Page 76 of Taking

Throat tight, I stared across the frozen land, at the tracks leading away through the trees toward the main road. He’d abandoned me out in the middle of the wilderness.

My stomach roiled, and I swallowed rising bile. Head fuzzy. Body achy…

He had drugged me again…the jackass fucking drugged me!

Spinning, I breathed hard through my nose to keep from spewing, clutching the blanket around me.

Gideon Destil had finally gotten me to ride his dick like he’d talked about while we were teens, he’d tasted my ass—he’d taken his revenge on me.

I melted to the floor, fighting against the sobs wanting to rip from my chest. Never had I felt more broken or hollower. As though the world pressed down on my shoulders, I sank sideways, curled up in a ball. Eyes wide and staring at the cold fireplace.

Alone…

Or had he left me for Lloyd’s taking?

A shiver slid up my spine, raising the hairs on my nape.

I need to get out of here.

But my heart sat heavy in my chest, weighing me down. I couldn’t move. Didn’t want to. His departure fractured the deepest parts of me, and even though my mind screamed for me to get dressed and get the fuck down the road toward civilization, my body refused to rouse from its stupor.

Let Lloyd show up. Let him have his way with me.

Living without Gideon wouldn’t be worth the effort. What did I care if Lloyd ended up with Mother’s money, my inheritance? What was having the means to live comfortably worth if I couldn’t do it with my other half beside me?

Tears slid down my face, and I didn’t bother stopping them. Gideon was my other half. He understood me, gave me what I needed to feel alive. Made me think that perhaps I wasn’t so sick after all.

How could he not feel the same? How could he deny the bond between us, drug me a second time, and simply take off?

Why hadn’t he laughed in my face? Soaked in my horror as I learned the truth of his revenge against me?

It didn’t make sense.

But neither did the lack of expression on his face over watching Devon’s father being led from his house in handcuffs.

Didn’t he experience emotion beyond anger and lust? Was he incapable of anything more? Having Lloyd as a father, he could certainly be broken, but I thought he had let me in.

He’d asked me to trust him in the car the day before. Maybe he really did have something planned he couldn’t share with me.

Grabbing hold of the thought and clinging tight, I pushed up to sit, slouched and shivering in the cold.

Fire.

I needed heat or I would freeze to death in the Alaskan wilderness. Gideon would hate me if he’d been telling the truth and I’d been too burdened by hurt and depression to survive until his return.

Wiping my wet cheeks on the blanket, I half-crawled to the fireplace, grasping that tiny spark of hope in my chest.

A few glowing chunks of burned-down wood remained, flaring to life a little as I used the poker to stir them. I grabbed a few pieces of kindling from the bucket, laid them atop, and gently blew on the base as I’d seen Gideon do every morning before we’d gone to Anchorage.

Glowing red embers soon caught into flame, tiny flickers of yellow and orange crackling at the small pieces of wood. Warmth caressed my face, and I huddled close, soaking in the comfort of not feeling so alone.

The heat grew, and I stacked a couple split logs atop.

Flames licked higher, and I stared from a greater distance, still trying to wake fully from the drugs. Still shivering.

Why had he drugged me?

I frowned, puzzling on why he’d do such a thing. Had he known I would argue at being left behind? Did he go somewhere dangerous, some place he might get caught and was trying to keep me from harm?

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