Chapter 43
CHAPTER
FORTY-THREE
Darkness pressed in on Kate from every direction.
She sat on a cold concrete floor, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped around herself for warmth as much as comfort. The air smelled damp. Earthy. Old. Somewhere above her, something hummed faintly—pipes, maybe. Or a furnace cycling on and off.
A basement, she assumed. She couldn’t see anything without a speck of light in the space.
She didn’t know where she was. Only that it wasn’t LA. The air felt wrong for that. Too cool. Too still.
Her wrists ached. They were still bound and sore. The circulation was cut off just enough to hurt. Her ankle throbbed where she’d twisted it trying to pull away.
She squeezed her eyes shut, and memories of her abduction surged forward, sharp and unwanted.
It had started with the showing.
The man had emailed her late that afternoon, apologetic about the timing, explaining that his schedule made evenings easier. She almost said no—she usually did. Night showings were a line she tried not to cross alone.
But the house was different.
A newly renovated craftsman in a quiet neighborhood. Good lighting. Clean lines. The kind of listing that meant a solid commission. And he’d sent over his preapproval letter without being asked—legitimate, thorough, from a lender she recognized. He could afford it. He was serious.
So she’d agreed. Just this once.
When she arrived, the house was already unlocked, porch light glowing warmly against the dusk. She remembered thinking how peaceful it looked—how quiet the street was. Too quiet, in hindsight.
She hadn’t even made it past the entryway.
The man came up behind her so silently she never heard him approach. One moment she was flipping on a light, the next there was a presence at her back—too close, too sudden.
Her breath hitched.
Then the pressure.
A hand clamped over her mouth, rough and unyielding, forcing a chemical-soaked rag against her face. The smell hit first—sharp, bitter, wrong—and then the world tilted.
He didn’t hold it there long enough to knock her out completely.
Just long enough.
Long enough for her limbs to go heavy. For her thoughts to smear at the edges. For the floor to feel impossibly far away. Enough to make fighting useless, her body betraying her even as her mind screamed.
She remembered realizing—too late—that this hadn’t been a showing at all.
It had been a trap.
“Easy,” he’d murmured. “I don’t want you hurt. Not yet.”
Not yet.
Her stomach clenched.
However, throughout all that terror, she remembered the light most of all.
A bright beam that forced her to turn her head away. That trained her not to look at him. That taught her without saying a word that she wouldn’t be allowed to see him unless he wanted her to.
Just like what had happened when that man had broken into her house.
It almost seemed like . . . like he’d done this before.
Her chest tightened as she shifted, the concrete biting cold through her clothes. She didn’t know how long she’d been down here. Time felt warped, stretched thin and tangled.
When would he come back?
The thought terrified her.
However, the thought of him not coming back at all terrified her more.
She pressed her forehead against her knees and swallowed hard.
She didn’t want to die down here. Not alone. Not without anyone knowing where she was.
Miles’s face surfaced in her mind—her boyfriend’s crooked smile, the way he worried over her, the way he drove her crazy with his humming all the time.
Tears burned behind her eyes.
If she survived this—if—she would never tease him for worrying again. They’d been dating for more than a year, and he wanted to marry her. She kept putting him off, saying she wanted to focus on her career.
That was a mistake.
She clearly knew that now.
Her breathing slowed as she forced herself to listen instead of spiral. The hum above her. A drip somewhere to her left. The faintest scent of coffee lingering on the air.
And then . . .
Footsteps.
They sounded from somewhere above. The movement was measured and unhurried.
Kate’s heart slammed into her chest hard enough to hurt.
Whatever game he was playing . . . she was already trapped inside it, an unwilling pawn whose choices had been taken away.