Page 63 of Pretty Lies & Ugly Truths

He managed to hack into the outdoor security feed of the McGregor family estate, just on the outskirts of the city, and confirmed that was where Maggie was taken. Seeing her there, in black and white on the screen, handstied behind her back with that bastard’s arm around her, has me seeing red.

As he leads her up the stairs, I see something that has my throat tightening.

“Wait, go back for a second,” I ask, and he does, pausing it right before she disappears off screen. There, under the jacket, she wears a faded, worn t-shirt that I would recognize anywhere.

She’s wearingmyshirt.

I press the heels of my palms into my eyes. Even though we fought and she was angry at me—and rightfully so—she still wore my t-shirt to bed. I never stopped to let myself think about what would happen once I got her back, whether or not she would forgive me or hate me for what I did, but seeing this gives me hope that maybe, we’ll be okay.

“Becks, I can’t… We have to get her back,” I say, my voice breaking.

“I know,” he assures me, his hand gripping my shoulder, “and we will.”

The absolute certainty in his voice offers me some comfort and gives me the renewed energy to keep going.

“Ok… We need a plan.”

24

Maggie

After a very brief tour of the main hall, I am untied and deposited in a large room. As soon as the door closes, I hear the click of a lock, that has my heart rate spiking. Immediately, I run to it, turning the handle, my worst fears confirmed.

I’m locked in. I try the window in vain, but of course, it doesn’t open either.

I scour the lavish bedroom for any way to get free, but the other two doors lead to a large walk-in closet and an adjoining bathroom. There is no other way out.

Tears fill my eyes as I mentally berate myself for running from Archer. Had I just stayed, we would have been together, and none of this would have happened.

Instead, I’m trapped in some madman’s home, in God knows where, and Archer probably doesn’t even know I’m gone. I told him I needed space, and with the way I walked out, how long will it take before he comes looking for me?Will he come looking for me?

And if he does and he finds me gone, what will he think? Will he think I ran?

I know he said he wouldn’t let me go, that he would hunt me down, but what if he decides I’m not worth the trouble after all?

Tendrils of doubt begin to creep in as uncertainty gnaws at me, leaving me feeling raw and exposed. Darkness closes in, as if trying to swallow me whole, and for a moment, I almost let it. It would be easier to give in than to fight back.

Flashes from that night all those weeks ago flood my mind. The feeling of warm blood, wet and sticky on my hands, remind me I am not weak or defenseless. The last man who hurt me, who tried to take me against my will, found himself dead.

A few days ago, I would never have thought myself capable of something like that. Though there has always been a certain darkness lurking under my skin, I managed to keep it at bay. But I guess, like any wild animal, when backed into a corner, I will do whatever is necessary to get free.

I don’t know why I was brought here, but I find it seriously unlikely that it’s for some twisted family reunion. If so, he could have just introduced himself that day at the store and invited me for a visit, instead of knocking me out and kidnapping me.

What I do know, though, is that I have to assume no one is coming for me.

I need to be smart and play my cards right if I ever want to get out of here.

I don’t seeanyone else for the rest of the day, save for the young woman who brings in my meals. She appears to be about my age, and is rather pretty, with her mousy brown hair and brown doe eyes.

I explain to her my situation, tell her that I’m being held here against my will—in hopes of appealing to her better nature—but it falls on deaf ears. No matter what I say, she never reacts; she only continues to look straight ahead as she exchanges my untouched trays without uttering a single word.

The next morning, I am still in bed when I hear the door open, and the same girl enters to inform me I have been instructed to eat breakfast with the family.Downstairs.

She leaves me, and though I have no desire to eat withthe family, I know this would be a good opportunity to familiarize myself with the layout and the day-to-day activity of this place.

I throw the covers back off the bed I’d slipped into last night, noticing I’m still dressed in Archer’s shirt. I bury my nose in the collar, breathing in the delicious sandalwood and citrus scent that is quickly starting to fade. My heart lurches as I’m hit with a longing so strong, it causes me to double over.

I miss Archer and Jane. I just want to go home. A lone tear trails down my cheek, and I swipe at it. I don’t have time to give in to my grief, not if I want to get out of here. So, steeling my spine, I push it down to be dealt with later.

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