Penelope
Cold seeps into my bones before I even open my eyes. My teeth chatter, my body shivering against the damp mattress beneath me. The smell of mildew and smoke fills my nose, thick and suffocating. My head pounds, every pulse a hammer.
I try to move but ropes bite into my wrists. Panic claws at my throat. My hands are tied above me, raw from struggling. My legs are heavy, useless.
The flicker of a bare bulb overhead throws shadows that crawl across the filthy cabin walls. I blink hard, trying to clear my vision, but the only thing I see is emptiness. No phone. No bag. No one who can hear me scream.
Cas.His name is the only thing keeping me from drowning. If I can just hold on, if I can just stay alive long enough, he’ll find me. He has to.
The floor creaks. A door opens. My stomach lurches.
Mark steps inside. The mask is pushed up now, revealing his twisted grin, his eyes wild and fevered.
“Pretty little whore,” he mutters, voice thick and ugly. “Miss me?”
I flinch as he moves closer, my breath coming in shallow gasps. His fingers curl into my blouse, fabric tearing with a violent rip. The sound rips through me. I choke on a sob, thrashing, fighting against the ropes even as they cut into my skin.
“No!” My voice cracks. “Don’t! Don’t touch me!”
He laughs and hits me in the face. The smell of stale beer clings to his breath as he leans in. Tears sting my eyes. My cheek hurts, and I know my lip just split. My chest heaves, frantic, desperate. Fear is everywhere, in my lungs, in my blood, in my bones.
“Mark, don’t do this, please,” I beg, but the look in his eyes is one I know too well as he starts to punch me in the stomach. I scream as I hear a crack.
Cas, please. Please find me.
Then he starts to lower the zipper on my skirt, and I start to cry, one last scream filling the room as another blow lands on my eye.
“Shut up, bitch!”
???
Casper
Hours crawl by, and there’s still no sign of the car or Penny. I’m at my parents’B&B, clutching her sweater like it’s oxygen, pressing it to my face just to feel something of her, anything. It smells faintly of peaches and vanilla, but the scent is fading. My chest aches. My hands tremble. Every tick of the old clock on the wall is another needle in my spine. Every second without her is torture.
“Son.” My father’s voice cuts through the haze, low but steady. He’s at the window beside me, broad shoulders squared, his own eyes rimmed red. It’s three in the morning. None of us have slept. Phones keep ringing in the other room, people in town desperate for news, offering tips, or just praying.
“She’s out there suffering… going through who knows what, Dad.” My throat closes on the words.“It kills me to know she’s somewhere, alone, and I can’t reach her.” My voice breaks. A tear slides hot down my cheek.
My father pulls me in without hesitation, his arms solid, his scent of cedar and coffee grounding me.“I know, son. I know. But we’re not giving up. Not now, not ever.” His voice is like iron under velvet. I clutch him back, gripping the fabric of his shirt.
He leans back, eyes locking with mine.“Penny’s strong. She knows her enemy. She’s got something worth fighting for. She won’t go down without a fight. And neither will we.” There’s no doubt in his gaze, only fire.
Two hours drag like a lifetime. I pace the room, jaw clenched, heart hammering so hard it makes my ribs ache. I glance at my watch. Five A.M. She’s been gone five hours. The urge to set the whole state on fire to find her claws up my throat.
“Cas?” My mother’s voice calls from the kitchen, gentle but firm. I stumble in, still trembling. She hands me a mug. The steam curls up, bitter coffee and cinnamon, but my hands shake too hard to drink.“Here. You need to stay alert.”
“What if I don’t find her?” My whisper is a confession, the fear of losing her, never feeling her lips again, making my blood run ice-cold.
“I didn’t raise quitters,” she says, voice steady as stone.“Use that fear. Turn it into fuel. Knock on every door, call on every person, confront every obstacle. Find her.”
Her words anchor me. I nod, swallowing hard, and hug her briefly before turning toward the door. Did I call everyone? Check every lead?“Dex! Ethan! Jude!” I bark, snatching up my coat and keys.
Dex catches up instantly, Ethan and Jude right behind him.“You find something?” Dex asks, his eyes already sharp.
“Old man Carlson,” I say, sliding behind the wheel. The engine roars as my foot slams the gas.
Dex frowns.“What about him?”
