His expression hardened to stone. “You don’t need to do that. You know me. You’ve always known me better than anyone else. Now it’s as it should’ve always been. You’ll be my wife. That’s why Liza died. I know it. Because it was always supposed to be you. I’ll keep you safe. No one will find you here. Ian can’t hurt you here, and no one else can, either.”
I might’ve known Ben once. The boy who was my best friend. But the man before me now was a stranger. I studied his face as my heart hammered against my ribs. I wasn’t even sure exactly what I was looking for. A reason why, maybe? A how? Had this sickness always been in him or had there been some sort of break?
“What happened to you?”
He stiffened. “What do you mean?”
I chose my words carefully. “I just mean… You’re so scared someone is going to hurt me, but I’ve been taking good care of myself since I’ve been back. Ian hasn’t hurt me once.” Not unless you counted scaring the hell out of me.
“He wanted to. Was planning on it. I stopped him. He’s the one who burned your barn. If it wasn’t for me, you’d probably be dead. I have to keep you here. Keep you safe. And you’ll see. We’ll be married.”
My stomach pitched as if I were on a Tilt-A-Whirl. Only there was no pleasant rush of adrenaline like an amusement ride. There was only nausea and fear. “If that’s true, then you can unlock me. I’ll stay here. I don’t want Ian to hurt me.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed on me. “You’re lying. I always know, Evie. You don’t see yet. But you will. You’ll see the truth. You’ll see that we’re meant to be.”
“Please, Ben.” I wasn’t above begging. My tears or trembling voice had always been his undoing. He’d hated the sight and sound of them. “I don’t want to be locked up. We can figure out another way.”
“This is the way it has to be.”
The man before me might have been a stranger, but I knew that tone. It was the same one he’d had as a child. The one that said his mind was made up, and he wouldn’t be moved. I sagged against the wall, needing time to come up with another plan—some other way. And I needed information.
“Where are we?”
He turned back to the stove. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that it’s home.”
Helpful. If I got a chance to run, I’d be mostly blind. But if I could get to a clearing, somewhere with sightlines, I could use the mountains as my guide. I’d have to be faster than Ben. Because I was certain of one thing. He wouldn’t have made a home here without knowing the land like the back of his hand.
I studied Ben as he moved around the kitchen, searching for any signs of injury. Hayes had thought his bullet had clipped his shooter, but I didn’t see any evidence of injury. I needed a weakness, but there wasn’t one in sight.
I let my eyes close for a moment, feeling the hopelessness of it all wash over me. But Hayes’ face flashed in my mind. And I swore I could almost feel his arms around me. I wouldn’t let this be the end for us. I refused.
My eyes opened as Ben moved the pot off the stove, placing it in the sink of sorts. He studied the liquid. “It’ll take a while to cool.”
“Did you try to take that other girl? Did you chase Hadley in your truck?”
His face reddened. “It was always only you.”
The embarrassed hue of his skin gave me my answer. He had. The why of it, I didn’t know. Would he have been content with one of them? My fingers twisted in the quilt. At least, it hadn’t been Hadley. That would’ve broken the Eastons. If there was one thing I could be grateful for in this moment, it was that.
Ben strode towards the door of the cabin. “I need to water the horses. I’ll be back.”
The horses. God, he really was stocked for a future life here. But how long would that last? Because I would fight tooth and nail if he tried to touch me. And then what? The illusion of his happily ever after would be shattered.
As the door closed, I scooted up to the edge of the bed. My fingers quickly searched under the mattress for my nail. I prodded until I felt the little piece of metal. So tiny, yet I was counting on it for…I wasn’t sure what. To save my life?
“Everything is a potential tool. A possible weapon.” I whispered my father’s words to myself. When I made a run for it, I would need every single one of his lessons.
I slid the nail into my front jeans’ pocket and waited. Listened. I heard the sound of a horse whinnying. And then soft footfalls. I braced as the door swung open, and Ben appeared.
“I need to use a bathroom.”
He studied me. “Is that the truth?”
I nodded. And that nod wasn’t a lie. I could feel my bladder pressing down.
“I’m going to unlock you. But I have this”—Ben slid a gun from a holster at the small of his back—“so don’t think of running. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”
I swallowed as the gun glinted in the late-afternoon light. “I won’t run. I promise.”