Lucas sounds dismissive. “I have lawyers on standby who will attest that she has been under my conservatorship for years and that Ethan was trying to manipulate her. I’m going to sue him and bleed him dry. Let’s see him bounce back from that.”
Something in my chest stirs, and I try to search for my phone only to remember that Rose took it off me when I got into the car.
My hand curls around stomach. What do I do? How do I get out of here? I struggle to my feet, trying to think past this pounding ache in my head. The air stinks of bleach and fear. The walls are bare, the floor cracked, the overhead light buzzing faintly like an angry insect. There’s no window, no way out.
But I’m not giving up.
Frantically, I scan the room, my heart hammering so hard it hurts. There has to be something—anything—I can use. I rip open drawers, shove aside medical supplies, and tear through the cabinets mounted on the wall. My fingers are trembling, slick with sweat, but I force myself to keep going.
And then, in the bottom drawer, half-hidden under a stack of paper gowns, I see it.
A scalpel.
Small. Sharp. Deadly.
I snatch it up, cradling it against my chest for a second, my lungs burning with relief and terror.
It’s not much. But it’s enough.
I slip it carefully into the waistband of my pants, under my loose blouse, the side of the blade cold against my skin. If they want to drag me to that table again, they’ll bleed for it.
I settle in a corner of the room, every nerve strung tight, counting the seconds, the minutes. I don’t know how long they’ll take, but I’m going to be ready for them.
I won’t die here. I won’t let them win.
The wall clock hanging in front of me ticks as the minutes go by.
Quarter of an hour.
Half an hour.
An hour trickles by, and I feel my energy begin to wane. Where is Ethan? Why hasn’t he found me? Does he even know I’m missing? The thought of him searching for me, frantic and desperate, both comforts and terrifies me.
The door rattles, and I go still. I hear the lock slide open, and I swallow, getting to my feet. I shove the scalpel deeper against my skin, tightening my fingers into fists to steady myself.
Lucas steps into the room. He studies me, and for a moment, silence follows.
“Do you think your precious Ethan loves you? Do you think you’re so special that he’s going to come running here to save you?”
“He’ll kill you,” I breathe. “He won’t let this go.”
Lucas’s lips curl in a smile so cruel that it makes my insides turn cold. “I hope he does love you. This way, he’ll know what it’s like to have someone you love taken from you. All this time, he toyed with my Rose. He wanted her. The two of them fucked with me. She left me for him. And now? Now, I’m going to take you from him. He’ll never see you again.”
“If you think it’s going to be so easy to make me disappear, you’re wrong,” I spit out. “I’m not a nobody anymore, Lucas. I’m not someone you can push around anymore. People know me, they admire me, and they’re going to notice me missing. Nobody is going to believe that I was under some conservatorship. You’re delusional. You and Mom both. You think I’m still at your mercy?”
His eyes fill with fury, and he grabs my arm, yanking me forward roughly out of the room, hissing, “The first thing I’m going to do once I get you to the farm is cut this tongue out. I’m going to ruin your face. Important? You? You’re worthless,Natalie. You always were. Unloved, worthless, undesirable. You are nothing. Getting a job and feeding yourself doesn’t change your value. Nobody has ever wanted you. The only reason Ethan has you spreading your legs for him is because he wants my attention, because he’s my rival.”
“Rival?” I curl my lip in disgust. “You’re the only one who thinks that. He doesn’t even consider you worthy of standing behind him. You’re so pathetic, Lucas.”
His hand comes flying to strike me, but I’m faster.
The scalpel flashes in the harsh light.
Lucas shouts in shock as the blade slices across the corner of his mouth, a thin line of blood blooming bright red against his skin.
“You bitch!” he roars, clutching his face. He lunges at me, rage distorting his bruised features.
I react without thinking, pure instinct. I drive my fist into his stomach, then slam my knee upward. He staggers back, gasping. For one breathless second, I think I can make it. I think I can win.
