Page 1 of He Will Come for Me

Prologue

He will come for me. He always comes for me.

Chapter 1

My name is McKenzie…I suck in a deep breath, ignoring the rapid beating of my heart.I’m twenty-three years old. I’ve been kidnapped. But he will come for me. He always comes for me.I squeeze my eyes shut at the realization that I can’t remember whoheis anymore. But I say this mantra in my head everyday so I don’t forget. Fear settles on my chest like a boulder.What if one day I don’t even remember my name?

I shift uncomfortably on the cot; the springs dig into my back and hips. The chains around my wrists dig in and I try my best to hold in a whimper as they rub against my raw skin.

I’m going to die here. I’m going to die here, not knowing if there’s really someone out there looking for me. Is there someone out there that misses me?

I jump when a loud bang erupts upstairs. There are shouts coming from above me and several pops. I swallow convulsively.Is that gunfire?I squeeze my eyes shut and curl into a ball, hoping this isn’t how I die. “He will come for me.” I cough, so I finish it in my head.He always comes for me.

There are voices outside the room I’m in and goosebumps breakout along my body. I curl even more into myself, hoping I die quickly. I scoff as a tear slips out of the corner of my eye.

Who am I kidding? I’ve been slowly dying since the day I was brought to this prison. I want my father.

I imagine being in the backyard of my childhood home and him pushing me on the swing that hung on the biggest tree. Me giggling and asking him to push me higher and him saying I’m going to fly away if I go any higher. Maybe it’s my father that will rescue me.

The door behind me bursts open and I brace my body for what’s going to come next.

“In here!”

I’m suddenly thankful I don’t have the strength to roll over. I won’t have to see how they kill me. Other people enter the room and I hold my breath, hoping they’ll think I’m already dead. Although if they think that and they’ve killed the people upstairs, I’ll be left here to rot.

“Fuck. I’m going to make every person suffer,” a voice booms behind me.

“She’s chained to the wall,” another voice states.

I stay perfectly still, not sure of their intentions. Someone sits on the cot and I groan as it causes my sores to rub against the spring painfully. My heart beats wildly in my chest, afraid of what they’re going to do next.

“Do you know where the keys are?”

It’s the same voice that was booming, but he’s soothing now.Why?I suck in a breath as my body shakes from my nerves.Willhe make me suffer too?I try a few times to speak, but it takes me several tries before I’m able. It’s been a long time since I’ve used my vocal cords above a whisper. I’ve learned how to stay as quiet as possible. The only time I allow myself to speak is when I try to remember, but even that is hard sometimes.

“Hook.” I cough again. “Wall.” My voice is cracked and raspy. There isn’t a response, but there is movement, then the distinct rattle of the keys. A hand touches me and I jerk away.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to unlock your chains.”

I force myself to stay as still as possible, but my body is shaking and I can’t stop it. The man unlocks the chains around my wrists. He touches them and I cry out in pain. There’s cursing, then he’s lifting me from the cot and holding me in his arms.

My wrists are on fire, my throat is dry, and every muscle in my body aches. I hope they kill me quickly. Someone places a blanket over me and I sigh at the warmth it provides. I can’t remember the last time I was warm. I’m sure my teeth have cracks in them from how often I shivered from the cold. I haven’t opened my eyes once since I heard the bang upstairs. As warmth invades my body, I know in a matter of seconds I’ll be asleep or dead. I’m not sure which yet.

So, I force myself to crack my eyes open to see who my rescuer is. At least I hope he’s my rescuer. He might be taking me to another prison for all I know. Or maybe he’s taking me somewhere else to kill me.

I blink several times before his face comes into focus. When it does, my heart fills with lead. His icy eyes collide with mine and the warmth that was enveloping me vanishes. I pull my chapped lips between my teeth as a different kind of fear envelops me.

“You,” I whisper. His eyes narrow, but if he responds I don’t hear him because darkness overtakes me.

The first thing I notice is how warm I am. The second thing I notice is the smell of lavender. Opening my eyes slowly, I stare at the ceiling, blinking until the sandpaper feeling goes away.Where am I?I swallow.Does my prison have a gilded cage now?

My name is McKenzie. I’m twenty-three years old. I’ve been kidnapped. But he will come for me.“He always comes for me,” I say, finishing my mantra out loud. Someone shifts next to me and my eyes fly to the man sitting in the chair. He’s reclined back in the chair, arm draped along the armrest with an empty glass hanging from his fingers. Staring at me with a blank look on his face. His jaw ticks as I return his stare.

He looks different, yet the same. His jaw is more defined, eyes are even icier than they were if that’s possible, and his dark blond hair is longer than it was when we went to school together. He looks taller and has more muscle, a deadly force I would not want to cross, and my father’s enemy, making him mine as well.

Now I’m his prisoner. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, rubbing a finger along the rim of the glass. I try to swallow and realize how parched I am.

“Water?” I ask. He stands, places his glass on the nightstand, grabbing the cup on the nightstand, and places his hand behind my head to lift me. He brings the cup to my lips. I try to grab it to do it myself. I’m not helpless. He refuses to let me hold the cup, and I’m too thirsty and weak to argue. I don’t take my eyes off him as I take a sip from the cup.What if he’s drugged it?

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