CHAPTER 29 #2
He swings open the door and we run into the dry scrublands surrounding the cabin. Small patches of dying prairie dot the steppes as the wind rips through the canyon. My hair violently whips around my face as the billowing smoke rises in the sky.
“I don’t understand,” Hudson mumbles, staring at the blazing cabin. “I’ve always been so careful. What happened?”
He turns to me, expecting a submissive, scared captive, but I’ve let my mask drop.
“You.” He stares at me, putting together the pieces in his mind. “How did you know to put on your nightgown?”
“How do you think?” I spit, my rage amplified by my swirling hair. I feel powerful now that we are on level terms.
“How did you know?!” He steps toward me aggressively. I hold my ground, refusing to cower.
“Oh Hudson,” I mock, portraying an overly sweet voice. “Let me just stand over here by the fireplace while I undress. Then you can take me into the bedroom and rape me to your heart’s content!” My gaze darkens as I drop the persona. “It wasn’t hard.”
“Rape?” A pained look spreads across his face. “Charlotte, I love you, and you love me.”
“This isn’t love.” I clench my hands into fists at my side as he advances closer. “Where is Astrid?”
“I told you,” he growls, anger returning to his features. “She’s with Derek.”
“Stop lying to me!” I leap across the sand, tackling him to the ground. Right hook. Left uppercut. Right hook. “Where is she?!”
Hudson shoves me off and I jump to my feet. We circle each other, deciding our next moves. Hudson speaks first.
“Charlotte, stop this right now.” His voice is edged with warning. He wipes the blood from his lip. “Nothing has happened that can’t be forgiven. Kneel with your hands behind your head and this doesn’t have to go any further.”
“You’re never touching me again,” I seethe.
“We’ll see.”
And with that, he pounces. His arm wraps around my waist, but he can’t hold onto the slippery fabric of my nightgown. I jerk my knee up, catching his chin. He grapples with me and we roll through the dust, each vying for dominance over the other.
You won’t always be fighting boys. Derek’s lessons flash through my mind. You’ll have to fight men.
The hours spent in the ring, getting my ass beat. The bruised jaws, bleeding noses, split lips. It was all for this moment. To prove that I could defend myself. I won’t be weak. I won’t be vulnerable. I won’t.
They’ll fight dirty. Hudson wins the grapple, pinning my wrists together.
They’ll be bigger than you. I buck my hips, trying to shake him off. He doesn’t falter.
Stronger than you. I struggle in his grip. This isn’t how this ends. He doesn’t get to win this.
“Charlotte, stop fighting!” Hudson growls, inches away from my face. He’s been pulling his punches this whole time, trying not to hurt me. This riles me further. How dare he? How fucking dare he?!
You need to be smarter than them. I know what he wants. I can give it to him.
I crash my lips into his, craning my neck to reach. He falters, caught off guard. His grip loosens, not much, but just enough for me to rip a hand free. I lash out, striking him in his throat. He chokes, gasping for air. I feel blindly to the side, searching for anything I can use.
My hand finds something smooth, something heavy. I grab it, slamming it into his head. I hear a crack as the rock connects with his skull, and Hudson buckles, crumpling to the ground. I don’t let up. I kneel over him, raining down blow after blow after blow.
His eyes stare lifelessly into the distance. He’s dead. I killed him.
I clutch the rock to my chest as I scream, releasing my anger and fear and desolation. I killed him. He won’t be showing up four months from now, taunting me with his trademark smirk. He won’t lurk in the shadows, intruding on my private moments with the god-awful click of the camera shutters.
I killed Jack.
I killed Hudson.
And if anyone ever dares to touch me again, I’ll kill them too.
Wait, shit!
Astrid!
I shake his shoulders, hoping there’s a glimmer of life left within him, but it’s too late. He’s gone. Dead. Lifeless. The knowledge of Astrid’s location died with him.
His desk. I need to search his desk. I stumble to my feet, but the fire has spread. The cabin is now entirely engulfed in flames. There’s no way in. Anything valuable would be long gone by now. Fuck! Shit! Goddamn it! I throw the rock, finding no pleasure as a plane of glass shatters.
Think, Sparks. Think!
His truck is parked off to the side. It’s unlocked, keys in the cupholder.
Nothing in the glovebox. Nothing in the backseat.
I unlatch the tailgate and roll up the tarp to find two duffels in the bed.
Here we go. I unzip one to find standard survival gear.
This would have come in handy a few weeks ago.
Knives with sheaths, rations, compass, other shit.
I grab two knives and set them to the side, zipping the rest back up.
The other duffel has two sets of clothes in it.
One set is clearly too big for me, I disregard those items. In my size, I find a pair of leggings, a black sports bra, a leather jacket, and combat boots.
It will have to do. I slide off the blood-soaked nightgown and toss it to the ground.
Once dressed, I clip both of the knives to my legs, one on each thigh.
Then I remember. The last thing Hudson did before evacuating the cabin was grab a phone.
I steal it from his corpse, kicking him in the ribs for good measure.
Asshole. The screen lights up and I navigate to the maps app.
The GPS puts me somewhere in western North Dakota.
How the fuck did I get to North Dakota? I remember how hungry I was when I woke up in that shipping crate.
How long was I out? It doesn’t matter now.
Focus. There are no saved locations on the map. No history tracking. I don’t know where he’s been. No call history, no text messages, no memos in the notes app. My chest tightens as I face each dead end. I need to find Astrid. I have to.
The last app on the phone is the contacts.
Only two names are listed, “The Target” and “The Director.” I click on the Target and find my phone number listed in black and white.
I delete the contact with a shudder. I select the Director.
Same as mine, just a phone number. No other details or context.
It’s my only lead. Deep breath. Dial. The phone rings once, twice, three times. Then someone answers.
“You have some nerve calling me, Hudson.” A female voice comes through the line. Crisp, controlled, venomous. She sounds familiar. Is this that bitch from the gala? “Where is the asset?”
“I’m sorry, Hudson can’t come to the phone right now,” I speak slowly, forming a plan as I go. “Can I take a message?”
“Charlotte?” The lady laughs. “What a lovely surprise!”
“Fuck off,” I snap. “Where’s Astrid?”
“Who? Astrid?” She pauses, playing with me. “Oh, Astrid! I saw her just yesterday. Her voice is so precious when she screams. ‘Charlotte, where are you?’ ‘Help me, Charlotte!’ Highlight of my day.”
“You touch her and I’ll kill you.” I grip the phone tightly, allowing my malice to seep through the microphone. “Tell me where she is.”
“Interested in a reunion?” The phone pings as I receive a text. It’s an address. “We’re happy to pick you up.”
“Don’t bother. I’m on my way.”
I disconnect the call and type the address into the maps. It’s about forty-five minutes away. Raindrops splat onto the truck windshield as I shift into gear.
I’m coming, baby. Hold on.