Page 28 of Bad for Me

Isaac scoffs. “And he turned into a psycho.”

“He’s not?—”

“He broke into our house, knocked you out, and dragged our girl away by gunpoint. There is more than a single nut loose in his head, Dad!” he shouts. A vein bulges against his temple and his nostrils flare. “She’s ours, and he stole her from us.”

Anger simmers in my blood. Isaac’s right to a point. We let someone take what’s ours. I’m silent for a moment as I gather my thoughts and rein back my urge to rage with my son. It won’t do us any good right now.

“How’d he even know Meredith was with us?” Isaac asks after a minute. His following gasp tells me he’s figured out the answer to his own question. “He was the reason there were footprints out back. He was the one standing across the street watching the house—it wasn’t a neighbor! He’s been watching us.”

That makes sense now. I nod, my thoughts racing. “What I’m interested in is for how long?”

“Why does that matter?”

“Didn’t you mention believing I entered Meredith’s house sooner than you thought when we went to retrieve her?” I turn to face Isaac and watch as understanding dawns on him. “He probably witnessed us relocating her. Better yet, I wonder if he was at, or at least nearby, the office and watched her run. He’s a good man, Isaac, but he’s paranoid. Maybe he watched her run out and thought she was in trouble and followed to keep an eye on her.” That seems more like the man I know. “Then, when he thinks she’s actually in trouble, he acts. Rather than call the police, he took things into his own hands.”

Isaac growls between clenched teeth. “So he’s a stalker.”

If this situation wasn’t so dire, I’d point out that we are too. Once this is resolved, I’ll return to this thought and try to find some humor in it.

“My concern is where he got the gun from. There has never been any indication that he is a violent man.” My eyes scan the street. There are a few red taillights up ahead—can one of them be Justin and Meredith?

God, I hope she’s alright. My chest tightens as anxiety crawls up my spine.

“Do you think he wants her for himself?” Isaac asks after a few minutes of silence.

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Do you think he’ll kill her?”

My brows furrow. “I don’t want to think he’s capable of that.”

“That’s not a no.”

My hands fist in my lap as I stare straight ahead. He’s right, it’s not. With a deep breath, I look over at my son. He shoots me a worried glance.

“What? What is it?”

“I don’t know what to expect,” I answer grimly. “Just brace yourself for anything but keep in mind that we need to stay calm. He’s in a bad headspace right now. We don’t want to drive him into doing something we’ll all regret.”

14

MEREDITH

“We’re driving awfully fast.”

I glance at the wintery world rushing past us, my death grip on the edge of my seat growing tighter. The roads are relatively clear, but there’s the possibility of black ice or hitting some slush the wrong way that could send us careening into a snow drift. At the speed we’re going, a crash could be fatal.

As if being held at gunpoint isn’t worrisome enough.

The man behind the wheel ignores me as he continues to mutter under his breath. One of his hands grips the steering wheel while the other keeps a tight hold on the gun that sits in his lap.

I lick my lips nervously.

“Will you tell me your name, at least?” If I can just get him to talk—to me that is—then I think I can break through to him. Maybe I can talk him out of whatever he’s planning.

The man’s lips suddenly seal shut. Shooting me a furtive glance, I find myself staring into sunken eyes. When was the last time he got any sleep?

“You know my name, right? You know who I am?” I peel my fingers off the seat to press my palm against my chest. “Dr. Moore, but you can call me Meredith.”

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