Page 55 of Cruel Cravings

“We’ve been in touch with your doctor, Dr. Wolford,” he cuts off crudely. “He told us what happened at your last session. You fled before professionals could arrive.”

“That’s because they were going to—I didn’t want—it wasn’t fair!” I blurt out, losing any bearing I’ve had left. I stomp myfoot and wave my hands, desperate to make them understand. “I told him I was sorry, but I swear I thought he was about to… I wasn’t… please!”

The air is thick, crushing me from all sides. I feel dizzy and confused, my mind racing. I thought I had it together, but the walls are quickly crashing down and I’m finding myself defenseless. Backed into a corner.

And they haven’t even stepped inside the cabin yet to find the other surprise waiting for them. He’s massive, with a minotaur mask, bound and chained to a chair, my prisoner for the past few days…

If they find Brontë, I won’t just be in trouble. I’d be finished for good.

“Ms. Hendrix, we need you to come with us,” McGrath says. “We need to bring you down to the station for some questions and then you’ll be released into the custody of Dr. Wolford and the psychiatric hospital for the time being.”

A wave of vertigo smacks into me.

Everything around me feels like it spins. The officers become fuzzy distortions that I have to blink to visually set right again.

It’s the effect the threat has on me—and telling me I’ll be sent back to the hospital is the scariest threat anyone could make.

I’ll be locked up again. Caged like an animal.

No freedom. No agency. No real life.

Definitely no chance to find my sister and make things right.

Taking a shaky breath, I nod in defeat, my voice a quiet whisper. “O-okay.”

“This is for the best, Ms. Hendrix,” says Dudley, his inflection different. The notes of suspicion are gone, replaced by a condescending sense of concern.

“Can I… do you mind if I grab my jacket?” I ask timidly. “I get cold easily.”

McGrath sighs while Dudley reluctantly agrees. “Make it quick, Ms. Hendrix.”

“I promise it’ll be just a second. Thanks!”

I snap shut the door before either can react and draw my deepest breath yet. It’s the kind of breath that prepares me for what I have to do.

But it isn’t my fault—it’stheirfault. They’re forcing my hand.

If they’d just left me alone, none of this would happen. Everything would be fine!

I kneel in front of the many things I’ve packed for the road, snapping open the case that I’ve set down next to my duffle bag.

From across the room, I can feel Brontë’s heavy gaze on me. He’s still watching my every move to the end. He’s kept quiet as the sheriffs interrogated me when he could’ve easily shouted for help. But I don’t have time to think about Brontë or his twisted sense of loyalty toward me.

I have to save myself.

I slide on my jacket and reach for the doorknob with one arm. The other remains behind my back. As I draw the door open and find Sheriff McGrath and Deputy Dudley in the middle of a short conversation, I take the leap.

There’s no time to second guess or hesitate.

This is what I have to do to protect myself and keep the bad guys away.

In a quick motion, I reveal what I’m hiding behind my back, pointing the pistol at McGrath first and squeezing the trigger. The bullet hits him square in the chest, cutting him down to his knees at once.

With no hesitation, I swing the barrel in Dudley’s direction and do the same. My finger pulls at the trigger and the pistol jumps in my grip as it goes off.

Another shot rings through the woods.

18.Brontë

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