60
DAMIAN
“If you don’t check the fucking cameras, not having a job is going to be the least of your worries,” I snarl at the man who says he’s the head of security for the hospital. He could be the head of security for the president. I don’t give a damn. He’s making my life immensely more difficult. It’s taking everything not to grab him by the throat and force him to show me footage.
Thea’s been missing for an hour. She isn’t answering her phone. I know Sutton’s condition made her upset. She needed a few minutes alone. But she wouldn’t have wandered far.
I’ve checked the cafeteria, bathrooms, and even the parking lot. No sign of her. I can’t help the panic tearing into my chest, making breathing harder and my heart race.
This is the third person I’ve talked to—each has been less helpful than the last. I’m looking down at the wiry man with mousy brown hair and pale skin. I take a breath and push out some of my anger with an exhale. “Please. She could be in danger.” I don’t know if that’s true, however, I don’t have another explanation for her disappearance.
“I’m sorry. You’ll need to file a report. There are protocols.” He doesn’t wait for me to respond, turning and walking back down the corridor he came from.
“Stay here,” I growl to Wes.
Heading in the same direction as the mousy haired man, I casually trail him, careful to keep my steps quiet. He turns a corner. I do too. His back is to me as I watch him pull his badge away from his shirt. He’s about to disappear behind that door. I’ll miss my chance.
I charge at him.
He turns just as I come up behind him, slamming his body into the door. Groaning, he rubs his now red face. I grab the badge, swiping it in front of the gray box mounted to the wall. It flashes green and I turn the knob.
Bending down, I grab the man by his shirt, lifting him easily to drag him inside.
I’m standing behind him as he scrolls through the footage. I could have figured it out myself, but that would take longer than I’d like to get some answers.
“Stop!” I see Thea leave the waiting room, phone in hand. “That’s her.” The man plays the video and I watch closely as she walks towards reception. Then, I see…Cole. They talk and then I watch them head towards the exit. What the fuck?
He switches to another screen, the hospital entrance, finds the timestamp that matches the one where we left off and hits play.
I watch intently as Cole and Thea seem to argue. Jesus, she confronted him without us. That’s my fault. She couldn’t have known why that was a bad idea. Thea’s only known Cole for a few months. I’ve known him almost his entire life. There are things she hasn’t learned about his past that make me nervous watching this.
My body tenses as I watch my brother grab her. I instinctively want to resort to violence. I want to use my fist on the screens to relieve the rage I’m feeling. Cole drags Thea offscreen. The man switches to the parking lot camera.
I watch as he picks her up. She’s fighting as hard as she can. Good girl. Then Cole pushes her against the concrete post. He pulls her forward and throws her against it, her head bouncing off of it and lolling. He does it again and her body goes limp.
I’m going to kill him. Brother or not, he’s a dead man.
Cole picks her up and tosses her into the backseat of his car. I can see her blood staining his shirt. I’m tearing out of the room and back down the corridor until I reach Wes.
“Cole. He’s snapped. Again. We have to find them.” I watch Wesley’s eyes go wide and then darken. “Let’s get back to the house. Hopefully, he was stupid enough to leave that tracker in her satchel.”
THEA
Cole loosens the ropes at my feet. My legs stretch wide once they’re free.
“Don’t try anything stupid. I’m not fully convinced that this is what you want.” He walks around behind me and I feel him tug at my wrist bindings.
“You said it yourself. I’m not the girl you thought I was.” I feel him pause and I wonder if I’ve gone too far.
My arms spring free, I could cry from the ache in my shoulders and at being liberated finally. I slowly rotate and massage them. Staying seated to not alarm Cole, I look up at him. “What now?”
He turns and walks into the kitchen, opening the fridge. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” I lie. The last thing I want to do is eat with this madman. However, I’m making progress. I need to keep up the act until I can get away.
I move to stand, the chair legs scrape across the floor and Cole turns, expecting me to run or attack. I hold up my hands. “I can help cook,” I offer. “Hopefully, there’s something I can eat here.”
Wandering into the kitchen, I open the cabinets. Canned beans, raviolis, and sweet corn. Glancing over at Cole, I see the fridge is mostly empty. I don’t miss the chance to look out the window above the sink. It’s pitch black out. It’s probably only been a few hours since he took me from the hospital.
“I brought a couple things, wasn’t expecting to stay here too long.” Cole pulls out a carton of eggs, some cheese, and butter. For someone who came here thinking he’d be walking out of this cabin alone, he’s prepared with food that I can eat.
It’s risky, but I need to see where he’s at with me.
My fingers reach out, grazing his arm. His whole body freezes. “Thank you. I love when you make eggs. Yours are my favorite.” I take my hand away, giving him space. Still, he offers a small smile.
Baby steps.
There’s an onion on the counter. Picking it up, I pull open the drawers, looking for a knife. I reach into grab the only one I find, but Cole’s hand latches onto my rubbed raw wrist, making me wince in pain.
“I’ll cut the onion, you do the eggs.” I almost had it. My hand pulls back and I offer the drawer to him as a show of faith.
I haven’t seen any other weapons on him so far, although now I know he has at least one. Turning as if I don’t have a care in the world, I grab a bowl from the shelf and start cracking eggs.” Cole keeps one eye on me the whole time. I pretend it doesn’t bother me.
We eat in silence. I finish half of my omelette, but every bite makes me want to vomit. I hoped he would put the knife in the sink. However, he tucked it into the back of his pants.
Picking up our dishes off the table, I tell him, “I’ll take care of these.” Scraping the leftovers into the trash, I casually ask, “Can you take this out? I’d hate to smell it all night.”
With the only weapon in his waistband, he seems to not mind my request. I watch out of the corner of my eye as he ties up the drawstring and steps outside. My hands frantically pull open the drawer where the knife was and I grab the only other thing that lies tucked back into the corner.
Either Cole didn’t see it or he didn’t think it would do me any good.
I slam the drawer shut as the door creaks back open and tuck it into the pocket of my shorts. Almost as soon as he walks in, he looks me up and down. Fuck. He’s caught me. But then I hear something, the thing that’s alarmed him.
Police sirens in the distance.
We both freeze. My breath sticks in my chest. I try to determine if they’re getting closer—so is he. Moments later, the wailing disappears. I keep the disappointment from my face, turning to continue washing the dishes. No one is coming for you, at least not any time soon.
I wipe my hands on my shorts after I’m finished and turn to find Cole stoking the fire. I’m not sure how the rest of this night will play out. Walking to the couches, I memorize the layout of the cabin. There’s a long hallway, likely leading to a bedroom and bathroom. To my right is the door and a window near it. On the sill sits a set of keys. My keys to freedom, eventually.
Sitting down on the couch, I stretch out, resting my feet on the low coffee table. This is it, the homestretch. I need to make him believe me, trust me enough to fall asleep. That’s when I’ll make a run for it.
I tilt my head back and close my eyes. Giving him the illusion of my trust.
Cole’s footsteps get closer, but the couch doesn’t dip. Instead, I feel the soft brush of his hand over my jaw and down my neck. “You’re always so beautiful, my love.” I open my eyes and let my head fall to the side, giving him a sweet smile.
I want to shrink away from his touch. I want to tell him to stop calling me his love. But I can’t.
“You always know what to say to make me feel special. I love that about you.” He finally sits next to me, but not before pulling the knife from his back and tossing it into the fire, ensuring I won’t be able to touch it. “Aren’t you afraid that you might need to use that on me later?” I tease.
He sighs. “I’m not too worried, Thea. If I wanted to hurt you, all I’d need is my hands.” He’s right, Cole’s already shown me that. Saying it out loud is scary, nonetheless.
My head finds his shoulder and I ease my body into his. “There’s one thing I’m still confused about. What exactly happened to Gavin? Did you kill him?”
Cole’s body tenses for a moment, although I think my nonchalant tone helps to ease it.
“Gavin’s right where he needs to be. You don’t have to worry about him.” Frustration wells in my chest. Cole wanted to be forthright about everything else. Why can’t he give me this?
Pushing away the bitterness, I murmur, “Thank you.”
“For what?” He sounds confused.
I smile and stare up at him. “You don’t know how much meeting you has changed my life. I was doing good before I met you, but there was something crucial missing, something Gavin stole from me.”
He’s looking down at me. I watch the shadows and light from the fireplace dance across his face. “What’s that?”
“Hope,” I say plainly. “Hope that love still exists, that I could heal from years of rejection and could be strong enough to bring down my walls. Hope that someone would one day protect me the way I deserve to be protected. You gave me that.” I feel his shoulders drop, the tenseness of being on edge fading away a little. The words are true. He gave me all of that—in the form of his brothers. Cole could have broken me beyond repair, but Damian, Sutton, and Wes made me strong enough to withstand him.
He’s far weaker than any of them. And too smug to realize it.
Cole falls asleep with his arms wrapped tightly around the front of me, making sure I don’t go anywhere. I, on the other hand, don’t sleep at all. Kind of hard to with a deranged murderous man pressed against my body.
I keep my eyes trained on the window near the door. The sky lightens incrementally and I can make out trees in the distance—definitely a cabin. But where? We could be in Tennessee, North or South Carolina, Alabama, or farther.
All night I’ve gone over how I’ll escape.
I tried to time how long it’d take to get out of Cole’s grip, get to the keys, unlock the door, and get into the car. Ten seconds, five seconds, five seconds, fifteen seconds. Thirty-five seconds is the lowest I could get down to. I’m not sure that’s realistic. It doesn’t matter, it’s not enough time. I’m not fast enough. And judging by my terrible under the pressure skills I showed with Rob and Matt, I know I won’t get the key into the ignition on the first try.
There’s only one way out of this cabin that guarantees I live. And that’s if Cole doesn’t. So I wait for him to wake to set the plan in motion.
He shifts against me maybe an hour later, judging from the sky. I can feel his morning erection push against my ass. I roll my eyes, although it’s what I’ve been hoping for. Shoving away my hatred, I wriggle against him.
Cole’s hand tightens on my hip. “Fuck. You know what that does to me.” I do, that’s why I’m pulling out this trick.
“Mmmm, sorry, you know how I get in the mornings,” I apologize innocently.
He skates a hand up my thigh, under my shorts. I let my body react naturally, even if he’s the last person in the world I want touching me. I pretend it’s Sutton—a sick form of defiance against Cole.
He pushes under my bodysuit, sliding a finger inside of me. Please let me be wet enough for him.
“Damn it, love. You’re dripping.” Thank you, Sutton.
I moan against his touch. “I can’t control it. Everything about you turns me on,” I whimper, driving home that he does this to me.
The feel of his fingers in me is making my stomach turn. I move his hand away and stand up. He sits, his face hardened with distrust. Sinking to my knees between his legs, I allude to exactly what I’m going to do.
His hips push forward and the suspicion melts away. Typical fucking man. Cole undoes his pants, pulling out his hard cock. I don’t waste time on the niceties. My mouth slips over him and I put on the best performance of my life as I eagerly blow him.
Cole’s eyes lock on me. I’m getting impatient. I need him to look away for a minute. Please, just one minute. As if willing it to happen, his head falls backwards and I subtly slip my hand into my pocket, gripping the one thing that will save me.
In one quick motion, I remove my mouth and hop into his lap, throwing my arms around his neck. I kiss him and rock my hips against his needy cock. He can’t think around anything other than fucking me. I know him too well.
My free hand slides through his hair and I tug it backwards.
Wesley’s words echo in my head. All that training wasn’t useless. “Eyes, groin, throat.”
Cole groans as I kiss his neck, finding the perfect spot. The hand with the weapon snakes back around to the front and I pull my lips from his skin, but keep my hips moving as a distraction.
Cocking my fist backwards, I let out a breath to steady myself, keeping my eyes on the target. With all of my force, I push my fist forward and drive the metal corkscrew wine opener through the thin flesh of his throat, twisting as I sink it in.