Dead Right (Stillwater Trilogy #3)(94)
Author: Brenda Novak

She’ll pay for this…

Was he waiting for her to make a move? To reveal herself?

God help me. She was shaking so badly she was afraid she’d collapse. She wasn’t sure what was keeping her upright. Her feet didn’t want to support her weight, but the wall helped, and she knew collapsing was not an option. If her strength gave out on her, she’d be dead—or maybe she’d just wish she was.

A rustle outside the cabin made her wonder if he’d gone around to the back, after all. She had no idea what he’d find—something that would keep him there, or something that would bring him back here—but she had to go now. She might never have another chance.

Sliding to the ground, she dragged herself down the hall and into the kitchen. At least she was more alert. At least the effects of the drug had mostly worn off. Full awareness brought her aches, pains and bruises to life, but it gave her hope that she could somehow outsmart him.

When she reached the front door, she didn’t have to open it. He’d left it agape. She could see the gleam of his bumper but not much else.

“Madeline, you’ll freeze to death out here. You know that, don’t you? Tell me where you are and I’ll help you back to the house.”

His voice came from the forest, sounding deceptively normal. Like the Ray she’d known her whole life. But he wasn’t the man she thought he was. He was evil—a creature with no soul, no concern for anyone but himself.

She just had to make it out the front door and over to someplace safe to hide, she told herself. But her coat wasn’t very heavy—she didn’t know how long she’d last on such a cold night. And where was safe? Ray seemed to be the only other person on the mountain. He certainly wasn’t worried about being overheard.

Anyplace was preferable to being trapped in the cabin. But when she got to the porch, she saw a glimmer of moonlight shifting through the tall trees overhead and glistening off—her heart sank—snow. There were footsteps going every which way, but if she tried to drag herself through it, she’d be frozen before she got ten yards, and Ray would easily be able to follow her oddlooking trail.

“You’d better tell me where you are.” He was shouting, his voice ricocheting through the trees. “If you don’t, you’ll be sorry. I can promise you that.”

Using her shoulder and hip, she moved toward the steps. Shoulder, hip. Shoulder, hip. She knew that trying to cross the small clearing was insane, suicide, but she couldn’t stay in the cabin. She’d rather die outside.

Then she bumped into it. The woodpile. And standing right beside it was an ax.

“Maddy, you’re being stubborn for nothing,” Ray said. “Where you gonna go? There’s no one else around, not for miles. And it’s less than thirty degrees out here. I think it’s about to storm.”

The wind blew snow from the branches of the trees, showering him occasionally, but the darkness bothered him most. He could see only what fell inside the narrow beam of his flashlight, which made him feel as if she was constantly evading him. He’d found one pair of footprints near the open window. He’d assumed they were hers, but they hadn’t gone more than ten feet into the forest.

She would’ve set off, tried to put as much distance between them as possible. So which tracks were hers? And how had she gotten loose? He’d knotted those ropes damn tight.

He wouldn’t underestimate her again. He’d chain her up, give her a bucket for a toilet and never let her go. But that would have to happen somewhere else. Once he found her, he was hitting the road again. They couldn’t stay here. Not with that Brian Shulman snooping around.

“Maddy?” he called.

And then he paused, fairly certain he’d heard a thud in front of the cabin.

The wind had blown the door shut. The resulting bang had nearly made her cry out. Panting from fear and exertion, Madeline was trying to saw the rope off her hands by pressing it against the blade of the ax. But she was too jittery, too panicked. Ray had stopped calling out to her, and the silence was far more unnerving than hearing his voice, because now she couldn’t trace him.

She wanted to hide, to hole up and pray for the best. But she knew that was foolish. He’d find her, and it would all be over. Weak, exhausted and frightened though she was, she had to use her mind and her nerve, push herself to the limits.

Keep going. She rubbed harder against the blade—back and forth, back and forth—but cutting through the rope wasn’t as easy as she’d expected when she first saw the ax. The tough, scratchy fibers bit deeply into her wrists, and the blade seemed far too dull.

The adrenaline pumping through her, and the cold, were the only things in her favor. They took the edge off her pain and kept her focused, so the fuzziness in her brain didn’t cloud her abilities or judgment. She had to get free, regardless of the cost. Otherwise, she had no chance.

I can do it. I can do it. She struggled to swallow with the gag in her mouth, but her throat was so dry, even that hurt. And that damn collar…

I’ll get free. She wouldn’t let Ray win. She’d fight back. Because he wasn’t her master. Fear wasn’t her master, either.

But where is he? And what’s he doing?

As if in answer, she heard movement. Then the beam of a flashlight suddenly appeared.

He was here. And she wasn’t ready.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ray’s light swept within inches of Madeline’s foot. She was sure he’d seen her, but she held perfectly still. She opened her eyes as wide as she could and yet she couldn’t even make out his shape. It was too dark. There was only that beam from his flashlight. And his footsteps, creaking on the wooden porch, coming closer.

Closing her eyes, she instinctively turned her face away in preparation for the worst. But his light didn’t land on her. He opened the door, hesitated at the threshold, then went inside.

She had a few more seconds.

Drawing on her last reserves of strength, Madeline continued to saw at the ropes around her wrists. She might as well be trying to chew them with her teeth, for all the good that dull blade seemed to do her. But then she felt a slight give. Or was it her imagination?

Ray was still inside. She had no idea what he was doing, but she could hear him moving around and knew she didn’t have much time. She worked more frantically, pulling and twisting her hands until her wrists throbbed so badly she nearly passed out from the pain. But her efforts finally paid off. Somehow she’d managed to cut the rope enough that she could, with much pain, slip one hand out. Then she merely had to shake her other hand, and she was free. Pulling the gag down, she hurried to untie her feet.