Chapter 66
Macey’s words were still ringing in my ears when I stepped into the snow.
I think he just desperately didn’t want to lose you.
The cold barely registered. I was too full of adrenaline and something dangerously close to hope.
I still loved him.
The realization felt electrifying and terrifying all at once.
I walked faster, my boots crunching through fresh snow. My car sat under a streetlamp three blocks down, alone on the darkened street.
The earlier noise from the bar had dissolved into an eerie stillness.
I was almost to my car when I heard something behind me.
I slowed and turned around, feeling the hair rise on the back of my neck. But there was nothing: just snow and the flickering of the street lamps.
I told myself I was being paranoid and started walking again.
When I was about twenty feet from my car, I heard the crunch of footsteps in the snow again. But they were closer now. And undeniably not my imagination.
I stopped, feeling my body freeze up, and not from the cold now.
“Who’s there?”
I looked around, my breathing getting more rapid.
And then he stepped out from the shadows, revealing himself in the dim light.
Dr. Pike was suddenly there, and my world stopped.
“Dr. Pike,” I said, and my voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. “What are you doing here?”
He smiled. And the gleam was positively predatory.
“Hope,” he said warmly, like we were old friends. “Small world.”
I glanced toward my car; it was not that far away. I debated turning and making a run for it. But fear and confusion had me rooted in place.
“What are you doing here?” I repeated.
“We need to talk,” he said. Not answering my question.
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“That’s unfortunate,” he replied lightly. “Because we need to.”
I took a step back, and he took a step closer. My lungs constricted.
He closed the distance in a quick flash, his hand closing around my upper arm.
I froze.
“Let go of me,” I said, instinctively trying to pull away.
His grip tightened, and the reality that he could easily overpower me made my skin crawl.
“Lower your voice,” he said quietly. “You don’t want to make a scene, do you?”
“You’re harassing me,” I said. “If you don’t let go of me, I will scream.”
He leaned slightly toward me, his breath washing over my face and causing my stomach to go queasy.
“You’re already making my life very difficult,” he murmured. “Let’s not escalate this.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Oh, I think you do.”
He started walking, his hold on my arm not budging.
“There’s a car right there,” he said calmly. “We’re going to sit inside and talk like reasonable adults.”
“I’m not getting in a car with you.” I tried again to shake his hold on me, but his grip was like iron.
His creepy smile didn’t falter.
“You can get in calmly,” he said softly, “or I can make this unpleasant. And I promise you, Hope, I will follow through.”
A cold ripple slid down my spine. I knew I was supposed to scream, to try to turn. So why wasn’t I? I felt frozen. The fear was becoming so intense that my mind wasn’t working.
He leaned closer, voice dropping to a menacing whisper.
“You can try to scream, but there’s no one out here to hear you.”
My breath started coming in and out in short gasps.
He was right.
I hated that he was right.
“I won’t drive far,” he continued. “We’re just going to talk. You owe me that much, don’t you? Considering what you’re trying to do.”
“I don’t owe you anything, Conrad.” I tried to sound firm, but I was struggling to find air.“You’re a monster.”
Numbness was spreading to every corner of my body now. My face, my hands, my chest, even my arms. It radiated through every part of me.
I was shutting down.
Something flashed in his eyes, and it was the same look that frequented my dreams right before he hurt me.
He opened the passenger door of his car.
“Get in.”
“I’m not—”
His hand tightened, and he shoved me—hard.
I stumbled forward.
“I won’t ask again,” he growled.
A nauseating feeling twisted in my gut, and I felt more powerless than I ever had in my life.
He shoved me roughly again, and I reluctantly slid into the passenger seat.