“Of course. That's what you do when you love someone.”
That was when I'd snapped. Everything hurt so bad—my feet, my back, my heart—and I just couldn't take anymore. Night after night, I'd gritted my teeth and smiled through Brant's bullshit. I'd shaken my ass in high heels when I was so tired I could barely think straight. I’d worked entire nights without even earning my house fee. I'd eaten thousands of ramen cups and PB&J sandwiches. I'd paid my bills in wadded-up singles while the bank tellers whispered and pointed at me. I'd chased Grey away forever. I'd been such a good girl for so long, and what did I have to show for it? Where had it gotten me? Trapped in a parking lot at two in the morning with a delusional moron. His big tips couldn't buy another second of my patience.
Staring Brant square in the eye, I'd snapped, “What the hell are you talking about? You don't love me. You don't even know me. And I sure as hell don't love you.”
He'd blinked several times in quick succession, as if I'd suddenly sprouted a second head. “But...I don't understand,” he'd squeaked. “What do you mean? I've always thought you were so perfect, and you're always so nice to me...”
“That's called customer service, Brant. Do you think the girl who makes your coffee wants your dick, too?” With that, I turned on my heel and left him.
Brant had just watched, stunned, as I got into my car and drove away. I didn't give a fuck. All I could think about was food, sleep...and Grey. I'd been so distracted, it was a miracle I hadn't gotten in a car wreck. I'd walked to my door and was flipping through my keys. Then a figure in the darkness, hands digging into me, a sickly sweet smell, thrashing and kicking and biting and suddenly falling, falling...
I froze, my hands buried in a mound of spare linens. Brant. Suddenly everything clicked. He must have followed me home and chloroformed me. He'd made no secret of being obsessed with me...but I had never dreamed he'd take it this far. I bit my lip, holding back a wave of tears and nausea.
Despite how close I felt to a nervous breakdown, I gave a very quiet cheer when I found my purse in the very back of the vanity's bottom drawer. I'd just assumed that Brant would confiscate all my stuff. He was either incredibly confident or incredibly stupid. I eagerly dumped out my purse on the bed and clawed through the pile. This nightmare would all be over as soon as I found my phone.
Two minutes later, my heart had sunk back into my roiling stomach. Brant had thought of taking everything vital. My phone, wallet, and keys were gone. There was only one thing I could put to any use: Grey's business card. I'd shoved it into the hidden zippered pocket of my purse, crumpling and dirtying the cardstock, unknowingly saving it from Brant's attention. I didn't even know why I'd kept it at all, at that time Grey was the last person I wanted to call.
But now he was the first person I wanted to call. If I called the police, Brant could shoot first and ask questions later—leaving me alone again, this time with a pissed-off madman. He'd already managed to overpower me once, so who knew what he was capable of? No, I needed someone with stealth as well as strength. Someone who could get in, get the job done, and get out before Brant even knew we were missing.
I memorized the contact number on the card and tucked it away again. There had to be a phone somewhere in this godforsaken house.
Just as I'd stashed my purse back in the drawer, the doorknob turned. My heart jumped into my throat. I quickly sat back on the bed and tried to look innocent.
The door cracked and Brant's beady eye peeked through. At the sight of me, he smiled and let himself in. “I see someone's awake,” he said. His tone was gently teasing, as if he'd found me sleeping late on a Sunday morning.
“Where am I?” I asked, trying not to let my voice tremble.
His cheerful expression didn't slip an inch. “Your new home.”
I repressed a scowl. Like fucking hell it is.
He strolled past me and over to the window, where he opened the blinds to reveal a fiery sunset. “My family always loved to spend summers in the mountains. They really are the best vacation spot. No WiFi signal, no phone reception, just good old-fashioned quality time.”
I screamed internally. Mountains? The nearest ranges were four hours to the east and twice as long to the west. I must have been knocked out for longer than I'd thought. More importantly, even if I managed to find my phone or steal his, it would be useless here. And he'd probably pay extra attention to the rooms with landlines. If there even were any.
Brant was still gazing out the window, admiring the vivid desert sunset. What the hell was wrong with him? His everything is totally normal act was unbelievably creepy. My heart was still pounding and the desire to get to my daughter burned like a wildfire inside me. But I had to play nice for a minute and try to get some information from this psycho.