My eyes closed of their own volition, and my head pounded painfully. The sound of River’s footsteps receding filled me with relief, but then dread replaced it as a strange grinding noise began. A mechanical creaking and scraping sound filled the area as I tried, and failed, to open my eyes. Was he going to throw me into a chipper or something? No, that was the sound of a garage door opening.
Oh, thank God.
I knew that trying to escape was my only hope. I realized that giving in to the drug was the worst thing I could do. But my muscles were mush. I truly, truly wanted to scream. I really, really wanted to fight.
Unfortunately, I did neither and instead slipped into murky nothingness.
****
When I came to, it was pitch-black. I had a splitting headache, and my mouth tasted like a dirty gym sock. Groaning, I tried to make sense of where I was and what was happening. The memory of River drugging me slammed into me, and with a grunt, I satup. Panic roared through me as I realized my ankle was chained to the frame of whatever I was lying on. My hands weren’t tied, nor was I gagged. I found that odd but was grateful for both.
The drug River had given me was still in my system but fading. I felt jittery as I searched the gloominess for something that might tell me where I was. I was no longer in a garage. At least, it didn’t smell like a garage. River had successfully moved me to another location. He might be off his rocker, but he’d obviously planned this out thoroughly.
My only hope of rescue was Royce. When I didn’t return home, Royce would come looking for me. River knew that too, which was why he’d gotten me out of his house. When Royce showed up on his doorstep, would River actually be able to convince Royce he didn’t know where I was? River was a devious snake, but Royce was intuitive. I had to believe he’d see through River’s act.
Since he hadn’t gagged me, he’d no doubt put me somewhere no one would hear me yelling for help. He’d said he wanted answers. My concern was the truth wouldn’t satisfy him. He didn’t seem interested in hearing what had really happened. Did that mean he’d torture me until I told him what he wanted to hear?
I didn’t have my coat, yet I wasn’t shivering. At first, I’d thought perhaps I was in some type of shed, but it was too warm for an outside building. While I couldn’t see much in the gloom, I smelled the unmistakable scent of central heating being turned on after a period of disuse. So perhaps I was inside a house?
I felt around with my hands, trying to discern what I was sitting on. I seemed to be on a mattress held up by a metal frame. There was no headboard and only one thin blanket and flat pillow. The bedding smelled like lavender and sandalwood. What a considerate kidnapper River was to provide me with clean bed linens.
Asshole.
I was angry with myself for falling for River’s little performance. I should have known the second he offered me a drink, he was up to something. But I’d been trying my best to get along. I’d felt euphoric at the thought of never having to really deal with him again. That had made me too trusting. Unobservant. Thinking back now over how he’d behaved, there’d been an uneasy energy buzzing just beneath the surface. I’d assumed he was simply on edge, as I’d been. But apparently, he’d been on edge for a very different reason: he’d been planning my kidnapping.
Lucas hadn’t been there tonight, but had he known what River was planning? I found that impossible to believe. Lucas was different from River. Lucas loved River, that was obvious, but he wasn’t my enemy. I couldn’t tell if River loved Lucas back. River seemed too in love with himself to love another person. He was possessive of Lucas though. However, that might just be about him controlling Lucas.
I moved my foot and kicked something over. I felt around and found two bottles of water next to the bed. I grabbed one, twisting off the cap. It made a satisfying snapping noise, which reassured me the water hadn’t been tampered with. I drank half of the bottle, hoping to flush my system of drugs, but then stopped. I didn’t want to have to use the restroom, since I wasn’t surethere was one. Was that another layer of humiliation River wanted to lay on me? Pissing myself?
Yeah. Definitely an asshole.
I lay down on the bed, trying to control the overwhelming panic trying to take hold of me. I needed to think. I needed to be logical. Freaking out wasn’t going to help anything. I blew out two slow, calming breaths and focused on Royce. He knew where I’d gone tonight. When I didn’t come home, he’d go check things out at River’s house. I knew that without a doubt.
Of course, River would have some story in place. He might even have a fake alibi. He could easily play dumb and tell Royce I’d left his house on good terms. I frowned, remembering I’d never signed the lease. Would he say I’d never even shown up? That would be risky because it was possible one of his neighbors would have seen my car.
My car.
My car would still be at his house. Surely that would prove that I’d actually arrived at River’s home. I patted my pockets, knowing I wouldn’t find my phone but hoping to find my keys. My heart sank when I realized my pockets were empty. Even my wallet was missing.
I told myself River wouldn’t actually hurt me. This whole thing was probably designed to scare me. He wanted revenge. He wanted me to suffer because he’d suffered by losing his sister. But when push came to shove, River wouldn’t murder me or anything.
Right?
I’d simply have to trust Royce to find me. He’d done it before, and he’d do it again. If there was one person in this world I could depend on, it was Royce.
Chapter Two
Royce
Maxwell’s offhand jest had been funny at the time.
If I’m not home by 9:00 p.m., dig up River’s garden. I’ll be there waiting.
But as I glanced at the clock that read 10:30 p.m., suddenly, the joke fell flat. Naturally, I didn’t want to overreact. It wasn’t like Max was a child who was home late from kindergarten. He was a grown man capable of making his way back safely. Still, something felt off. Max knew I worried about him, so not texting or calling when he was running late wasn’t like him.
I rubbed Grumpy’s furry head, trying to work out where Max might be. He wasn’t the sort to go out drinking with friends at a moment’s notice. First of all, he didn’t really have friends, and second of all, he knew I was waiting for him. We’d planned on eating a late dinner together.
My stomach growled as if on cue, and I stood, tugging my phone from my pocket. It was perfectly reasonable to call him. I’d been very patient, but I was truly beginning to worry. I dialed his number and frowned when it went to voicemail. Stomach churning, I cleared my throat and spoke into the phone afterthe beep.
