Page 9 of Pit

“We can use her,” he says. “Let her go.”

I keep my eyes trained on her baby blues. They dilate, and then she turns her head slightly, breaking eye contact. I step back,and she releases a breath, rubbing her wrists. “We need to move her,” adds Coop.

“I got another place,” I mutter.

“I’ll keep her phone and get one of the guys to check for any trackers just to make sure. I need to keep contact with this fucking idiot,” Axel says. “In the meantime, get her talking.”

I drive half an hour to the farm I inherited from my grandparents over ten years ago. Gigi and King immediately begin barking, recognising where we are. The noise wakes Tessa, and she looks out the window at the rundown farmhouse. “Where are we?”

I smirk, getting out the truck and slamming my door. I let the dogs out before rounding her side and opening the door. I lift her and carry her towards the house, seeing as her wrists and ankles are bound again.

I dump her on the large wooden kitchen table, resting her feet on the bench, then I go to the drawer, retrieve a large knife, and cut the tape from her ankles. She holds out her arms expectedly, and I shake my head. “No, just the ankles.”

“You can’t keep me like this,” she argues. “What if I have to pee?”

“Do you?”

“Maybe,” she mutters.

“Follow me,” I tell her as I head for the back door. She struggles down from the table and follows me into the overgrown garden. I lead her down the garden path to a small shed that houses the outside toilet. I pull the dilapidated door and it creaks open.

I point, and she peers inside. “This is the toilet?”

“Do you still need to pee?” She gives her head a slight shake. “I didn’t think so.” I head back inside, and she follows. “We’re miles from anywhere,” I tell her. “And the dogs run fast. You try anything and they’ll hunt you down.”

“How long are you keeping me here?”

“Until I’m told otherwise.”

“I can’t give you any information,” she says, moving closer to me as Gigi comes into the kitchen. Tessa throws herself at me, keeping her eyes fixed on the dog. “Please, can’t you keep that thing outside?”

“She’s practically my child,” I scoff, taking her by the arms and moving her a few steps back from me. “Feel free to go out there yourself, though.”

“You’d make me live out there over a bloody dog?” she demands.

“Yep.”

She narrows her eyes. “Now, what?” she asks, looking around.

“Now, we wait.”

“For?”

“Your man to come to your rescue.”

“Then what?”

“He’ll die. And you . . . well, let’s hope there’s a plot for the two of you so you can be buried together.”

Tessa

We’ve been here for hours and the sun is starting to set, so it must be at least nine in the evening. I don’t know if Alec will get me out of this mess, but something tells me he won’t, and then I’ll be left to die at the hands of this fucked-up piece of shit who keeps scowling at me and refuses to engage in any kind of conversation.

I sit at the kitchen table with my hands resting on top, still taped together. I’m desperate for a pee, but there’s no way I cango outside. There were spiders as big as the damn dogs in that thing.

Pit chops vegetables, and if it wasn’t such a serious situation, I’d laugh. This huge, burly man chops the carrots with ease, occasionally emptying the pile into a pan. The potatoes are already on the boil, all things he got from the garden, like he’s some kind of gardening wizard.

“So, have you had this place long?” I ask. So far, he’s ignored my questions, only answering when he has some threat or a sarcastic comment to make.

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