. When they’re out of sight, I push my trembling legs to move quickly. Half shuffling, half jogging, I fix my gaze forward while keeping my ears peeled for the sound of them returning. A sob escapes.
My head swivels to the forest on my left, but there is nothing to guide me, and I’m too afraid to move away from my only clear point of direction. The driveway. Rumbling fills the air, making the choice for me. They’re coming back this way.
I turn to the left. The engine drops to a low throttle. I look over my shoulder and see it crawling along, looking for me. I slow, moving from tree to tree, trying to stay hidden. The engine cuts off. I hear a shout. Without thinking, I shove away from the protection at my back and push myself to move.
Seconds later, a hard body slams into me, taking me to the ground, and I scream. We slide along the floor of the forest. Trent’s expensive cologne wraps around me, and I’m taken back to the day we met. Déjà vu. Except this time, our collision wasn’t an accident.
Instead of getting off me, he sits up and pins me to the hard, dirty ground. Flashing a victorious smile, he shouts, “Got you!” Then laughs. “Sorry for leaving you so long. Had to make sure dear old dad went back to DC first.”
It makes me want to puke. Glaring up at him, I swallow the knot of fear in my throat and spit in his handsome face. “What the hell are you doing? I don’t care if this is a stupid football prank or whatever. It’s gone too far. Take me home.”
I know it’s not a prank, but I’m hoping he thinks I’m too dumb to realize it.
A long, tanned finger smooths the hair out of my eyes and tucks it behind my ear. “Good try, but you forget, I know how smart you are.” Pounding feet brings his head around, and he eyes the guy behind him. “About time. Get some rope from the truck.”
Throat tight with emotion, I burst into tears at the thought of being tied up again. “Why are you doing this to me? I’ve never done anything to you. I need to go home. My uncle will be looking for me.” Even though Lionel wasn’t my uncle, it had always been easier to describe him that way. He’s so much more though.
He shakes his head. “I left a note in your apartment telling him you were too scared to stick around and would text him in a few days.”
“He won’t believe you,” I tell him, conviction ringing in my voice. Lionel would never believe it.
He lifts a broad shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. He won’t find you.” His voice is pleasantly mild, but his eyes burn with a fierceness I’ve only seen once—when he spoke about his mother.
“Why?” I whisper. “Just tell me why you’re doing this to me. I deserve to know.”
“Because your kind killed my mother,” he snarls, fury riding hard on his face.
Is he crazy? “My kind?” What the hell is he talking about?
He cocks back his fist, and I flinch as it comes toward me, but instead of hitting me, it slams into the dirt beside my head. “Don’t lie to me. What is your power? We’ve been watching you, but I haven’t been able to figure it out. Tell me.”
My brow wrinkles. Power? I shake my head vigorously. Has he lost his mind? “Listen. I don’t have any power. I promise. If I did, I’d have used it to escape. Instead, I had to break a glass and saw my way out of those damn ropes. Think about it.” That’s it. Find the logic. Convince him.
A mirthless laugh fills the air. “You do. Maybe you don’t know it yet, but you do. I knew it the first moment I saw that mark on your shoulder. Then I looked up your parents in my dad’s files. Your father had the power to control air,” he informs me, his voice ringing with smug superiority and a hell of a lot of anger. “We know this genetic anomaly is hereditary, passed through the blood. We used to think only Rh-negative people had powers, but we’re discovering they have the ability to pass it on to their children.”
My mind reels with the information he just dumped on me, but one thought keeps reverberating… he’s truly crazy. Lost his mind. I hear the sound of footsteps coming closer. Does he believe this crap he’s spouting, or is he just following orders?
I shake my head. “You’re wrong.” Tears trickle down my face. “If I had power, I would have used it hours ago to get free. Are you telling me I could have snapped my fingers and poof! The ropes would have magically disappeared?” The laugh that comes out is tinged with hysteria, but I don’t care.
His brows crash together. “It’s not magic. You have psychic powers.”
I snort. “Oooh, psychic. Why didn’t you say so? Let me close my eyes and see if I can use my mind to make you disappear.” I shut my eyes and wish with all my heart that I’ll open them and find out this is all a nightmare. I open them. “Damn. You’re still here.”
He gets off me, and a familiar-looking beefy arm jerks me to my feet.
I smirk at the white bandage on his face. “How’s the nose, Tommy? Looks broken to me.”
In retaliation, he slaps the back of my head.
Instant pain. Tears swim in my eyes, but I blink them away. Fuck him.
They tie the rope around my hands and feet and carry me to the truck. They’re holding me so tightly, I can’t even wiggle.
“Where are you taking me?” I force out, terror clogging my throat. Oh God!
“For a swim,” Trent replies sarcastically. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a blindfold and ties it across my eyes. Blackness descends.
“How did your mother die?” The words tumble out of my mouth. I need to know why this is happening. “Please. I thought she committed suicide.”
They lift me, then the cool uneven metal beneath my tied hands tells me I’m in the back of the truck. Someone jumps in beside me. An arm wraps around my shoulders and hauls me backward. The scent of cedar and citrus tells me it’s Trent.
He clears his throat. “She stopped to help a woman sitting on the side of the road who was crying and rocking a baby in her arms. My mother thought there was something wrong with the baby, so she made her driver stop. The bodyguard got out and approached the woman. She incinerated him.”
Appalled, I inhale sharply. “What do you mean, she incinerated him? She set him on fire?”
His low tone fills with hatred. “The woman was a pyrokinetic. My mother and her driver tried to get away, but the vehicle burst into flames with them in it. Then, she turned her powers on herself and the baby. Her inability to control her power cost them their lives.”
I shake my head vigorously, unable to believe what he just told me but also because I want him to believe me. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, but I told you. I don’t have any powers. I swear. On my life.” I start crying. “Please let me go. Please.”
Cruel fingers reach out and grip my chin, turning my head in his direction. “When my father told me what happened, I made a promise to myself and my mother. I would do everything in my power to rid the world of each and every one of you. Nobody should suffer like she did or live without their mother like me.”
I reach out and grab his shirt in my fist, desperate to get his attention. “I don’t care what your reports say. I’ve never had powers. Don’t you think I would have used it to save my mother and father? Instead, they were trapped in the car, and I had to watch them burn, hear their screams, while I lay useless in a pool of water.” My voice is raw, and I feel him freeze. “I would have given anything to save them. To have them here with me today.” I hiccup as the terror of the memory clogs my throat.
His hand grabs mine, and for a long minute, he holds it. “I’m glad you know how I feel.”
Hope flares inside me.
He places my hand on my leg and pats it a few times. “It won’t save you, but maybe we’ll go a little easier on you.”
His words are a death knell reverberating in my head. Nothing I say will change his mind. Hope dies. The truck stops. My adrenaline shoots higher, but so does my despair. Tied up, blind, and trapped in the middle of the woods. My chances of escape were slim earlier but are now zero.
The bed dips as Trent jumps out of the truck. Large hands slide around my ankles, and yank me out of the truck, letting me fall onto the hard-packed dirt.
Pain radiates from my tailbone to my head, and I rock side to side in agony, but there’s little time to contemplate it before I’m dragged a few more yards.
“Rough her up. I want to remove the ropes before we toss her over the side,” Trent orders.
A dark chuckle is all I hear before the shit-kicking boot drives into my stomach and side. Pain explodes, but no matter which way I roll, I can’t escape it. I bring my arms up to protect my head and carefully work the blindfold down until I can see.
Smelling of sweat and anticipation, he bends down and laughs. Another kick slams into my side, and I swear I hear a faint crack. Excruciating pain follows.
Tommy is my sole attacker. Guess his friend couldn’t make it today. With a glee-filled diabolical smile, he jerks me up from the ground, cocks his meaty fist back, and smashes it into my face.
Howling from the impact of his fist, I drop to my knees and bring my hands up to catch the blood pouring from my broken nose. I know I should run, but where? Through the pain and tears, I flick a glance through my lashes and find trees almost everywhere. A dark pit lies in front of me, slightly beyond this clearing. There’s a muffled roar to my right, but the ringing in my ears makes it impossible to determine what it is.
Is this my final resting spot? I stare at the brown, hard-packed dirt under my knees. Could be worse, I guess.
Someone steps closer, and I cower, afraid of what’s coming next. The blood slows to a trickle, and the area around my nose goes numb.
Unfortunately, that asshole, Tommy, isn’t done. He clocks me on the side of the head, hard enough to send my body crashing to the ground. I bring my hands back up to protect my head, accepting his fresh rain of blows without fighting back. Bones snap. Ribs crack. He continues his assault. His harsh breaths fill the air after each hit.
Time slips. Fog creeps into my brain. The bright sun dims, and twilight appears. The crisp air reminds me that it’s fall. It even smells like it, with the air full of the musty, earthy scent of dried leaves and pine. My mind drifts. Maybe it’s time to see my mother and father. To be together again. I bring up our final day and my favorite memory.
The crash happened the night of my sixteenth birthday. Too old for a party, I asked for the cute designer purse I’d been coveting for a while. Instead, my parents surprised me by taking me out of school for an entire day of shopping in New York City. We laughed, tried on clothes, and of course, they gave me the purse. It was an utterly perfect day, filled with sunshine and laughter. Strolling around the city with them, I felt older, more sophisticated, which was only emphasized by the fancy dinner we had that night. It was the most magical of birthdays. I smile.
Strong arms lift me up and hold me tightly.
The warmth feels so good against my cold body, but I resist the urge to curl into it. I peel open a swollen eye to peer at my captor. Anger, burning deep inside, erupts when I see Trent’s handsome face.
“I…” I can barely speak through the pain, but his satisfaction at my faltering forces me to continue. “I hope you… see my face… close your eyes. Rot in… hell, Trent Hightower.”
A sad smile slips across his face. “I’m already there, Willa Taylor.” With those final words, he walks across the clearing toward the dark pit.
My sluggish heart picks up speed while frustrated tears leak from the corner of my eyes. I’m not ready to die. A scream builds in my throat, along with a desperate plea, but I can’t get it out before he tosses me off the cliff.