Page 99 of Risk

Gary stuck to back roads through the busy city, and then he pulled onto the highway, taking us out of the city. I tried to pay attention to where we were going, not that it was going to help me in any way, but we’re somewhere on the outskirts of Allentown.

The roads are quiet and mostly free of cars. He knows exactly where he’s going. I have a feeling he already planned this all out—probably from the moment Kaden refused to give him any money. He’s just been waiting and biding his time.

He truly is a sick individual, and I’m stuck in a car with him.

Gary takes a turnoff and pulls the car into a deserted area that’s filled with old rail cars. Looks like the place that they come to die.

I don’t want to die.

I’m not going to die. I’m gonna be fine. Kaden will get the money, and he’ll come and get me, and this will be all over. A horrible memory. But a memory all the same.

He parks the car over by the side of the railroad. I wonder if it’s an active railroad. There’s constant rumbling from the ground, like you feel when there’s an oncoming train, but I’ve not seen one yet, which makes me wonder if there’s an underground railway tunnel running below here as well. Although, if a train does come through here, it’s not like I can flag a passing train down for help.

He turns the engine off. I can feel him looking at me, but I refuse to make eye contact with the man.

“How far along are you?” he asks, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from the dash and lighting one up.

I really don’t want to inhale cigarette smoke. “Can I roll down my window?” I ask.

“No.”

He does, however, roll his down, and he blows the smoke out of it. To my surprise, he holds the cigarette by the window so the smoke curls up into the air outside, disappearing.

So, he doesn’t mind kidnapping me at gunpoint, but he’ll make sure not to blow smoke in my direction.

Fucking psycho.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He takes another inhale of his cigarette.

“What was it again?”

He lets out an annoyed sigh. “How far along are you?” He waves the gun-toting hand in the direction of my bump.

“Five months.”

“You’re big for five months. Mind you, Kaden’s mother was big with him, and he was big, like me, and you’ve got the Scott genes growing in there.”

How is this man in any way genetically connected to Kaden?

Well, Kaden might have his genes, but he must have his mother’s good heart because I see nothing good in the man sitting beside me. I’ve studied and researched men like GaryScott for the last six years of my life, and he has all the hallmark traits of a narcissistic sociopath. The best way to be with men like that is to play to their ego.

“I am having twins. But they are big for their age, is what the doctor told me, so it clearly must be the Scott genes.”

He puffs his chest out. He likes that.

“Twins, eh?” He scratches his chin, which is covered in days’ old stubble that’s speckled with gray. “There’s none of them in my family, and there were no twins in Kaden’s bitch mother’s family.”

I flinch at the tone and slur he uses about Kaden’s mom. It’s hard, knowing that the man sitting beside me is the sole reason for the pain that Kaden has endured his entire life. That he beat the life from Kaden’s mom, using his bare hands.

“I’m a twin,” I tell him in a quiet voice, not wanting this man to know any more than necessary about my family.

“He the boxer or the football player?”

So, he already knows about my family. Obviously been doing his research.

I swallow down the bile I feel rising in my throat. “Neither.”

“You’ve got another one?”

---