I'll watch from the shadows, as I've always done. I'll make sure she's safe, even if she doesn't want me near her. I'll give her the freedom she asked for.
Even if it kills me.
Even if every second she's gone feels like I’m slowly bleeding out.
I put the car in reverse and drive away from the cabin—away from the only place she's ever been truly mine.
Chapter Sixteen
Bianca
He's goingto lose his mind when he finds out, and I know it.
I'm sitting in a roadside diner, and my hands are shaking. Thankfully, this is one of those places where people don't question you when you walk in looking a little out of place.
I've been planning this for a couple of days now. I got the brilliant idea that if he thought I was still injured, he wouldn't think I could escape. So I pretended. I pretended it hurt more than it actually did. I pretended I was wobbly and unstable.
I pretended I hadn't found the phone where he'd locked it up.
I was smart enough not to use it at first. But then, when he left, I went right to work. He didn’t know I’ve beenwatching him. I saw where he put my phone. I watched as he put in the password, and I bided my time.
At first, my fingers hovered over the screen to text Marcus. You'd think someone being held captive would, at the first chance, contact people who could save them.
But… no.
Maybe Ashland's words have been getting in my head, and I can't get them out.
Marcus killed two women before you.
How would he be able to hide something like that? Ashland is either crazy, or…
I shake my head and sip the now-tepid coffee.
Then I texted Marcus anyway, despite every instinct telling me to wait, to think, tolistento the warning bells going off in my head. I texted him and told him where I was.
And now Marcus is on his way.
Now that my thumb isn't hovering over the send button anymore, now that it's done and I can't take it back, doubt creeps in cold and heavy.
What if Ashland was telling the truth?
Now I have to face Marcus, and I… I don't want to.
Shouldn't I be looking forward to seeing the man I'll be married to? Shouldn't Iwantto tell him the truth about everything?
Shouldn't I want to be… rescued by him?
But Marcus really isn’t the rescuing type—he’s the type who pays someone to do it for him.
All I can think about while I sit in this diner, tapping the vinyl tabletop with my finger, is whether or not Ashland's discovered that I left yet.
When the doorbell jingles, I look up, half expecting to see furious silver eyes zeroing in on me.
But no.
Ashland doesn't come.
He's your kidnapper, Bianca.
