They were both pissed — for their own reasons. Bryson tried to calm down, but he couldn’t. There was too much left up in the air. He felt vulnerable, helpless.
He slammed the phone down on his seat, nearly smashing it. Not wise. If she could call him, he needed to be available. He only hoped he wasn’t speeding away from her as he rushed toward her house.
No matter where he had to go, or what he had to do, he would find her before this night was over, he vowed as he raced down the freeway. One way or another, she was coming home — even if Jesse ended up in a body bag. To think she could be in one too wasn’t acceptable, and he thrust that grim thought from his mind.
Turning his emotions off, he prepared to do whatever it took to find Misty. Because he would die before letting her go.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Some guy with a jackhammer was hard at work inside Misty’s head. What the heck? It took her several moments to orient herself and to remember.
She’d paid the cab driver, walked into her house…
Panic set in when she recalled the body on the floor. And then someone had grabbed her, drugged her. Where was she now? The room was dark, with only minimal light sneaking in beneath the door. Was she alone?
As she sat up slowly on the putrid-smelling bed, her hand landed in something sticky and wet. She shook as she yanked the hand away and wiped whatever it was off onto another section of the uncovered mattress. Her stomach heaved and she tried to plug her nose. Hearing a scratching in the wall, she felt herself freeze.
Was that rats or mice? Fear was threatening to consume her, especially since the lighting was so poor. Where was she? It seemed to be an abandoned building of some sort, somewhere now inhabited by rodents and bugs. As if her situation weren’t bad enough, she had to fight vermin, too. Not that she wasn’t dealing with a human form of vermin…
Forcing herself not to succumb to panic, and not to shed futile tears, she attempted to look around, and to make her breathing calm down. Creeping quietly over to the window, she looked out, but she couldn’t see anything through the dirt-encrusted panes.
Don’t freak out, she reminded herself. Easier said than done. She had no idea where she was — but she had a pretty good idea of who’d brought her there.
Her fears had come to life, just when she’d started to feel more secure. She’d been so afraid that exactly this might happen, and now it was real, now she had to fight to survive. And she had to do it alone.
Did Bryson even know? Or, more like it, would he care? After their stupid, petty fight, maybe he wouldn’t bother to check on her. Okay, she knew he was a professional, and he wouldn’t let his probable disgust with her petulance stop him from attempting a rescue, but how would he even know where to look?
When would he check on her again to even learn she was missing? It might take several days before he tried to find her. Why had she had to get so upset with him? Yes, he’d been wrong in surreptitiously having her DNA tested, but it wasn’t worth this. It wasn’t worth her now being all alone with Jesse in what had to be the middle of nowhere.
It seemed hopeless. So freaking hopeless. But NO. She would not cave in to her fears. She couldn’t!
What she needed to focus on was escape. She attempted to open the window, but to no avail. It was nailed shut, or glued shut, or it just hadn’t been used in so long that it was never going to open again without a crowbar.
Taking a deep breath, she thought about her options. She refused to just roll over. She’d never, ever been a quitter. She’d grown up in the most awful of circumstances, and she’d managed to survive this long on her own. She would continue relying on herself — the one person who hadn’t failed her.
Her phone!
Please be there, she screamed in her still-pounding head, and she reached inside her bra and found the small device. Her years on the street had taught her lessons that she still carried with her now, and one of those lessons was not to leave something you didn’t want to lose in obvious places.
Holding her breath now as she stared at the door, she pulled out her phone and flipped it open. One bar of reception, and only a single bar of battery life. It was enough…she hoped.
She didn’t even think about calling 911. Instead, she dialed the one person she truly did trust, no matter what had been said — Bryson. When the phone began ringing, she heard the doorknob rattle on her room, and she fought down the stomach-roiling nausea. Now was not the time to vomit.
Quickly turning the incoming voice volume of the phone way down, she hid the device inside a hole she’d found in the pillow on the small cot, she prayed it wouldn’t disconnect, prayed Jesse wouldn’t hear it, and prayed even harder that Bryson would be able to trace the call. Then she moved to the other side of the door and waited for it to creak open.
If she could get the jump on him, she would have half a chance.
There was no other plan than that. She knew she wasn’t going to just lie on the bed and wait for him to rape her…and then take her life when he was done playing.
“Miiissstttyyy,” Jesse called in a singsong voice as the door opened fully and light spilled into the room. It took a couple of seconds for her eyes to adjust to the new brightness. “What the hell?” he snarled as he stepped inside, moving toward the bed.
It was now or never.
Moving with a speed born of desperation, Misty slid out the door and ran for her life.
“Get back here,” he bellowed, whirling around and following her in close pursuit.
She made it to the living room. Yes, they were in a house, one that looked as if it was either condemned or needed to be. Grime covered every surface and the furnishings were sparse. From there she dashed to the kitchen, where she turned in a circle so she could try to get her bearings, and found herself looking into the cold, calculating eyes of her former abuser.
There was no door in this room. She’d made a wrong turn. Don’t panic. There has to be a door. You just didn’t see it.
“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up. I thought about climbing on and taking a ride with you knocked out, but that wouldn’t be any fun, would it? I want to hear you scream. You know how it turns me on.” Jesse spat on the floor as he sauntered into the room, looking as if he had all the time in the world for his little cat-and-mouse game.
Though her heart was nearly exploding inside her chest, and the blood felt frozen in her veins, she tried to hold it together. She absolutely could not show weakness or it would cost her something more important than just her life — it would cost everything she’d worked so hard to build since she’d escaped him.