Fuck.
Ronnie was going to sell her own daughter. Forget a jail cell. That was too cushy for the crime she’d committed. A fierce rage, unlike anything he had experienced before, rushed through his system.
Boiling with fury, he clenched his teeth violently. She’d be sorry when he got his hands on her. There was a special place in hell for the likes of her and the people she’d involved herself with. He would see them all burn.
“Fuck, that’s messed up,” Finch uttered.
“What if... what if they do that t-to Sutton? What if you can’t g-get to her in time? We’ll never see her again. Oh God, Wyatt. She sacrificed herself for us. They’ll be so angry we escaped. They’ll take it out on her. What if they ki-kill her?”
Wyatt couldn’t listen to any more of her panicked words. He grabbed her into a hug, where she sobbed into his chest. “Shh,” he soothed, running a calming hand down her back, even though he was anything but calm. “Shh. It will be okay. We’ll get her back.”
“What if they’ve already taken her away somewhere?”
“Then I won’t stop till I find her. She’ll be home with us soon, then you both can kick my butt at Uno again.”
Hoping for a laugh, he only got a sniffle. Bracketing her face in his hands, he regarded her watery, devastated eyes. What he wouldn’t give to banish every shadow he could see in their depths. It would take time, but he was determined to do just that.
“I’ve got this, little heart. I’ll bring her home.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.” And he would fulfill that promise. No other outcome would be acceptable. Sutton would come home, and she would be his forever, and he would be hers.
Chapter 28
Sutton’seyespoppedopen,and with a groan, she closed them again. A sledgehammer pounded away inside her skull. Her lower back and ribs ached, the pain only allowing her to take short, shallow breaths.
Once again, she was waking up alone with an agonizing pain in her head and the knowledge that she had lost another love fracturing her heart.
It’s amazing how life came full circle. Two years ago, she’d woken up alone in the hospital with a resolute grief settling deep inside. And the overwhelming guilt she’d felt was suffocating.
This time waking up alone, the grief was there, but different. This grief came from knowing she had had a true love and lost it. She’d caused him unspeakable pain through her careless interactions with his sister. She hoped she’d succeeded in giving her back to him. He could raise his sister in peace and happiness. That’s all she could ever want for him.
Sutton found herself trapped in a basement, tied to a chair, her hands already numb from their position behind her. She pulled, yanked, and twisted, spending way too much energy trying to free her hands, only to injure herself further. The tackiness of blood was drying on her hands. The zip ties were so tight they cut into the skin at her wrists, and her struggles only made it worse.
Left alone in the dark, she didn’t know what was worse: being unable to move or being alone in the shadowy gloom. She never thought she’d be afraid of the dark; the unknown was probably freaking her out the most. Not the actual darkness. She didn’t know what came next, and the possibilities that ran through her head in the dark were messing with her.
She tried some deep breathing exercises to help her relax, to no avail. Every noise made her jump out of her skin. She wasn’t alone down in her prison, either. A skittering of rodents as they scurried around doing whatever pests did played havoc with her senses. Her overactive imagination didn’t help as she envisioned what those animals would do to her if she died in this basement.
She closed her eyes against the oppressive darkness and attempted to block out extraneous noises. But that only made her focus on her physical problems. Her wrists ached, and if she moved even the slightest bit, pain raced up her arms. Her mouth was so dry her tongue felt like sandpaper. And she had to pee. How could one be so incredibly dehydrated and have to pee at the same time? She wanted to laugh at her situation but didn’t have the energy.
Heavy footsteps above her had her eyes flying open. A door creaked, then those heavy boots were stomping down the stairs into her prison. She couldn’t make out much in the darkness but sensed a figure standing near her. The snick of a pull chain reached her ears an instant before the light turned on. She blinked against the sudden brightness.
The man stood back out of the direct light, remaining in the shadows. The light swayed over her head like she was in some bizarre noir movie. A chuckle slipped past her cracked lips at the cliché of her situation.
“You find something humorous?” a deep voice asked from the shadows.
“Sure,” she croaked, then cleared her throat. “Can’t you see the humor in this? A prisoner tied in a chair, a creepy man in the shadows. Is the torture scene next? I gotta tell you, it seems a little cliché. Couldn’t think of a better plan? Something that hasn’t been done to death?”
“You have a smart mouth on you.”
“So my mother always told me.”
“You’ll be broken of that eventually.”
She laughed again. “Oh God, that’s a good one. You’re going to beat the sassiness out of me, I take it?”
“Not me. Your new owner.”