“That’s not the point,” I said, my knees beginning to tremble. “You followed her. You were there.”
“I watched,” he corrected, his eyes bright. “There’s a difference, Tessa. Watching is an appreciation. Following is a chore.” He smiled—a small, private thing, like he caught me saying something he could use against me later.
“It’s fucking creepy.” I whispered. “You kidnapped me.”
“I brought you somewhere quiet, so you’d finally listen. You’ve become so loud lately. So distracted. It’s not like you,” he said as he ran his hand through his hair.
I stared at him, my hands clenching at my sides until my nails bit into my palms. I wanted to lunge and claw the calm right off his face.
“Where are my keys?”
He patted his pocket, a slow, deliberate motion. “Safe.”
“My phone.”
He patted the other pocket. “Also safe. Don't worry, Tessa. I’m looking after everything now.”
My stomach turned. A cold, oily slick of nausea rose in my throat. “Give them back, Colin. Now.”
“No.”
I took a step forward, a surge of desperate adrenaline overriding my brain. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t reach for me. He only lifted his eyebrows, his expression chillinglyneutral, like a trainer waiting for a dog to test the limits of its shock collar.
“You’re not going to hit me. Not yet.”
Not yet. The words landed with the weight of a death sentence. My skin prickled with a sudden, frantic heat.
“You’re insane,” I screamed, and my voice echoed off the mountains.
He stepped closer. I had to fight the urge to stumble back. He didn’t crowd me, but he knew how to hold space in a way that felt like a physical weight on my chest. It was a projection of ownership.
“You keep saying that,” he murmured, his breath smelling of mint and something metallic. “But you got in the truck. You drove where I told you. You did exactly what I asked. That doesn't sound like I'm the one who's lost my mind. It sounds like you've finally found yours.”
“I did it because you threatened a child!”
He made a sound that could’ve been a laugh if there had been any warmth in it. “You did it because you’re predictable. You’ve always been so easy to move, Tessa. I just needed the right leverage.”
The wind shifted, dragging dry grass against the cabin's foundation with a sound like a long, low hiss. Somewhere, a bird called once, then went abruptly silent, as if it realized it wasn't alone.
Colin nodded toward the porch. “Inside. The sun is going down, and the wind is picking up.”
My body rebelled. A heavy, sickening resistance settled in my limbs. “No. I’m not going in there.”
His gaze sharpened. The mask of gentleness slipped, just an inch, revealing the jagged edge underneath. “Tessa,” he growled. I hated the way he said my name.
“I’m not going in,” I said, forcing each word into place like a brick. “You want to talk, you can do it out here.”
He looked past me, and my heart stuttered. My brain immediately filled the empty space behind me with Maddy’s face, sunlight on her hair, backpack on as she walked home.
“I can talk anywhere,” he said, his eyes returning to mine. “But I don’t think you can. You’re going to start shaking soon. Then you’ll start begging. Then you’ll embarrass yourself in front of the trees. It’s better if we’re inside.”
I held my breath, trying to force my spine to stay straight, trying to hide the tremor in my hands. He watched the struggle with the patient eyes of a predator watching a deer tire itself out. He knew the exact moment my resolve cracked.
“You don’t want anyone hurt, right?” he added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “If you think I don’t have eyes on that little girl right now, you don’t know me as well as you thought.”
“You’re bluffing.” The words felt hollow as I forced them out.
“Can you take that chance? Can you live with being wrong?” He gestured to the door again. “Come inside and talk like an adult. Before things get... complicated.”
