Page 148 of Moth to a Flame

Lester grumbles, setting me down. “Go.”

Nothing in his eyes indicates that he’s heard anything the broadcaster said over the radio. Maybe his hearing has been impaired in prison. Someone who hates child molesters could’ve punched his ear or messed with it.

One can only hope.

“Go,” he hisses again, his filthy fingers clutching my chin. “I would’ve come up with creative ways to force the pee out of you intrusive ways. Except you’ve grown to be such a fucking psycho. When we get to Alaska, though…I have plenty of zip ties there. Then I’ll turn your holes into mush. I’ll destroy your insides. You can bet your ass I will.”

I believe him, biting my lip as hard as I can. I won’t let him see the fear on my face.

“Bitch.” He releases me, and I stumble to the ground. My cheek lands on gravel and sand, and I bite down a gasp. Heat spreads on the wounded area. I’m not bleeding, but I am hurt.

I hope…

I do more than hope. I pray.

God, if you’re out there, please, let Landon find my nails. Let him findme. For the time being, I’m safe. Once we get to his safe house, throwing me on the floor would be the child’s play compared to what this monster can and will do to me. Let Landon find me first. Please.

That’ll have to do.

His arms are crossed over his chest. “Go, bitch. Pee or it’s back to the van.”

The thought of him looking at my naked body has my stomach roiling. “Turn around.”

“Pee.” He’s on me in a second. His hand wraps around my throat and he yanks me up until I’m standing on shaky legs. My back is slammed into the truck, and his ugly, raging face is in mine. “Pee.” Another slam into the car. “Fucking.”Slam. “Pee.”

I’m getting dizzy with each blow.

“Fine. Fine.” Fainting isn’t a luxury I can’t afford. Reluctantly, I agree to do as he says. “Move over so I can do it.”

The only way to pee with my ankles tied is to lean my back up against the van.

It’s painful to wriggle my bare feet on the gravel so I can crouch.

It’s humiliating to expose myself to him like that.

It’s the absolute worst to have him leering at me as I go. I’m about to break down and cry with how small and inconsequential I feel under his scrutiny. How it hurts to have him revel in my pain.

You’re strong. You fought me. You survived. You’re okay. You’re here.

“Burn in hell,” I spit at him while I fix my clothes back in place.

“Not anytime soon. I plan on sticking around for a long time.” He grabs me by the throat, dragging me back to the car. “You and me, we’ve only just begun.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

Regan

The drive to Alaskais long. Too long.

It’s because we’re not going in a straight line. Though I’ve never traveled outside New York, I know we’re not.

We’re on the run, after all. It’s only to be expected that we pass through deserted small towns. That for miles and miles, there’ll be no buildings outside the window. Lifting myself to look through it and maybe call for help is damn near impossible with my ankles bound. The most I can do is get up on my knees.

Thankfully, my wrists are still free. My rapist and now kidnapper doesn’t stop for long enough in any convenient store to buy anything more than food and water. He hardly even sleeps, which also works in my favor.

He’ll lose if he does. My photos and his have been spread nationwide.

Of course, he’s blaming me. Of course, he’s punishing me for it.

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