Page 88 of The Rookie's Second Chance

"Nice try, Detective," Mandy sneered, her face twisted in triumph. "But you're not going anywhere."

I glared at her. I couldn't give up, not now. Not when Jake and the others could be closing in. I had to stall to keep Mandy here.

"Jake will find us, Mandy," I said, trying to sound confident despite my fear. "He won't stop until he does."

Her laughter chilled me to the bone. "Let him try. By the time he gets here, it'll be too late."

I eyed Mandy warily, trying to understand her twisted logic. "Why are you keeping me alive if you're just planning to kill me?" I asked.

Mandy sighed, almost as if she was tired of explaining. "I never wanted to kill anyone, Kayla. And I won't kill you... if Jake sees reason." Her eyes darkened. "But I will if I have to."

I struggled against the coarse net, but Mandy's grip was unyielding as she dragged me back to the cabin. The ground beneath me was uneven, jolting my body with every pull. Once inside, Mandy wasted no time in securing me to an old, moth-eaten bed. The ropes were tight against my wrists and ankles, cutting into my skin.

"You might as well get comfortable," Mandy taunted, her laughter echoing in the hollow room.

A sense of despair washed over me. I was a pawn in her twisted game, a leverage against Jake. I watched helplessly as Mandy sat down at a desk, her back to me, and started typing on her computer. I couldn't see the screen, but her focus was intense.

I turned my face into the musty pillow, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to overwhelm me. The pillow smelled of damp and decay.

I cry, tears streaming down my face. Fear for my own life mixed with frustration at being so utterly powerless. Mandy had orchestrated everything so meticulously, leaving me with no way out.

In those moments of despair, my thoughts turned to Jake. I hoped and prayed that he would find me before Mandy could enact whatever twisted plan she had in mind. The thought of him searching for me, of his determination and love, gave me a sliver of hope in the darkness that enveloped me.

I tried to calm my racing heart, to think clearly despite the terror that gripped me. There had to be a way out of this, a way to signal for help or escape. But every movement sent fresh pain shooting through my limbs, the ropes refusing to give even an inch.

I forced myself to breathe deeply, to conserve my energy for whatever chance might present itself. I couldn't let Mandy win. I had to survive this, for Jake, for myself, for justice.

As I lay there, trying to find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos, the chilling thought of what Mandy was capable of haunted me. She was unpredictable and dangerous, a wild card in a game with the highest stakes.

All I could do was wait, hope, and prepare for whatever came next. But deep down, I knew that my fate was no longer in my hands. It was a terrifying realization, one that made the cabin feel even more like a prison than it already was.

The phone in her pocket chimed repeatedly, probably Jake's desperate attempts to reach me. Each chime was a stark reminder of my helplessness, of the danger that loomed over us.

Mandy was unhinged, driven by an obsession that had already led to so much destruction. I needed to find a way out, to warn Jake, to stop her. But how? I was tied up, at her mercy, in a remote cabin in the woods.

I strained against my bonds, trying to loosen them, but they held tight. Mandy continued her work at the computer, oblivious to my efforts. I had to keep trying, had to find a way to escape.

Time was running out, and I knew that Mandy's patience was thin. I needed to act fast, to outsmart her, to survive. But the question remained: how?

Chapter Forty-One

JAKE

Isat hunched over my desk at the station, the glow of the computer screen casting an eerie light across the scattered papers and notes. My fingers flew over the keyboard, desperately trying to piece together any clue that might lead me to Kayla. My phone was a constant companion, buzzing with updates from Key West PD.

The images they'd sent over of the crime scene where Mandy had left her family for dead haunted me. Each detail was a vivid reminder of what she was capable of. The thought of Kayla suffering a similar fate twisted my gut in knots. I couldn’t shake the image of her beaten to death with something as mundane as a frying pan. It was too much, too brutal.

I rubbed my eyes, weary from the relentless search. My focus was solely on finding Kayla, but every lead turned into a dead end. I felt helpless and frustrated. The clock on the wall ticked away, each second a reminder of how long Kayla had been in Mandy's grasp.

The chief approached my desk, his expression somber. "Jake, you need to go home. Get some rest. We're all working on this."

I looked up at him, anger and desperation mixing in my voice. "Rest? How can I rest when Kayla's out there with that... that lunatic? I can't just sit back."

He placed a hand on my shoulder, trying to be reassuring. "I understand, but you're running on fumes. We've got the whole department on this. We'll find her."

I shook his hand off, standing up. "If it was your partner or anyone you cared about, would YOU go home?" My voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet hum of the station.

The chief met my gaze, his eyes softening. "No, I suppose I wouldn't." He sighed, stepping back. "Alright, keep at it. But call for backup the moment you have something concrete."

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