Carefully, I scooted down in the bed and rolled over, pulling the sheet up over me. After a minute, I felt the bedsprings shift.

“That’s it?” he said, and I knew I’d surprised him.

It wasn’t hard to sound tired. “We can talk about it tomorrow.”

He chuckled softly. “Are you shutting me out like we’re an old married couple? Should I go sleep on the couch?”

I ignored him, snuggling deeper against the pillow and tugging the sheet up to my chin.

He muttered something I couldn’t understand. The bed dipped, and then I heard his steady footfalls creaking the wood across the floor. He reached the small bathroom where he’d grabbed me earlier—and gone down on me.

The door closed.

A squeak and shudder as the shower turned on.

He’d already taken a shower—we both had—but he’d seemed agitated. Just like he had at the diner when he’d left me inside. His past was his vulnerability, an Achilles heel on a body otherwise flush with armor. Even thinking about it, talking about it, made him need to be alone. He left me alone.

Last time I had made a run for it and it hadn’t worked out, because the people were too afraid of Hunter and whatever retribution he might hold for them. Would James and Laura be scared of him too? No, they seemed completely unafraid, but that was because they didn’t know what he’d done to me—what he was truly capable of. They had more to lose, considering Billy.

I didn’t believe Hunter would take retribution on Billy or any of them. But it was a gamble and for once, the stakes weren’t only my life.

It isn’t muscles that make you strong. It’s how much you want it.

I threw back the sheet and stood, glancing wildly around the room for something to knock him out…or lock him in. A couple of wooden dining room chairs were piled in the corner of the room. Out of place in a bedroom but most likely kept in the basement for storage. I hooked one under the doorknob, hoping he didn’t hear the thump over the water, praying it would hold.

The shower kept running, so I tugged my dress over my head, covering my panties and tank top. My heartbeat thudded in my ears. Like before, there was a moment of doubt: was I doing the right thing? Maybe I could have reasoned with him. But like before, it was too late. I had crossed the Rubicon. I was committed.

I climbed the stairs and emerged in the darkened hallway. I crept into the living room, scanning the side tables for a phone to call the police. Nothing. Creeping along the walls, I moved toward the kitchen. Walking through the darkened doorway, I ran into a warm chest. My scream came out muffled.

“Hunter?” I breathed.

“Evie?” It was James. “Are you okay?”

“Oh God,” I groaned, slumped back against the wall. The kitchen light flickered on, blinding me for a moment.

James stood there in his robe, holding a glass of water. “Are you okay?” he repeated. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I would have to tell James. I had hoped to avoid this part, even though they would certainly have found out when sirens pulled up outside their house. Maybe it was better to give him a warning. Was there etiquette for escaping from a kidnapper inside someone else’s house?

My mouth opened, mute against painful, confusing words about a man I’d come to care about. God, it was true. I did care about Hunter. There were very few people in this world who had ever bothered about me, and between him and my mother, he was preferable.

Pitiful.

“I—I’ve been k-k-kidnapped,” I said.

He stared at me. “What?”

“I’ve been k-kidnapped. B-by Hunter.” Deep breath. “He kidnapped me two weeks ago and has been k-k-keeping me in his truck with him. I need to c-c-call the police.”

He stared at me intently and then ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up at odd angles and adding a comical edge to the situation. Or maybe that was just my hysteria.

“Please tell me you’re sleeping,” he finally said. “This is some sort of waking dream or…something. I don’t know. Jesus.”

A tear fell down my cheek. “P-p-please help me.”

“Okay,” he said. “Just calm down a minute. We’ll sort this out. Where’s Hunter right now?”

“No, you c-c-can’t talk to him.” Panic bubbled up, not just for me but for James. I didn’t really believe that Hunter would hurt these people, but I didn’t want to throw the dice if I could help it. I tried to reason with him. “P-p-please, let’s just c-call them. I swear I’m t-telling the truth, and if I’m not, they’ll figure it out anyway. Please.”

He stared at me, sorrow creeping over the bewilderment in his eyes. “You’re serious.”

I nodded.

“Jesus.” He ran a hand through his hair again. “Okay, go ahead and sit down. I’ll call the cops.”

I sank into the chair while he went to the phone. He’d already dialed when Laura appeared at the door.

“What’s going on?” Her eyes were wide, frightened. Either she’d heard the tenor of our voices or just smelled the fear in the air. It was something I’d learned in my time with Hunter, that fear had a primal scent, a universal sign to get out while you still could. That was what the workers at the diner had done. You’re on your own, they’d said, thus saving their own behinds, and I couldn’t blame them. But there were people like James who didn’t think twice about trying to help me when he realized I was in trouble.

People like Laura.

James kept running his hand over his face, through his hair. It was a nervous gesture on repeat.

He spoke into the phone lowly. “Yes, I have an emergency. There’s a girl here. She’s in trouble. It’s at my house. She’s been kidnapped.”

Laura gasped, her gaze darting between me and James. I could almost see the switch flipping inside her, from sweet country woman to mama bear. She marched over to me.

“By us? Is that what you’re telling them? Explain this to me.”

“Hunter,” I whispered. Dread settled in my gut. It couldn’t have been that easy.

“Kidnapped,” she said flatly. Then louder. “You want us to believe he kidnapped you, when we all saw you walk in this house of your own free will?”

“What was I supposed t-t-to d-d-do,” I cried, silently cursing my stutter. “Run d-down the road in the middle of nowhere? My c-c-car is back in the motel where he t-took me.”

I hated that I couldn’t explain myself better, more clearly, but I was too agitated to form the words clearly. You could speak just fine with Hunter, an inner voice taunted. As if I trusted him. I hated that I trusted him.

Laura pulled the phone away from a startled James and slammed down the receiver. For a moment, no one spoke, and the room was alight with the sound of our heavy, fearful breaths.

“Laura,” James said softly. “If she’s telling the truth…”

“No.”

“We have to at least help her. If she’s lying, they’ll find out.”

“After he’s been dragged to a jail in handcuffs. Someone with a prison record. They aren’t going to give him the benefit of the doubt. Are you going to be responsible for that?”

His hand ran over his face, through his hair. “If she’s telling the truth…”

“She’s not. Hunter would never—“ Her voice cracked.

“Look, I have a hard time believing it too, but he never was the same after he got out. You know that. And I have no reason not to believe her.”

We were silent. I stared at them, feeling myself tremble but curiously detached. It was always easier to let someone else decide my fate. I’d certainly had enough practice.

The phone rang.

Laura picked it up. “Hello? No, I’m sorry, that was a misunderstanding. He thought I was in trouble, but I’m fine.” A few more answers and she hung up. “They’re going to send a squad car by in the morning to check up on us.”

James’s hands finally stilled at his side. “Laura. If she’s telling the truth, we have to help her.”