Chapter Thirteen
“He didn’t blindfold us,” Teagan said.
Bryson hated the fear in her tone. He knew exactly what she was afraid of, that because the man who’d abducted them hadn’t blindfolded them, it meant he intended to kill them.
He wasn’t worried about witnesses, or that they could identify him later.
But reassuring her right now was beyond Bryson’s abilities.
He was struggling just to stay conscious.
That blow to his head had really done a number on him.
The darkness in the back of the truck was absolute, which was disorienting enough. But his aching hip and throbbing head were each trying to outdo the other in the pain department, which made his efforts to wrangle his scattered thoughts next to impossible.
“Bryson?” She moved her left hand against his right one and interlaced their fingers. “How bad does it hurt? Your head?”
He gently squeezed her fingers. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
“Maybe if you said that without pain making your voice so raspy I’d believe you.
” She clasped her right hand over their joined hands.
“I’m so sorry. None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for me involving you.
I never should have gone to Gatlinburg and interfered with your life.
That was beyond selfish. And now, we’re both going to die—”
“Hey, hey. Stop that. You didn’t do anything wrong.
I’m the professional. I should have been on guard against this type of possibility.
But what matters right now is that you don’t give up.
You hear me, Teagan Ray? Don’t you dare give up.
” He waited, but when she didn’t respond he said, “If you’re nodding or shaking that beautiful head of yours, or making some kind of rude gesture, your effort’s wasted.
I completely forgot to pack my night-vision goggles this trip. ”
A brief laugh reassured him like nothing else could have.
He needed her present, engaged, not frozen and helpless the way he’d seen her in the foyer after he’d finally managed to swim through the darkness that had threatened to drag him under.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d lain there after that awful slam of the bat against his head.
He hadn’t even seen the bat until later, when they were leaving, lying on one of the chairs.
It had shocked him that he was still alive with the amount of blood covering the bat.
Then he’d seen Mrs. Broderick.
She’d been curled in a lifeless heap on the other side of the room. He knew then that not all of the blood on the bat was his. The poor woman had been brutally attacked. Even though it didn’t feel like it, he was lucky to be alive. For now.
“Aren’t you going to say I told you so?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts.
He had to draw several deep breaths to push back the hazy fog that kept trying to drag him into unconsciousness. What had she said? Something about I told you so. “What are you talking about?”
“Avarice Lowe. I’d pegged him all along as the man who’d abducted me.
But I was wrong. It’s this man. Whoever’s driving this stupid truck.
The thing is, Lowe never seemed to fit the image of the monster in my head.
I know it sounds wonky. But I always thought I’d know my abductor if I ever saw him, by the way he was built, his profile, something.
Nothing ever clicked for me when I saw Lowe’s pictures.
And, to be honest, nothing clicked when I saw this guy today.
Not really. I mean, his voice, yes. Definitely.
And yet, even though he seems familiar, he doesn’t seem.
..right. It’s still not clicking.” He could feel her shoulders move against him as she shrugged.
“Listen to me. I’m not even making sense. ”
“Always...trust your instincts.” He swallowed hard against the bile rising in his throat.
Obviously he had a concussion. All he wanted to do was lie down and sleep.
Or throw up. Or both. He cleared his throat and tried again to follow the conversation.
“Instincts. They’re telling you something.
What did you mean when you said he seemed familiar? ”
“His face.”
“His face?”
“It just seemed...familiar. He’s the kind of guy you could pass on the street a bazillion times and you might think, okay, he’s kind of good-looking.
Clean-cut. But nothing amazing. Just a typical, white-collar kind of man, you know?
And yet, I would swear that I’ve seen him before. Not just once. Several times.”
He rubbed his left temple, desperately trying to beat back the throbbing pain and focus on what she was saying.
There was something important here, more important than her thinking she’d seen him before.
But he couldn’t seem to grasp what was bothering him about what she’d just said.
Finally he dropped his hand to his side, giving up for now.
Whatever was bothering him would come to him, eventually.
“Maybe he lives in The Woods,” he offered. “You’ve passed him on the street, on the sidewalk. Or saw him at that amenity center. Do you ever use the tennis courts, the pool?”
“The pool sometimes. But I haven’t in a long time. Not since, well, I never was a fan of a one-piece bathing suit. Too grandma for me. But I don’t think wearing a bikini is exactly a good idea now.”
He wanted to reassure her, tell her that no one would notice the X that had been cut into her skin.
But people could be cruel. Some probably would stare.
Others might ask a question, innocently thinking she’d had that X carved there on purpose, like a tattoo.
They might wonder at the symbolism and significance, without realizing they were bringing up a horrific memory that she’d rather forget.
He’d just started to doze off again when she asked, “What are we going to do?” Her voice was a low whisper, as if to keep the driver from hearing them. “Please tell me you have a plan.”
He didn’t have a clue. He tightened his hold on her hand. “We’ll figure it out. Together. Two against one. We’ve got this.”
The truck hit a bump in the road, knocking them against each other.
He scooted back against the wall, trying to keep from slamming into her.
But she had no such compulsion. She moved closer, her body plastered against his side.
But unlike earlier, there was nothing suggestive about her actions.
He could feel the slight shaking of her shoulders and realized she was silently crying.
Carefully, so he wouldn’t hit her face, he maneuvered their handcuffed hands so that he could put his arm around her, pulling their linked hands tight against her belly. She cradled her head against his neck.
He tried to pay attention to the changes in road noise, traffic sounds, the turns the truck made.
But everything was so muffled that he had no clue where they might be.
Had it been an hour? Two? He had no idea.
With his watch gone, and his mind a fog, time as he knew it didn’t exist anymore.
His every moment was measured by stabs of pain that shot through his body with every beat of his heart.
His hip had long ago gone numb. But, if anything, the pain in his head was worse than before.
He felt every shift of the truck’s wheels on the pavement, every pothole, every slide of gravel.
Wait. Gravel?
“We’re slowing down,” she whispered.
He nodded, then remembered she couldn’t see him. “Yes. We are. And we’ve turned onto a gravel road. Wherever he’s taking us, we’re close.” He carefully pulled their linked arms over her head so they were side by side again, instead of nestled against each other.
The brakes squealed as the truck lurched to a halt.
Her fingers clenched his. “Now would be a good time to share your plan.”
Right. If only he had one. His thoughts were so jumbled. “Stay alert. Be observant. As soon as that door opens, evaluate your options and react. If he’s stupid enough to stand in striking distance, we tackle him. But I don’t expect he’ll do that.”
“So we have no plan.”
He sighed. “Pretty much. But that doesn’t mean there’s no hope. All it takes is one mistake on his part, one moment when his guard is down. Then we’ll get the upper hand.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“I have to. We both have to. I’m not operating on all pistons right now, and my vision was blurry at the Brodericks’ house so I’m not expecting much better when he lets us out of here.
I need you to fill in the gaps. Pay attention when he opens that door.
Get a three-sixty view. We need to know what’s around us. Where to run if we get a chance.”
“Okay. I’ll... I’ll do my best.”
The driver’s door creaked open.
“Come on,” he urged. “Let’s scoot to the end in case we can surprise him, take him down.”
Getting to his knees was beyond his capabilities at the moment. Instead, he had to scoot across the metal floor of the truck. Thankfully, it wasn’t that large and they were soon positioned beside each other at the doors.
The sound of shoes crunching on gravel came from outside. He was heading toward the back.
Bryson could feel her shivering against him. He silently cursed the man with all the power right now, the man who’d hurt her more than most people endured in their entire lifetime.
He gritted his teeth and braced himself, hoping she was ready to dive with him to tackle the man. There was no other option since they were still handcuffed together.
The left door flew back. Bryson hadn’t planned on near total darkness and hesitated for a moment.
But Teagan was already hopping out of the truck.
He hurriedly followed and together they rushed forward, hoping to wrap arms around their attacker.
They both met empty air and stumbled against each other before falling back against the closed right door.
It was the only reason Bryson managed to remain upright.
Laughter sounded off to the left. A powerful flashlight switched on, forcing them to squint and shield their eyes against the brightness.
“Good try.” The man chuckled again. “But I assumed you’d pull a stunt like that so I stayed behind the door, out of reach.
” He lowered the light to point at the ground, directly in front of them.
Dirt and gravel mixed with pine needles and other debris.
Since the only sounds were insects buzzing close by, it was a safe bet that they were somewhere outside of town, an hour, two, maybe more from Jacksonville if his judgment on how much time had passed was accurate.
But he couldn’t be sure. Their captor may have driven in circles to disorient them and then drove to some rural part of town.
Jacksonville was the largest city in the country by landmass, so they could easily still be in Duval County but nowhere near any homes or businesses.
Teagan’s fingers curled around his. Perhaps she was beginning to realize how isolated they were, and wondering the same thing that he was—what happens next?
Without the flashlight in his eyes, he was able to make out more details now. The moon and stars provided enough light to see that they were surrounded by trees and Florida scrub, mostly small thin bushes and sharp palmettos ready to skewer anyone foolish enough to go for a walk in the woods.
The gunman stood about twenty feet away, out of reach, a dark silhouette with his arm extended, pistol gleaming in his grip. “Get moving.” He motioned with the flashlight to their right, aiming it at what was apparently their destination, a tiny cabin.
“I need my cane,” Bryson called out.
The flashlight swept back toward their captor.
He aimed it up toward his own face, a slow smile spreading across his cheeks as he pulled something out of his pocket.
“Let me guess. Because you wanted these?” He shook the two tiny keys on the end of a chain, making them click against each other.
“Handcuff keys hidden in the cane’s handle.
I knew you were awfully insistent on wanting that stupid thing.
Took me half the trip fiddling with it to figure it out. ”
He threw the keys into the trees, then leaned down and grabbed the cane, which had been lying at his feet.
“Afraid you’ll have to do without it. I’m not risking another trick in that thing that I haven’t figured out yet.
” He tossed the cane into the woods behind him.
“Now go on.” He swept the flashlight in an arc toward the cabin again.
“Teagan, stop standing there like a statue and help your boyfriend before he falls down.” He chuckled.
Bryson looked at her. She hadn’t moved since they’d tried tackling the gunman without success. Her fingers holding his were cold, stiff. Her body shook as she stared wide-eyed at the little house in the clearing. And then it dawned on him why. He’d seen it before, in crime scene photos.
The killer had brought them back in time, two years to be exact. He’d brought them to the infamous shack where he’d once held Teagan captive.