I bite my lip until the skin splits. He wants me to answer. He wants me to break my vow of silence.
Jackson doesn’t let up.
“And those two girls… they’ll still die—they know too much. You just won’t be there to see it. And you’ll never know when. That’s the worst part, isn’t it? You’ll picture it every night. Them screaming. Them dying. And you’ll wonder if it happened already. Or if it’s happening right then. While you’re locked in a room, praying your sheriff still cares.”
I squeeze my hands into fists in my lap, nails carving crescents into my palms. I don’t want to imagine it, but I do. Constance’s big eyes, wide with terror. Adelaide’s hair yanked, her throat cut open while I sit here useless. My stomach twists so hard I gag.
The man beside me laughs under his breath.
Jackson keeps going, unhurried.
“Thing is, you think you made a sacrifice,” he hums, his tone soft as he reaches to stroke a hand over my shoulder. “That’s sweet. That’s noble. But you don’t get to make noble choices in my world. Every choice is a trap. A leash. And you just put the collar on yourself.”
I don’t answer, don’t shrug him away, I just stare at my reflection in the window — pale skin, hair falling in my face, eyes hollow. A woman I almost don’t recognize. A woman Jacob promised he’d protect.
Jacob.
He’ll come. He’ll come. He’ll come.
The mantra stutters now, tripping over itself. Jackson’s voice gnaws at the edges.
“You think Jacob’s strong?” he asks suddenly, like he’s plucked the thought right out of me. “That uniform makes him something more than a man? It doesn’t. He’s just meat with a badge. And meat rots.”
“Shut up.”
The words rip out before I can stop them. Small. Shaky. But they’re there.
Jackson laughs softly, the sound like broken glass underfoot.
“There she is,” he murmurs. “I was waiting for her.”
His hand moves fast. Fingers tighten on my shoulder as he pulls me, forcing me to face him. His eyes burn blue in the dim light, bright as the flame he wants me to walk into.
“Don’t tell me to shut up,” he says, low and rough. “Not unless you want to lose your tongue.”
My lungs claw for air. My jaw aches under his grip. But I don’t look away. If I look away, I lose.
He shoves me back against the seat. My skull cracks against the window, stars bursting in my vision. The others laugh. My throat burns. My eyes sting. I force the tears back.
And Jackson leans away, satisfied. He lights a cigarette like he didn’t just crush me in his hand. Smoke swirls, thick and choking, filling the SUV until every breath tastes like ash.
“Jacob will find me.” My voice is raw, hoarse. But steady.
Jackson exhales smoke toward the roof, lazy and amused.
“Jacob willdietrying.” He laughs. “You know what the best part is?” His voice is a snake winding closer. “You’ll hate me. You’ll fight me. And then, piece by piece, you’ll need me. You’ll beg for my attention. My approval. My touch. That’s how this works. That’s how Jacob did it, right?”
My mouth floods with bile. I swallow it back, choking on it.
“Once I’ve broken you,” Jackson breathes, “you won’t remember he ever existed.”
Headlights sweep across corrugated steel. Not a home. Not even a ruin. A warehouse. A place built to store cargo, not people. And yet it’s waiting for me like a coffin with its lid already half-open.
The engine dies. And the driver steps out. He slams his door and comes to open ours. Child-locked I presume, designed to stop me from trying to escape. But I wasn’t stupid enough to even try. The cold night air pours in before I can brace for it. A hand fists around my bicep and yanks me out into the gravel. My knees hitjagged stone, skin tearing through thin fabric. I don’t make a sound. Not because it doesn’t hurt, but because I won’t give them my pain.
The warehouse looms closer with every drag of their hands on my arms. Its steel siding is new—too new. I catch it in the light, panels without rust, bolts that still gleam. Fresh padlocks on the side doors.
The main entrance yawns open with a groan, metal on metal. A stench rushes out—bleach and sweat and something underneath both, sour and alive. My stomach rolls, bile working its way up my throat, leaving me no choice but to throw up into the gravel. Donnie and Vince laugh at me, but Jackson hands me a handkerchief. I wipe my mouth with it, then throw it back at him, hitting his chest before he catches it— stopping it from landing in the dirt.
