“You had no right to leave me.” His voice was calm. Too calm, like they were discussing the weather.
“We’re divorced, Garrick.” Her voice shook. “Our marriage is over.”
He laughed—a low, bitter sound. “That’s just paperwork, Millie. It means nothing. You’ll always belong to me.”
He squeezed her arm tighter, and she yelped, pain shooting up to her shoulder.
Biscuit growled again, but she softened her voice as she reassured the dog.
Then she turned back to Garrick. “What are you going to do with me?”
“I’m glad you asked.” His smile widened. “I’m going to take you somewhere the two of us can be together. Forever. Somewhere no one will ever find you.”
Garrick’s grip tightened on Millie’s arm as he yanked her deeper into the woods.
The darkness grew denser around them, as did the chill in the air.
She stumbled over a root, nearly falling, but his hand kept her upright—kept her moving.
“Stop fighting me,” he said, his voice eerily calm. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.”
Biscuit darted alongside them, barking frantically, his body low and tense.
“Garrick, please—” Millie tried to pull away, but his fingers dug in harder. Pain shot up her arm. “You’re hurting me.”
“Good.” His tone was flat. “Maybe you’ll finally understand there are consequences to what you’ve put me through.”
She twisted, trying to wrench free, but he was stronger. He’d always been stronger.
“This is insane,” she gasped. “You can’t just?—”
“Can’t just what?” He stopped abruptly and spun her around to face him, his eyes wild in the fading light. “Can’t take back what’s mine? Till death do us part, remember?”
Biscuit lunged forward, snapping at Garrick’s leg.
Garrick’s free hand shot out, and he grabbed something from his waist.
A gun.
He raised it toward Biscuit.
“No!” Millie screamed. “Don’t you dare!”
A slow smile spread across his face. “There she is. The Millie I remember. The one who cares.”
He lowered the gun but didn’t put it back into his waistband. “Call off your stupid dog, or I’ll do it for you.”
Millie’s heart hammered. “Biscuit, come.”
The dog hesitated, still growling.
“Biscuit. Come here. Now.”
Reluctantly, Biscuit backed up, positioning himself between Millie and the path they’d come from. His ears were pinned back, his hackles raised.
Garrick started walking again, dragging her with him.
Panic raced through her. She couldn’t just give up. She had to do something!
