Page 105 of Sycamore Circle

Seconds later, Seth and Mason flanked his sides. “We’re close,” Mason said. “If you ain’t praying, then you better start now.”

At last, Bo closed his eyes and prayed. But all he could seem to do was pray that he wasn’t too late.

CHAPTER 37

It was dark out now. Which meant she’d been locked in Anthony’s room for almost twelve hours. Joy was no doctor, but even she realized that she wasn’t going to survive much longer if she didn’t get to the hospital. In her more lucid moments, she’d begun to understand that it wouldn’t be a foregone conclusion to anyone that Anthony had abducted her. Until that morning, he’d always been sweet and easygoing. Plus, he had always acted like he had a really, really hard time reading, let alone writing. She would never have believed that he’d just been pretending to be illiterate this whole time.

He wasn’t too bright, but he was sneaky and devious. He’d sure fooled her, and obviously, since he’d been living under the coffee shop for several years, he’d fooled his landlords, and even the managers of Sacred Grounds. Everyone thought he was a very sweet, down-on-his-luck man. No one was going to suspect him.

Not even if they discovered her car there.

Regret filled her. Regret that she hadn’t spent more time with Chloe. That she hadn’t told her mom how much she appreciated her—even when they didn’t see eye to eye.

That she and Tony hadn’t parted ways years earlier. That she hadn’t found a way to come to terms with the fact that, even though he was a good man and a good father, he hadn’t been a great husband to her.

There were so many regrets and wishes, she had a feeling that even God himself was wishing she’d simply act instead of continuing to catalog all her mistakes.

No, that was wrong. She imagined the Lord himself was smiling because He knew that she’d appreciated one person who’d come into her life very much. She was so grateful for Bo.

He wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for her. He didn’t want her to be beautiful or talented or even younger. Instead, Bo only wanted her to be herself. For some reason, he thought she was enough, just the way she was.

Joy wished she’d felt that way more often in her life.

Lying on the floor again, she closed her eyes and tried to count her blessings. The Lord had gifted her with Bo and she was grateful, even if they’d only gotten to know each other for a short while.

Even if they’d never done anything but talk and share a single kiss.

That brought her up short. What was she really doing? Cataloging her regrets like she was giving up?

There was no way she was okay with that happening. She was going to get out of this stupid basement apartment. She’d rather get killed escaping than spend one more minute of her life drowning in self-doubts and regrets.

Pushing aside her pounding head, her weakness, and the way the wounds on her side and back felt like they were going to split open again, she forced herself to only think ahead.

And somehow managed to get to her feet.

Anthony was sitting behind his computer, his eyes fastened on the screen, like the real world was located on a twenty-inch monitor instead of in front of him. She couldn’t believe how he’d pulled the wool over her eyes. It turned out that he could read just fine. He’d fooled her and the folks at ProLiteracy something awful.

Joy took advantage of his distraction and walked toward the door.

She’d almost reached the doorknob when he surged to his feet. “What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving.” She turned the handle. To her amazement, it rotated easily. She opened the door wider. “Help!”

“No!” He rushed to her side, jerked her back. Hard.

She slammed against the door, but her hand on the frame saved her from being pulled completely inside again. Praying that someone was nearby, she screamed at the top of her lungs.

“No!” Anthony yelled. He grabbed at her shirt.

She felt it rip as he threw her to the ground. When he picked her up and threw her again, a sharp pain sliced through her lungs. When he grabbed her again, she screamed. “Help me! Someone, please!”

“Joy? Joy!”

“Yes!” she screamed again, just as Anthony yanked at her arm.

She landed on her knees. Pain lashed through her. Vaguely, she wondered if Anthony had just broken her kneecap.

When Anthony pulled on her, she resisted, flinging herself on the steps. Not even caring that her lips and nose were on the hard, dirty cement. All she could taste was the blood on her tongue and the fresh air.

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