“Good, you’re awake.”
She’d know that smooth, slimy voice anywhere.
“Charles,” she croaked, as though she hadn’t spoken in months.
The steps stopped. “God, what is that foul smell?” He must have noticed the vomit because he clucked his tongue. “You’re quite revolting sometimes, do you know that? I mean, really, was that necessary?”
She tried to answer, but her tongue refused to cooperate. With what brainpower she could summon, she took stock of her situation. She was alone with a man who wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her if he thought he could get away with it.
Without warning, something slapped her hard enough to snap her face around. A searing burn at her temple told her the skin was split. He’d probably re-opened her old wound with the same signet ring that had injured her the first time around. Rough fingers grabbed the blindfold and tore it from her, taking several strands of hair with it. Light flooded her eyes, so bright she could scarcely stand it. She tried to squeeze her eyelids shut, but Charles dropped the blindfold and held them open.
She cursed and her voice echoed between them, giving her an idea. She opened her mouth to scream, so someone would hear her, but he clapped his big hand over her mouth. She bit him, tasting blood, and spat it out just as he backhanded her hard enough to overbalance the chair, sending her crashing to the ground.
He kicked her, but she was expecting it and curled into a ball to protect her damaged ribs. “Bitch! You don’t do that to me. Have you forgotten who’s boss, Meggie? Iownyou.”
“No, you don’t,” she panted, breathing through the pain and refusing to be cowed. “I’m not a piece of property.” She spat again, trying to get rid of the awful taste in her mouth. “Nobody can own me.”
He laughed like a crazy man. “That’s what you think? Haven’t I taught you anything?” He strode away, and while his back was turned, she took the opportunity to study their surroundings.
They were in an old wooden building that measured perhaps six meters by five. The roof was low and rotting, with several boards missing. There was nothing to clue her in as to where she was. No furniture, other than the chair she was tied to, and no personal items. She battled to quieten her breathing so she could hear noises outside. The low hiss of surf over sand suggested they were near a beach, but she couldn’t make out any other details before Charles was back, waving a sheet of paper in her face. She squinted, trying to make out the letters on the page.
“You filed a restraining order against me?” he demanded, and kicked her shin. She hissed with pain, but was strangely relieved to know what this was about. “You’re nothing without me, you backward little bitch. Did you think I’d let you ruin me like this?” He strode to the wall and slammed his fist into it. She flinched, but at least he’d chosen not to rain his fists down upon her.Yet. She held her tongue, hoping to delay the inevitable.
“If this ever got out… fuck.” He kicked her other shin, and she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. “If this shit ever got out, my chances of making partner at the firm would completely vanish.” He squatted, looming over her, his face close enough for her to make out the red streaks in the whites of his eyes, and the blackheads on the tip of his nose. “You know, I thought about moving on, Meggie. However much Glenn likes you, there are other women out there who would make him happy and not act like such an entitled slut. But you had to go and do this. I won’t let you spread your vitriolic lies. It’s time to shut your mouth, come home, and tell everyone this was a big misunderstanding. Do you hear me?”
Megan’s eyes fluttered shut, and for the length of a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still. She was hovering over a precipice, her future hanging in the balance. If she did as he asked, she’d never escape him, and everything would get exponentially worse. If she didn’t, and he’d truly lost it, he might kill her and toss her body into the ocean. Either way, she was screwed, and damned if she was going to bow to him ever again.
Her body trembled, every nerve coming alive, every muscle twitching with raw energy. It was impossible to straighten her spine when she was tied to a chair and lying on the ground, but she raised her head and looked him in the eye.
“No.”
His eyes bulged, and his mouth fell open, his breath incongruously minty. “No?”
“No,” she repeated, then she whipped her head back and smashed her forehead into his.
He stumbled, clutching his face, swearing colorfully.
“I won’t back down this time.” Strength rose from somewhere deep within her. She needed to say these words. Had needed to say them for quite some time. “You can do whatever you want to me, but as long as I’m alive, I’m never going to stop telling people what you are.”
She was weightless, her chest so light that she could have floated away if not for the binds holding her down. Finally, she’d done it. She’d become a person she could be proud of. Whatever he did to her, he couldn’t take that away. It was priceless. Eternal.
“Yes, you damn well will back down.” He let go of his head, and she could already see a lump forming, the skin turning blue. No doubt she looked worse, but she didn’t care. That bump was a sign that she was a fighter, and she could fight this. “I’ll cut your tongue out and feed it to the sharks,” he blustered. “I’ll put a fucking bullet in your brain. You won’t be telling anyone anything then, will you?”
She held his gaze, her own steady and unflinching. “And how will you explain that to Glenn?” She could mention the police, but his boss had always been his weakest point. “You’re all talk, Charles, and you may as well give up now because the only way I’m going anywhere with you is in a box.”
At that moment, Charles’s phone rang. He snatched it from his pocket and barked into it, “What do you want, Seeley?” He was silent for a moment, apparently listening to Seeley on the other end, then shook his head. “I don’t care what you think of the plan.” He strode over and kicked a wall. “Fuck you.” Then he hung up and met her eyes again. “It’s just you and me, Meggie. Good old Seeley is on his way out of town. You sure you don’t want to change your mind about that box?”
* * *
“Fuck,”Tione growled, hanging up from his conversation with Betty, who’d mobilized the town’s senior citizens. Despite searching for two hours, no one had seen her. Stalking to the intersection, he hauled in a breath and tried to calm himself. He’d walked the streets, checked out the beach, looked in the library, the cafe, the pub, the gym, anywhere he thought she might have been. Every dead end he reached only made him more certain that she’d been taken against her will. Even with the crowds of tourists, someone would have seen her if she was around.
He drew a sheet of paper from his pocket and moved to the next name. Hugh MacAllister, the town’s council representative. Tione doubted Hugh had seen or heard anything, but he was methodically working his way through a list of anyone who might be tuned in to what was happening in the bay. When Hugh had no information to share, he hung up before he could say something he regretted, and fought the urge to smash the phone on the pavement.
He wracked his brain. There had to be a better way to find her. A more efficient way. Wentworth was a guy with resources, which meant he might have enough money and connections to hide Megan somewhere out of reach of the locals.
A thought niggled at the back of his mind, taunting him. If he embraced his old skills, he could find a clue no one else had. He could findher.
But in doing so, he’d risk losing himself—and what if things ended as they had last time? What if he inadvertently made things worse for her? He couldn’t live with himself. But he didn’t think he could live with himself if he sat back and did nothing, either.