Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“You’re not getting out of there until you see sense.”
Uncle Jeffrey’s voice. Not my cousins.
My mind reels, and I struggle to ground myself in the present. I’m not that frightened child anymore.
But I’m as helplessly trapped as she was when they locked me in here and left me to scream in the dark for hours.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I manage to wheeze. “You can’t keep me in here.”
All I can see of my uncle is a pair of icy blue eyes and the tops of his rage-flushed cheekbones.
“Oh yes, I can. You’re going to stay in there and think about what you’ve done to this family.”
I shake my head to clear away the ghostly hands that clutch at my face, trying to draw me back into darkness and mind-numbing panic.
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” I hiss. “If you’re facing the consequences of your sick actions, that’s on you.”
His eyes flash. “You’re going to recant the vile story you told that reporter,” he insists. “Then I’ll consider letting you out of there when you learn to be better behaved.”
My fists slam into the door in a pulse of pure rage, and he reels back a step.
“Did Mama put you up to this?” I demand. “Let me out, or you will all regret it.”
“Your mama and daddy left this morning for the ranch in Montana. They’re not coming back unless you sort out the mess you made. I’m going to make sure you fall in line.”
I bare my teeth at him in primal defiance. “You will never touch me again. I’ll kill you before I let you hurt me.”
He scoffs. “I’m not going to lay a hand on you. I never hurt you, Abby.”
My fists boom against the door, and I launch myself at him as though I can tear him apart.
“You violated me!” I shriek. “I was a child. Your own niece. You’re a sick piece of shit, Uncle Jeffrey, and now everyone knows it. You will never harm another child. I won’t let you.”
“Damn you!” he thunders. “You’re trying to ruin me, but I will not permit it. You’ll take back what you said.”
“Never,” I seethe. “You should be the one rotting in a cell. If I ever manage to get the evidence I need to put you away for the rest of your life, I will. If you think you’re suffering now, just wait until I make you pay for kidnapping me and locking me up in here.”
“You’ll sit in the dark and think about what you’ve done,” he says with twisted, paternal disapproval. “I’ll come back when you’re more agreeable.”
The grate slams closed, cutting off my only source of light. Darkness presses in on me with crushing weight.
I scream out my rage and terror, punching the door again and again.
But all I manage is to split my knuckles against the unyielding metal. The stinging pain doesn’t stop me. I’m reduced to my most feral self, ruled by survival instincts. I can’t stop fighting. I can’t stop trying to escape.
The icy fingers of my ghostly cellmate clutch at my hair, scoring frigid lines down the back of my neck. I shudder and scream as I throw all of my weight against the door to no avail.
“Abigail!” Dane’s voice is muffled by the heavy door, but I instantly recognize my dark god.
“I’m in here!”
He came for me. He promised he always would.
I’m grateful for the tracker he put in me all those weeks ago. No one will ever be able to take me from him.
“I found a key,” he calls back. “I’m getting you out.”
The aged key scrapes in the lock, and then fresh oxygen floods the cell along with blessed light. I throw myself into Dane’s waiting arms. He wraps me up in a fierce embrace, cradling the back of my head to press my face close to his chest. He’s breathing hard, as though he ran all the way from Charleston to get to me.
“I’ve got you,” he promises. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”
“I want to leave,” I say in a rush, grabbing his hand so that I can drag him toward the exit. “I can’t stand to be in this house for another minute.”
He doesn’t budge. All of his powerful muscles practically vibrate with some unseen strain.
“Who put you in there?” he growls.
“Uncle Jeffrey. He wanted to convince me to tell the press that I made everything up.”
“Did he touch you?” The question is barely intelligible.
“No. He just tried to scare me.” I can’t suppress a shudder. “He knows I don’t like it down here.”
It’s a massive understatement, but I don’t want to waste time going over that particular trauma inflicted by my sadistic older cousins. I just want to go home with Dane.
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care.” I tug on Dane’s hand. “Please. I need to leave.”