Page 72 of Zeke

He waits almost ten minutes until we see Country drive past again on his way back to the bakery, probably to check on Julia. Once he’s out of sight, Steve mumbles, “Good,” and pulls the car out onto the main road. He drives us away from the bakery and toward the edge of town.

I look over at the man beside me. He’s about my dad’s age and was always a bit weird, but I never thought he’d be dangerous. I don’t know why he’s taking me like this, or where he’s taking me.

“Where are we going?” I ask, my voice shaking.

“Shut up,” Steve says far too loudly and abruptly, and I jump. “You don’t get to talk, young lady.”

“But I—”

“Uh-uh-uh!” he says like he’s scolding me, but the addition of the gun pointing at me from the driver’s seat makes the sound much more sinister. “What did I say? You don’t get to ignore me and then talk back to me.”

Ignore him?

Oh, my God.

“You sent the flowers?” I ask, realizing Steve somehow had gotten the wrong idea from me being friendly at the bakery and had decided I somehow owed him something.

I need to contact Zeke, or Eli, or anyone. I need them to know where I am and who they need to look for. I reach into my pocket and try to grab my phone without Steve noticing, but he looks over and catches me. He grabs the phone and puts it into his pocket on the opposite side of me.

“I don’t think so, girlie,” he says, once again using a voice that sounds sinister in how calmly he’s scolding me, like he has a right to tell me what to do. Even worse, he glances at me and licks his lips as he looks up and down my body. I feel sick to my stomach in seconds. “You’ve been a very bad girl. Not only have you been ignoring me, but you’ve been hanging around with that biker trash. Is that who you were going to try to call? Those filthy lowlifes? You will never talk to them again. You will be good and obedient for me. Do you understand?”

This gets more and more frightening. He thinks I’m his—his to tell what to do, his to do what he wants with, his to forbid to see anyone he doesn’t approve of.

How the hell did this happen?

“You can’t tell me—”

“You don’t get to speak,” he snaps, his eyes turning to me in anger. His expression plus the muzzle of the gun pointing at me silence me in a way the words alone couldn’t do. “Good girl.”

I want to throw up. Zeke used those exact words last night in bed, and I’d been thrilled by them. They’d brought me to a new level of ecstasy. But those same words in this context from Steve’s mouth send me into a panic I managed to avoid up until now.

I’m terrified to speak, not knowing what he might do if I disobey him again. So, I settle into silence, watching carefully as we drive, taking note of every single turn, every detour, every back road. If—when—I get my phone back from Steve, I need to be able to tell Zeke how to find me.

We drive for nearly an hour, almost circling the town, like he’s trying to confuse me or, more likely, trying to make sure we don’t have a tail, which I have been desperately hoping for. Every time I look back, no one is there, and the longer he drives, the less hopeful I am that someone followed us.

Eventually, Steve seems to decide it’s safe for him to go to wherever he’s taking me because he drives with purpose again. Another fifteen minutes go by as I try to keep track of twists and turns through the woods, but eventually, I lose my bearings and no longer have any idea where we are or where we’ve been.

The woods grow thick as we drive deeper into them, and finally, we come upon this tiny little cabin in a small clearing. Steve pulls the car around the back, hiding it from the road, and stops the engine.

“You’re not going to do anything stupid like try to run, are you?” he asks.

I shake my head no. I’m not one to back down from something that scares me, but I’m also not an idiot. I know who would win between me and a bullet, and I have no idea if Steve is a good shot at all. I don’t plan to bet my life on my ability to outrun his aim.

“Good girl,” he says, and my skin crawls again. I wish he’d stop saying that. All I can do is think about Zeke and how he has no idea where I am. I hope Julia remembers enough about Steve to tell my dad and the Kings that he has me so they can try to find him.

And that they can figure out where he is, assuming this cabin is connected to him by some kind of paper trail.

He gets out of the car and walks around to my side, where I sit patiently, waiting for him to fetch me, not wanting to give him any reason to be upset with me and hurt me.

“Get out,” he says when he opens the door, using the gun to motion where he wants me to go. I climb out and walk in front of him to the door, which he unlocks and opens before shoving me inside the cabin’s dark interior.

He closes the door behind us, throwing me into total darkness before I hear him shuffle around me. Within seconds, a dim light floods the one-room house. In one corner is a bed, which looks like it has seen better days. Probably used for hunting trips Steve took out here at some point. There’s also a small kitchen, and the array of carving tools confirms what I assumed the cabin is for.

At least, I hope that’s why he has those things.

Steve grabs me by the hair, and for the first time, I’m not scared, I’m terrified. He drags me toward the bed as I hold on to his hands to prevent him from hurting me while he pulls me along. He throws me without mercy onto the mattress, where I turn to face him, wanting to see whatever he’ll do next.

I’m suddenly very aware of the fact I’m alone here with someone clearly unbalanced. I don’t have my dad. I don’t have my friends. I don’t have Zeke, Eli, Eden, Country, or anyone else who was protecting me from exactly this scenario. It’s just me and a lunatic who thinks he has any say in who I spend my time with because he has some misguided sense of ownership over me.

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