9. - – Amelia
CHAPTER NINE
-
AMELIA
I wake up coughing. My mouth is dry, and my head is pounding. Every muscle in my body aches.
I don't know where I am.
The vehicle hits a bump, and I realize I'm moving. Metal rattles beside me—my wrists have metal handcuffs around them.
Panic explodes through my chest when I remember the men carrying me out of the shelter and Christian lying on the floor. I jerk against the restraints.
My blood runs cold when I hear a familiar voice sigh.
"Amelia."
No. No. No.
I slowly lift my head to see Preston sitting across from me in a perfectly tailored suit as though none of this is unusual.
"You're safe now."
The words make me physically ill. Safe. The way he says it almost sounds believable.
"Christian?"
His eyes narrow, "Alive."
Relief nearly makes me cry, and Preston notices.
"He manipulated you, you're so naive."
"No." I've never told Preston no before.
"Amelia, he is a wanted fugitive living in the woods like the goddamn Unabomber."
The words sound ridiculous, yet part of me feels the old confusion creeping in. The same self-doubt I've always had that made me think the things Preston would say were somehow right.
"He isolated you."
"No. That's what you did to me."
"He obviously filled your head with lies. You have no idea what's reality and what isn't."
I shake my head harder. My pulse is racing now, because my body remembers this: the questions, the pressure, the slow dismantling of certainty.
I hate it, I hate him, and I hate myself for allowing it to happen for so long. Yet I can feel the old instincts returning anyway. Stay quiet, don't argue or do anything that will make him angry.
I feel so ashamed. Christian spent weeks helping me find my voice, and within minutes of seeing Preston again, I've already lost it.
Preston's expression softens with a practiced concern. "You're exhausted. Your family is worried. You belong at home with people who love you and can get you the care you need."
My throat tightens painfully. "What happens to Christian?"
Preston's jaw tightens slightly; it's the only sign of irritation. "He made poor decisions. Now he will pay for them."
Fear crashes through me.
"No! Please! I'll come back!"
His eyes narrow.
"I'll do anything you want." The words feel like swallowing broken glass. Tears burn behind my eyes. "Just leave him alone. Please."
Silence fills the vehicle, and Preston watches me like he's examining something. Then he smiles. And somehow that smile is more terrifying than his anger ever was.
"Deal."