Christopher looked at Logan, seeing the same understanding in the older man’s eyes.
“We’ve got him,” Christopher said.
And somewhere ahead of them in the darkness, two little girls were waiting to be rescued.
Christopher was coming for them.
And nothing was going to stop him.
18
MADDY
Maddy sat in the back seat of the rental car, her hand clasped tightly in Trinity’s. They’d been driving for about twenty minutes now, leaving St. Augustine behind and heading into areas that got progressively darker and more isolated. Her father hadn’t tied their hands or anything dramatic like that, but he’d warned them not to try anything stupid when he’d shoved them into the car at the storage facility where he’d taken them after hitting Jane on the beach.
Trinity kept squeezing her hand in a pattern. Three quick squeezes, pause, three more. Maddy squeezed back the same way. It was something they’d seen in a movie once, a way to say “I’m here” and “we’ll be okay” without words. Both of them were scared, but they were trying so hard to be brave for each other.
The car finally slowed and turned onto a dirt road that was barely more than two tracks through the trees. Branchesscraped against the sides of the vehicle, and Maddy could see a small cabin appearing through the darkness ahead.
Dark. Isolated. No other houses visible anywhere.
Her stomach clenched with fear, but she pushed it down. Mom always said she was strong. Time to prove it.
Todd pulled up in front of the cabin and killed the engine. He got out and opened the back door, his face hard in the dim interior light. “Get out. And don’t try running. There’s nowhere to go out here. Just woods for miles and animals that will probably eat you.”
Maddy climbed out first, and as her feet hit the ground, she looked at the man who was supposed to be her father. The man whose DNA she carried but who’d never been anything to her except a source of pain for her mother.
She felt nothing but contempt.
“You know what?” Maddy said, her voice steadier than she felt. “I’m glad you left us. I’m grateful I never had to grow up with you.”
Todd’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm roughly. “Watch your mouth, kid.”
Maddy jerked away from him with more force than she knew she had. “Don’t touch me. You have no right to touch me. You’re not my father. You’re just the man who abandoned my mom when sheneeded you most.”
“Yeah,” Trinity added, stepping up beside Maddy in solidarity. “And you picked on the wrong girls. You have no idea who Uncle Christopher is or who my father is.”
Todd actually laughed, the sound harsh and mocking. “Boy Scouts? I’m supposed to be scared of some guy who helps your mom cook?” He shook his head. “Please. Give me a break.”
“Oh, they’re not Boy Scouts,” Maddy assured him, and she let something dangerous creep into her twelve-year-old voice. Something she’d learned from watching her mother face down difficult customers and impossible situations with nothing but determination and courage.
Trinity opened her mouth, clearly about to explain exactly who Gabe Bennett and Christopher White were, but Maddy caught her eye and shook her head slightly.
“Let him find out the hard way,” Maddy said quietly.
Understanding dawned in Trinity’s expression, and she nodded. It would be better if Todd underestimated Christopher and Trinity’s father. Made it easier for them to mount a rescue. And Maddy had absolutely no doubt that they were coming.
“Just shut up and get inside,” Todd snapped, shoving them both toward the cabin door. He fumbled with the keys, unlocked it, and pushed the door open. The interior was small and dusty, clearly a rental that hadn’t been used in a while. One main room with a tiny kitchenette along one wall. A door that probably led to a bedroom. Another door that was likely a bathroom.
Todd threw a plastic bag at them, and it landed on a small table with a thud. “Here. Food.”
Maddy looked in the bag and felt fresh disgust rise in her throat. Candy bars. Bags of chips. Cans of soda. She looked at Todd with all the contempt a twelve-year-old could muster, which turned out to be quite a lot.
“Aren’t you supposed to be a chef?” She slammed the bag back on the table. “This isn’t food. It’s diabetes in a bag.”
Todd’s face flushed red with anger. “Shut up. Be grateful I got you anything to eat or drink at all.” He was pacing now, checking his phone constantly. Clearly nervous about something.
“You know what I’m grateful for?” Maddy said, and her voice came out cold. Like her mother’s voice when she was truly angry. “That I didn’t have to grow up with you as my father. You’re a disgrace and a loser.”
