Then she stopped. That pebble was just a rock. It couldn’t make or keep a promise. No, Trace was the promise. Trace gave it to her to remind her to believe in him. Trace was the one who held her at night when nightmares came. Trace was the one who would tear the world apart to find her. She trusted him. Not a pebble. Him.
Silas kept driving, skidding as the truck slipped on ice-covered snow. The white blur outside made her nauseous. So she closed her eyes and prayed for Trace to find her fast.
Finally, the truck slowed, engine grinding as Silas shifted gears. He stopped at the top of a ridge, headlights piercing the storm and highlighting a spruce grove in the shallow valley below. It took a minute, but Kip recognized that grove. It was the same one Trace had brought her to find the Christmas tree. The same grove where Silas, she now realized, had tried to kill her before.
“You should have died here weeks ago,” Silas said, killing the engine. “You couldn’t even do that right. Or maybe I should blame that man of yours. But that’s okay. He’ll suffer enough when he finds what’s left of you.”
He got out, the wind rocking the truck as he slammed the door. He came around to her side, and when he yanked her door open,the cold hit her hard, stealing her breath. She screamed, but the wind carried it away.
Silas gripped her arm and yanked her out. Her shoes sank deep into the snow. He pulled her down the slope, not caring if she walked or he dragged her. She had no coat. No hat. Only her sweater, jeans, and a pair of canvas shoes against a blizzard.
He hauled her to a tall spruce tree that towered over the others. The lower branches had been trimmed, leaving the trunk bare at the base. That was when she realized this was not an act of passion. No, Silas had planned this. He had everything prepared beforehand. He pushed her against the pruned trunk. The rough bark scraped her skin, even through the loose knit of her sweater. Pulling her arms behind her, he snapped metal handcuffs onto her wrists, effectively chaining her to the tree.
She scanned along the top of the ridge, hoping to see the lights of another truck—her Daddy’s truck—because he was on his way to save her. He’d promised, and he always kept his promises. He would be here soon. She just had to stay alive until he arrived.
Unable to use her hands, she kicked out, catching him in the shin. He howled before slapping her across the face. Pain exploded in her cheek.
“You wanna play dirty? Fine by me. Let’s see how you like going barefoot in the snow.”
He knelt and yanked off her shoes. He didn’t even leave her socks on. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. What she did know was that bolts of sharp pains shot through the bottoms of her feet and toes immediately.
Silas stepped back, eyes gleaming with malice. “I was going to leave you here, but I’m thinkin’ now, I wanna watch.”
Kip pulled at the metal cuffs cutting her wrists. The wind howled louder. There was nothing she hated more than the mournful sound of that wind. He wouldn’t have to wait long. She had never been so cold in her life. Every blast of snow and windtore at her, draining her of life-giving warmth. She found herself starting to get sleepy until a growl snapped her back into reality. Low, hungry howls rose through the trees behind her. It was probably wolves, hungry from lack of game.
Silas smiled. “You might freeze, or they might find you first. Either way, I can’t wait to see it happen.” Then he turned his back on her,trudged to his truck and leaned against it. “I’ll watch from here, where it’s safe.”
Kip’s teeth chattered too hard for her to beg or curse him. The cold crawled up her legs. She struggled until it became too painful. Giving up, she closed her eyes and thought of Trace cresting the ridge and rescuing her. It would happen. It was just a matter of time.
But as time passed, her shivering became more severe, and the wolves howled louder.
CHAPTER 25
Silas leaned his shoulder against the truck and waited. It shouldn’t take long for the stupid bitch to give in to the elements. It had to be down to fifteen degrees and dropping fast. She’d better hurry the hell up. She wasn’t the only one standing out in the cold. Even with his long shearling coat, he had to fold his arms across his chest to keep from shivering. Being in a slight valley, the wind didn’t have as much impact, so the snow poured straight down now, erasing his boot prints almost as fast as he made them.
Good. Let it bury everything.
He watched Kip struggle against the chains binding her to the tree. She had no coat, no hat, no gloves. And thanks to her mouth, no shoes. Her bare feet were already turning blue in the snow. Her lips moved, whether praying or cursing him didn’t matter; neither would help her.
She looked small. Breakable. Exactly how he wanted her.
They all deserved this… all women. Every last one of them. But Princess Kip, who drifted into Wilder like she belonged and stole everything he’d worked for, everything that should have been his, she deserved it the most. She’d cost him years. She’d cost him respect. She’d cost him the life he was owed.
Well, at least he’d gotten a little bit of extra money. That was something. Maybe her death would get him even more.
So, let the cold take her. He hoped she felt every second she had stolen from him.
Over time, he lost his generous spirit. Of course, she’d draw this out. His fingers were going numb even inside his gloves. There might not be much wind, but the cold cut straight through his coat. He shifted his weight and tried not to think about how long he had been standing here. She needed to hurry the fuck up.
Trace would come. Of course, he would come. The Daniels men never left anything behind they claimed as their own. And Trace? He was the worst. The thought of what they’d do to him if they caught him made Silas’s stomach knot tighter than the cold ever could. He should get his damn rifle out of the truck. One bullet, and this would be over.
But he’d wanted her to suffer. Still did. Trace probably didn’t even know his girl was gone. He smiled at the thought. Soon, the high and mighty Trace Daniels, along with the rest of his clan, would suffer a loss. It was a favor of sorts. They needed to join the rest of the world. The real world where everyone suffered. God knows he had.
Silas jerked upright when a wolf howl rolled through the trees, low and hungry, and nearby. Then another answered, closer but more to the right. Then a third. Shit. He hadn’t thought about the wolves. Not really. Sure, he tried to scare the girl, but he hadn’t believed it himself.
The sound crept up his spine and settled behind his eyes as he scanned the tree line past the spruce. He tried to laugh, but it was too damn cold. It was fine. Wolves wanted easy prey. Chained, barefoot, half-frozen prey. Kip was the easiest prey in the county tonight.
He pushed off the truck and stepped closer, boots crunching the fresh snow. “You know no one’s coming for you, right, princess? You need to go ahead and give it up. You have to be tired of the cold. Why don’t you die already? You hear those wolves? Believe me when I tell you that dying of the cold is a hell of a lot better than what they’ll do to you.”
