The meager food in my stomach roiled and pitched, but I swallowed the urge to lose my lunch on the floor. I needed whatever energy I had.
I pushed to a sitting position. The room around me wavered as if I were seeing it through water. I stayed still until everything righted itself.
Flipping through my memories, I tried to come up with an order of things. What had happened? I’d worked at the vet’s this morning. Built feeders with Gabe and Shiloh. I stiffened as I pictured driving to get the hay, launching it onto the four-wheeler…and then the flash of pain.
My breaths came quicker but I forced myself to slow them again. To count in and out. To make them even and normal. Passing out would only get me hurt—or worse.
“Think, Ev.” Tears sprang to my eyes as Hayes’ nickname came to my lips. I let my eyes close for the briefest moment, picturing his face in my mind in all of its many incarnations. Pissed off and angry. Free and loose in laughter. The tender way he looked at me when he told me he loved me.
Tears slipped down my cheeks and off my chin. Why hadn’t I said the damn words? Why hadn’t I told him that he was everything to me, too? That for the first time, I had a place to truly rest—in him. It was the greatest gift I’d ever been given, and I hadn’t told him.
I dug my fingers into my thighs, trying to pull myself together. I wasn’t going to give up yet. Couldn’t. I pushed to my feet and followed the chain to the wall. The bolt used to hold the metal looked more like something used in industrial construction than a mountain cabin. And there was no hope of me pulling it free alone.
I moved along the wall, peeking out one of the two windows in the space. I saw one other outbuilding, but other than that…nothing. Not a road, not another building, nothing but brush and trees.
I swallowed down the rising burn. No one would hear me if I screamed. No one would stumble upon me on their drive home.
I tried to move more, to reach the kitchen. If I could just get a knife—anything to defend myself. The chain pulled taut with a clang. I stretched my arms out as far as they would go but was still feet shy of the counter or any drawer.
I stepped back, letting the chain fall to the floor. At least when it was lax, it didn’t weigh on my ankle as badly. I tested its bounds, moving in a half-circle around the space, seeing what I could reach.
Whoever had me had obviously done the same thing. And then had moved everything with any potential to be a weapon out of that sphere. The only thing I had in my space was a rug and the bed. The frame itself was heavy, made of thick wood. But it was also securely constructed. I wouldn’t be able to break it apart. At least not without a lot of noise and pain.
I ran my hands over the posts and joints—no seams or lips I could grab hold of. Yet I kept moving my hands over the frame, not even entirely sure what I was looking for.
Hope. A little bit of that reckless hope was what I was desperate for.
I almost didn’t notice the first time my fingers ran over the slightly raised nail. But I paused, backtracking more slowly. There it was again. A single nail that hadn’t been hammered in fully. A mere millimeter of the head stuck up, but it was something.
I patted my pockets, looking for anything possibly left behind. There was no multitool, of course. No cell phone. All that was left was a penny and a dime—the remnants of my lunch change from picking up at Spoons.
I went for the dime first. Slowly and methodically, I worked it under the edge of the nail. My fingers cramped the longer I worked and sweat pooled on my brow. But, finally, I worked the penny under there, too. I had a coin on each side as I pulled.
The nail moved a quarter of an inch, but my penny went flying across the room. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. I’d made progress. I had to keep going. I tried with just the dime, but it was no use.
I tugged at it, and my fingers bled, a few tears slipping free. I grabbed at the quilt on the bed, finding a corner that was a bit thinner but still had a little padding. I gripped the nail as hard as I could through the fabric and pulled. Pain flared through my fingertips, but I didn’t stop.
I heard a faint squeak and whine as the nail moved out another inch. I readjusted my hold and drew back with everything I had in me. It came free with a force that sent me flying back into the mattress, but I held onto my treasure.
Dizziness swept over me as I straightened into a sitting position. I had the nail, and it wasn’t even bent. But before I could shift to work on the lock, the door swung open. I shifted on instinct, tucking the nail under the mattress but still within reach.
“Evie.”
The voice, so achingly familiar and painfully gentle.
“I’m so glad you’re awake.”
“B-Ben?”
His cheeks heated. “Sorry about the chains. It’s just until you’re used to it here.”
Until I was used to it… Bile crept up my throat. My childhood protector. My oldest friend and confidant. But everything had changed without me even realizing it. Only one question found its way to my lips. “Why?”
His expression gentled even further. “It’s always been you, Evie. We’re meant to be.”
43
Hayes