Page 7 of Shrouded Past

A breath escaped. Her hand relaxed on the door handle. She let it go. Something about Bryce made her trust him.

Her body ached. She raised her hand to the matted hair along her face and realized she had a gash across the palm of her hand from when she’d fought her kidnapper.

With her lack of response, Bryce turned his attention to the front windshield while sheets of rain whipped the truck around. “The storm’s getting worse. It’s time to get off this road.” He slid the truck’s gear into Drive and headed away from the wreck. Piper watched it disappear through the weepy side mirror and prayed she’d seen the last ofhim. Of Protector as well.

The windshield wipers slapped out a steady thump, thump, thump as the rain and wind intensified.

Days had passed since she’d fled Protector’s home. She had no idea how many exactly, but she believed two in total. “What state are we in?” She needed answers. Might as well start with that one.

Bryce whipped his head her way, shock shooting his brows upward. “This is Hope Island, Maine.”

Maine! Had she been held here in Maine or another state. She had no idea where Protector lived. Her kidnapper had driven for a long time taking back roads to keep from being spotted. When he’d stop anywhere, he’d jab a needle into her neck and the world around her faded. When she woke again, they were driving down another deserted path.

“Where are you from?” Bryce’s question seemed simple enough to answer yet Piper couldn’t because she remembered nothing before the basement and Protector.

It was bad enough being held by someone for three years, but to not remember anything about your life made it so much worse. “I don’t know.” She somehow managed to keep from showing her hopelessness.

Bryce didn’t bother to hide his shock. “You don’t remember where you live? Where did your kidnapper take you from?”

She realized how crazy it sounded. How could she tell him that she’d escaped one bad man only to be taken by another.

“I’ve been held in one place for the past three years,” she said in way of answer. Protector never let her leave the house. He’d kept her mostly confined to the basement only occasionally letting her visit the living room when it became too cold in the basement. Or he’d offer her a meal in the kitchen from time to time. He told her he’d done everything in his power to protect her. But she didn’t know from what.

Until she’d finally gotten the nerve to ask that question.

He’d answered, “From the devil.”

“You were held for three years by your kidnapper?”

Bryce thought the man who had snatched her from the wooded roadside where she’d been fleeing was her only captor.

A gurgle of laughter bubbled inside her. Not from humor—no, never from humor.

“He wasn’t the first one who held me captive. Protector—that’s what he called himself—kept me in his basement for three years. I have no idea where it was. He told me he was protecting me.”

She didn’t have to look at Bryce to know how far-fetched she sounded. If it hadn’t happened to her, she’d probably have thought it a lie to top all lies. But it did happen to her.

Tears were close. She fought against them.

She’d survived the man who claimed to be protecting her from the devil, and she’d escaped from a kidnapper who had snatched her up after only a glimpse of freedom.

Skeleton Man had told her he was returning her home. Back where she belonged. She’d thought he meant back to Protector. When she’d pleaded with him not to take her back there, he’d grinned in such a way it had been far more frightening than Protector’s rants.

During those years in captivity, she’d prayed to be restored to her family. But the darkness in Skeleton Man’s eyes told her the family he was returning her to wasn’t what she’d dreamed of.

Bryce turned off the road onto a long drive, drawing her attention to the present.

A two-story house appeared through the rain. Several lights were on. Beyond the house, ocean waves marched onto shore like soldiers going into battle.

Bryce stopped in front of the garage and hit the button to open it. The door slowly raised. He pulled inside and hit the button once again.

Memories of the house she’d fled poured in. She’d left through the garage, so afraid he would catch her before she got away.

“Hang on a second. I’ll help you.” Bryce killed the engine. His voice snapped her from that memory.

He got out and came around to her door and opened it. Piper attempted to stand, but her legs gave out on her.

“I’ll carry you in.” Bryce scooped her up as if she weighed nothing. He carried her inside, past the kitchen that appeared to be under construction and into the living room. He sat her down gently on the sofa in front of the fireplace.

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