Page 15 of Gage

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, stealing my breath.

“When I’m done with you,” he continued, his tone almost casual, “I’ll have to kill you too. So, if I were you, I’d be as nice as possible. That might make me want to keep you around a little longer.”

I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Where is my van?”

He chuckled darkly. “That’s all you have to say? Where is my van?” He laughed again, a sound devoid of humor. “We left it where it broke down. Let the police haul it in. They can try to figure out where you disappeared to.”

“They’ll know something’s wrong,” I said, trying to keep him talking. “Your men bled all over it, and the windows are busted out.”

“Yes,” he said with a smirk. “But we’re miles from where it was. I told you—I followed you for over two hundred miles. When I want something, I go after it. I heard you at the grocery store telling that woman where you were headed. I knew exactly where you’d be, and when I saw you stranded, it felt like fate.”

“My dad will keep looking for me,” I said, injecting more confidence into my voice than I felt. “He won’t stop until he finds me.”

“Let him look,” he sneered. “This place is miles from any freeway, and there’s no reason for anyone to come near my home. No one will find you.”

I bit back the urge to mention DNA and fingerprints.Don’t let him see your hope,I told myself. But I clung to the thought that the evidence I’d left behind might lead someone to me.

“I’ll give you a day to recuperate,” he said, his voice disturbingly kind. “Daniel shouldn’t have hit you. He’ll regret that for a long time. You’re mine—no one touches you but me.”

The room seemed to shrink around me as his words sank in. I needed to get out of here. A day wasn’t much, but it was something.

“I hope you don’t think I’ll just let you rape me without fighting back,” I spat, my voice low and ice-cold.

His grin twisted into something darker, more depraved. “Oh, darling,” he drawled, his voice dripping with menace. “That’s the fun part. I want you to fight me. I want to use all my strength against you. The thought of it is already turning me on.”

Every cell in my body screamed with revulsion, but I forced myself to keep my expression hard, unyielding.Don’t let him see your fear.

“I’ll let you rest,” he said, stepping back. “There’s water and some food in the corner. Don’t try to leave—this place has cameras everywhere, and it’s locked up tight.”

As soon as he left, I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing.Think. You have to get out of here. If you don’t escape, he’ll rape you, and then he’ll kill you.

I turned my head slightly, taking in the room. The bed I lay on was bolted to the floor. A small table stood in the corner, just within reach of the water and food he’d mentioned. A camera blinked red from above the door.

I had less than a day to figure out how to outsmart a monster.

I walked around the room, scanning every exit. The window was nailed shut, rusted nails crooked against the splintering wood. The door was the only way out, but I didn’t even know the layout of this house. Shadows loomed in every corner, and the stale air smelled of mildew and neglect. Did he have dogs that would bark and give me away? I was sure he did—probably five, maybe more.

The thought made my chest tighten. On a hunch, I opened the closet door. My closet back home had a crawl space that led under the house—maybe this one did, too. The darkness insideswallowed me whole. The faint smell of mothballs and dust filled my nose as I reached out, my fingers brushing against a rough wall. Feeling along the surface, I finally found the switch and flicked it on. The dim bulb buzzed to life, casting jagged shadows over piles of old boxes and forgotten junk.

If a crawl space was here, I’d have to dig through this mess to find it. Anxiety clawed at my mind. Was I wasting precious time? A cat’s mournful cry echoed from beneath the floorboards, pulling my attention to a crack in the closet floor. My breath hitched as I noticed a small piece of frayed rope sticking out.

I held my breath and gave it a gentle tug, praying it wouldn’t make a noise. The rope resisted for a moment before a section of the floor creaked and popped up—a trapdoor. My heart hammered as I lifted it and peered into the inky blackness below. I flicked off the light, carefully lowering the trapdoor back into place behind me.

Now what? I crouched in the suffocating darkness, wishing for even a sliver of light to guide me. My fingers brushed the gritty dirt floor beneath me. Which way should I go? The silence pressed down on me like a weight. I tried to make as little noise as possible, silently thanking my lucky stars that I’d put on my shoes before everything went sideways.

Suddenly, I felt warm fur brush against my leg. My stomach flipped as I froze. Slowly, I turned to find a large dog standing beside me. My breath caught in my throat. To my amazement, he leaned in and licked my hand, his soft tongue a stark contrast to the danger around me. Tears welled in my eyes, a strange mixture of relief and despair. Without a sound, he turned and padded away, glancing back as if to beckon me. I followed him, barely daring to hope.

We reached an opening, narrow and barely big enough for me to squeeze through. The dog slipped through easily, his dark coat blending with the shadows. Before climbing out, I scannedthe yard ahead. The moon hung low, casting a silvery glow over the overgrown grass and scattered debris.

My skin prickled as I imagined motion lights flickering on or cameras tracking my every move. My breathing hitched as panic threatened to take over. I shut my eyes tightly, forcing myself to take slow, deep breaths until the rising tide of fear ebbed.

The dog returned, nudging me with his nose and whining softly. He wanted me to follow. Was I reading him right? My instincts screamed to stay hidden, but something in his quiet urgency gave me the courage to crawl forward. My body trembled, and my knees scraped against the rough ground. My mind screamed at me to move faster, but my limbs felt heavy and uncooperative.

The dog came back again and licked my face, his warm breath grounding me. In that moment, I silently promised that if I survived this, I’d keep him. I’d name him Jasper, after the boy in middle school who used to follow me everywhere. A small smile crept onto my lips despite the tension. Did Matthew ever remember Jasper? Probably not.

My heart pounded as I emerged from under the house. The dog moved silently, leading me step by step through the yard. The woods stretched ahead, dense and uninviting. Not a single motion light flickered where he walked. I glanced back at the house, its peeling paint and sagging porch bathed in eerie shadows. That man wasn’t lying—no one would have found me out here.

We slipped into the woods, the dog’s quiet confidence guiding me. Every step felt like a gamble. Twigs snapped underfoot, and I winced, my ears straining for any sign of pursuit. I knew he probably had traps and alarms hidden everywhere. My thoughts spiraled back to a friend from the service who once told me about his dad rigging lights and sensors around their property to detect intruders.

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