CHAPTER THREE
Consciousness returned to Jilly in cruel fragments.
First came the darkness—absolute and impenetrable, as if the world itself had been erased.
Then the pain—a dull, throbbing ache where the taser had struck, electric ghosts still racing through her muscles.
The hard press of something against her back, her wrists bound tight behind her.
The rough texture of a gag stretched across her mouth.
A cloth hood over her head was drawn tightly enough around her neck for her not to be able to shake it off.
As reality assembled itself piece by terrible piece, Jilly understood that she had been taken.
She tried to move and found her ankles secured to what felt like chair legs, the plastic ties cutting into her skin.
Panic flared, wild and consuming. She fought against her bindings, but the restraints held fast.
Where was she? The hood over her head kept her from knowing. All was blackness. No sliver of light, no shadow, no shape to give form to her prison. She strained her ears, detecting only the sound of her own pulse and the shallow rush of her breath against the gag.
Memory came next, a flood of images that made her stomach clench and a muffled whimper escape into the cloth covering her mouth.
She’d been in the family room, trying hard to do a good job with her homework.
The sound of Darby barking. The shadow that had made her turn …
the figure—tall and lean—already moving toward her.
She had screamed and fought her attacker. Darby had been trying to help. But then—that crack of electricity. Pain—white-hot, all-consuming—as the taser drove its voltage through her body. Her muscles seizing, her mind a burst of static.
After that, only disjointed fragments. A cloth pressed over her face. A chemical smell, sweet and sickening. Consciousness slipping away even as she fought to hold onto it. And a voice—calm, almost gentle—whispering something she couldn’t quite remember now.
She knew it had been Leo Dillard, the man her mother had warned them all about. The man whose photograph had been passed around, whose name had become a threat hanging over their household.
A groan escaped her, muffled by the gag but audible in the silent darkness.
“Ah, there you are.” The voice emerged from somewhere to her left, startling her.
Soft, almost pleasant—if not for the context that made it terrifying.
“I was starting to worry. You’ve been unconscious longer than I’d calculated.
That’s my fault—I may have been a bit... overzealous with the chloroform.”
Jilly tried to speak, forgetting the gag. Only garbled sounds emerged.
“No need to strain yourself,” Leo said, his tone conversational, as if they were meeting for coffee rather than in whatever nightmare scenario he had constructed. “I know you have questions. But I think it’s better if I do the talking for now.”
Footsteps approached—measured, unhurried. She couldn’t see him, but she could sense his presence drawing closer. Every instinct screamed to flee, but the restraints held her immobile.
“I should acknowledge that things didn’t go quite according to plan,” he continued, his voice now directly in front of her. “I feel a bit foolish, to be honest. All my research, all my surveillance, and I somehow missed that your family had that little dog.”
Darby. Jilly’s heart clenched. What had he done to Darby?
“Don’t worry,” Leo said, as if reading her thoughts. “Your precious pet is fine. A bit traumatized, perhaps, but physically unharmed. I’m not a monster, Jilly. The dog was more of a nuisance than a threat. Though he probably did alert your housekeeper sooner than I’d intended.”
His footsteps circled around her, predatory. She flinched when his hand suddenly touched her shoulder.
“Gabriela with a gun,” he mused, a note of genuine surprise in his voice. “That was... unexpected. I’ll admit, I didn’t think your mother would arm the help. Though I suppose with her background, why wouldn’t she? The FBI agent, preparing for every contingency.”
His hand left her shoulder, and she heard him step away. Her skin crawled where he had touched her.
“She didn’t take the shot, of course,” Leo said, an undercurrent of amusement in his words. “She was afraid of hitting you instead of me. Still, it was closer than I’d have liked. I’ll need to be more thorough in my planning next time.”
Next time. The implication that this was just the beginning sent ice through Jilly’s veins.
“But do you know what the most interesting part is?” The creak of a chair suggested he had sat down somewhere in the darkness. “I think this imperfect execution might actually be better than my original plan. There’s an... elegance to the unintended consequences.”
Jilly strained against her bindings again, the plastic cutting deeper into her wrists. A muffled sound of pain escaped her.
“Be still,” Leo said, his tone hardening for the first time. “You’ll only hurt yourself, and that’s not what this is about. Not yet, anyway.”
Those last three words were followed by a long moment of silence.
“As I was saying,” he continued, his voice softening again to that unsettling conversational tone, “there’s an elegance here I hadn’t anticipated.
Your housekeeper—Gabriela—now has to live with the knowledge that she failed.
She had a gun. She had the opportunity. And still, I walked out with you.
Imagine the guilt she’s feeling right now. ”
A pause, as if inviting Jilly to contemplate this cruelty.
“Your mother trains her to use a weapon, entrusts her with the safety of her precious adopted daughter, and when the moment comes... failure. Complete, devastating failure. That’s a special kind of torment, don’t you think?
The kind that keeps you awake at night, replaying the moment over and over, thinking of all the things you could have done differently. ”
Tears welled in Jilly’s eyes, spilling hot down her cheeks.
Not for herself, but for Gabriela—steady, reliable Gabriela who had become as much family as anyone.
Who had cared for Jilly, cooked her favorite foods, listened to her problems when Mom was away on cases.
The thought of Gabriela blaming herself, was almost worse than her own predicament.
“And then there’s you,” Leo said, his voice drawing closer again.
“You’re causing your mother exquisite pain just by being here.
Right now, she’s frantic—searching, questioning, imagining the worst possible scenarios.
The famous Riley Paige, whose greatest fear has always been failing to protect those she loves. ”
The chair creaked as he stood. His footsteps circled around behind her again, and she tensed, waiting for another touch that mercifully didn’t come.
“Do you feel it?” he whispered, his voice now directly behind her, close enough that she could feel his breath stir her hair. “The shame? The guilt? Knowing that your very existence in my custody is destroying her bit by bit?”
Jilly squeezed her eyes shut, though it made no difference inside the hood. She tried to block out his words, to deny him the satisfaction of her reaction. But the tears continued to fall, and she knew he could sense her distress, her fear.
“Of course you do,” he answered his own question. “That’s what makes you so perfect for this. You understand what it means to cause pain to those who love you.”
The words struck at something raw and vulnerable inside her—memories of her life before Riley, the foster homes, her abusive father. Then the cutting she had done to herself, the running away, the worry it had caused Riley. How did he know? How much had he learned about her?
“I did my research, Jilly,” Leo said, again as if reading her thoughts. “I know about your past. You’re no stranger to causing anguish to those who care for you.”
His footsteps moved away, creating distance between them.
“But don’t worry,” he said, his voice lighter now. “This time, it’s not your fault. Not entirely, anyway. You’re merely the instrument, not the musician. Though I suspect that distinction will bring little comfort to your mother.”
Jilly tried to speak again, straining against the gag. She needed to ask him—what was he planning? What would happen to her? But only muffled noises escaped, pathetic and unintelligible.
“I’ll leave you to reflect on all this,” Leo said, his voice now farther away. “We have time, you and I. More than enough time for everything I have planned.”
Panic surged within her. No, he couldn't leave her like this—bound, gagged, unable to see.
She tried to scream through the cloth, the sound emerging as nothing more than a strained groan.
She kicked hard against the air, against the fear rising in her throat.
She imagined it would feel like this if she were buried alive.
Breathe, calm down, she told herself. Don't let him win.
His voice was calm, pleasant. “Oh, don't worry so much.” A pause, as if he were savoring her terror. “As I just said, I'm not a monster. I’d love to let you out of those bonds, to let you move around, even use the bathroom. But before that, I have to be sure you’ll behave. Not attack, not try to run away.”
She glared back at him, knowing that the gesture wasn’t visible through the hood. Was he still there? Could he still see her, hear her? Or had he already left her alone in the dark?
“Goodbye for now, Jilly,” Leo said, his voice receding into the distance. “Try to rest if you can. Later... we’ll just have to see.”
She heard his footsteps growing fainter, moving away across what sounded like a hard floor. Then came the unmistakable sound of a door opening—a brief creak of hinges followed by a soft click as it closed again.
And then silence. Complete, oppressive silence.
Jilly strained her ears, desperate for any sound that might tell her where she was or if Leo was truly gone. But there was nothing—no traffic noise, no household sounds, no voices. Just her own heartbeat and the harsh rasp of her breathing against the gag.
She was alone. Completely, utterly blind and alone.