“And you?”
“What about me?”
“What will you do?”
“Whatever it takes to keep you safe,” he said.“To make sure no one ever hurts you again.”
ChapterEleven
Henry
The walk to the old barn took just under an hour if I didn’t push the pace.
I could have taken the ATV and been there in ten minutes.
But I needed the walk, even if my ankle still throbbed slightly.A walk would do me good.
The night air cut clean through me, heavy with the scent of pine and damp earth.The only sounds were an occasional hoot from an owl and my boots crunching on sticks and dried leaves.Everything else was peaceful.The kind of quiet that settled into my bones and made me feel like the world had stopped turning.It helped me think.
I kept replaying the conversation I’d had with Ariana during dinner.The way her eyes lit up with hope when she asked if she could leave.
It caught me off guard.I’d assumed once she knew the truth about what Victor had done, she’d understand.That she’d feel safer with me.
But that question had landed like a blade between my ribs.
I wanted to protect her.
But a darker part of me wanted to keep her.
The last of the lights from the house vanished behind a row of trees, leaving me in relative darkness, apart from the moon.But I didn’t need it to light the way.I knew every inch of this property.I’d spent hours walking the two-thousand-plus acres of forest, pasture, and hunting ground.Memorized every tree.Every bush.Every path.
Like my father taught me all those years ago during survival training.
After walking a few more miles with nothing but my thoughts to occupy myself, the barn came into view, a gray shape against the darkened sky.I approached the reinforced door and ran my thumb over the biometric scanner.The soft click of the lock disengaging echoed in the quiet.The door groaned when I pulled it open, the smell hitting me the second I stepped inside.Cold air, metal, and disinfectant.Beneath it, something older that soaked too deep into the concrete to ever wash away.
The previous owner had used this building to process game.I’d meant to convert it to something useful.I never got around to it.
Now I was glad I hadn’t.
It was perfect for what I needed tonight.Remote.Sterile.Soundproof.
And already equipped with chains.
I closed the door behind me, then rounded the corner.
Doctor Wilson Schaffer was right where Blake said he’d be.Barefoot on the concrete, wrists suspended from chains bolted to the ceiling.A single floodlight burned down from above, bleaching his skin white and casting long shadows across the floor.
When Blake eagerly agreed to bring Schaffer to me so I could ask some questions, I thought it would take a few days for him to complete his task.Then again, Blake worked with the efficiency of a trained soldier.Once he had his orders, he completed his mission.
My boots echoed on the concrete as I walked toward Schaffer, but he didn’t react.His head lolled forward, a dark bruise spreading along his temple from where Blake most likely had introduced him to the butt of his gun.
I studied him for a moment.The sweat-stained shirt.The sagging belly pressing against the fabric.The bald spot he tried to hide with a really bad combover.
Then I drove my fist into his ribs.
He woke with a choked cry, his eyes snapping open, panic flaring as he took in the chains, the light, the space.
“Morning, doc.Or, I guess I should say, ‘Evening.’”
