“Let me out,” I exclaim, yanking on the door handle, only to find the door is locked. When I attempt to search for a lock, I see that there isn’t one. I’m trapped. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”
The screen on my cell lights up, and when I look down at it, my entire world comes full circle because it was always bound to end this way.
I’m not far. He’s the reason for all of this. I wish he was at the bottom of the lake because my father is dead to me. Damn William Coachman to hell.
I never once asked Cayden what his father’s name was, but I should have. If I had, I wouldn’t be in the predicament I’m in.
Frantically, I type out a reply to Lacey, detailing my suspicion that I’m currently experiencing hell on earth, or more accurately, in this truck. But my finger hovers over the send button as tears sting my eyes. “Ellie is such a pretty thing. Looks like my son has similar taste in women to his old man.”
What does that mean? Ellie is…
The world begins spinning as bile rises. If I send this text, I know Ellie will be in danger, which is exactly the reason we’ve done what we have, only to have it backfire epically.
“No.” I gasp, shaking my head. This can’t be possible, but it seems the devil was a lot closer than I thought him to be because sitting beside me is Will…William Coachman. Cayden’s dad.
“What do you want?” I spit, trying to keep my cool. But Will sees straight through me.
He simply smiles and continues driving.
A million thoughts crash into me as adrenaline soars through me. Every fiber of my body demands I text Lacey and then call the police. But if I do, I have no doubt I’m endangering Ellie because Will has been planning his revenge for ten long years. She’s his bargaining chip, and I have no doubt he’ll use her any way he can.
I’m on my own.
I’m disgusted I once thought he was kind and admired his good looks. But on closer observation, I see the reason I thought he was attractive was because he looked like Cayden…his son.
“I don’t remember you,” I cry, hoping that’ll change the course of his actions.
“Then I’ll just have to remind you,” he deadpans.
“Did you run me off the road? Are you the reason I can’t remember?”
He inhales in victory.
“Why?” I plead. “Why after so long have you done this? Yes, what we did was wrong, but we were kids. And you were hardly a saint.”
“Because, doll, revenge is a dish best served cold.”
And that’s it.
He doesn’t offer any other explanation other than the fact that he’s a deranged psychopath, hell-bent on making everyone who wronged him suffer.
When we turn a corner and a familiar neighborhood comes into view, it seems fitting that he’s taken me here because this is where it all started. And when he pulls the truck up near my old vacation home, I’ll give him credit for raising the bar on being a creepy fuck.
He kills the engine and turns to me slowly. I instantly shrink back. Even though I don’t remember him, I will never forget the retelling of the vile things he’s done. “Now, if you do what you’re told, no one will get hurt.”
I find that very hard to believe.
“We clear?”
With no other choice, I nod. “Ellie is okay?”
“For now.” Will smirks, but it’s lacking warmth as he opens his door and rounds the hood. I wait for him to open my door seeing as I’m locked in. When he does, the contempt rolls off me. He laughs in response and offers me his hand.
Peering down at it, I compare it to a live grenade. But this isn’t an option.
Slipping my hand into his, I recoil and swallow down my nausea. His touch is cold and calculating as he leads me through the gate and onto the grounds of my old home. From my understanding, my parents still own the house, but from the unkempt appearance, it’s safe to assume they haven’t been here in a while.
Will leads me around the back, which has me speculating how he knows the layout so well. When he drags me to the door and opens it, I wonder what in the ever-living hell is going on. Even though my parents haven’t used this place in a long while, there is no way they would leave this place unlocked and without an alarm.
He shoves me inside, and I see that we’re inside what looks to be a sunroom. Furniture is covered with dusted white sheets, but the farther I venture, I see that this is not the way for the rest of the house. When I enter the enormous kitchen, it’s apparent from the pile of dirty dishes and the endless takeaway containers that someone has been living here for a while.
No guessing who.
“What are we doing here?” I ask, so done with his games as I yank from his hold. “If you’re hoping that I’ll remember by bringing me here, then I’m sorry to disappoint you. It won’t.”
I know I should be afraid of him, but that’s the thing about amnesia—I don’t remember all the reasons. Yes, Cayden has told me what he’s done, but being told and experiencing it are two totally different things.
Will leans against the counter, arms and ankles crossed, while I search for a weapon. There has to be something under all this junk.
“We’re here because it’s time I’m given what I’m owed.”
I gulp. “I don’t know what that means.”
Reaching into his pocket, he offers me his cell. I look down at it, then back up at him, baffled. He soon clears up any confusion. “Call your mom.”
“My mom?” I repeat, my pitch an octave higher than usual. When I take in where we are and the fact that he believes he’s entitled to something, I snort in humor. “If you’re going to hold me for ransom, expecting a hefty sum for my return, you’re in for a shock. My mom won’t pay you a penny.”
But he soon reveals I’ve strayed way off the path. “Your mom knows I’m here. Who do you think gave me the key?”
I stumble backward, eyes wide, wishing I didn’t believe him. But I do.
“So call her. I know you’re dying to know how this ends.” His emphasis on the word dying has me accepting the cell with shaky fingers.
I hate that he’s right, but I don’t understand any of this and the fact that Stella is somehow involved has me dialing her number. “I told you not to call me on this number, you…”
“Stella, it’s me.”
Silence.
“Peyton? Oh, my God.” And for the first time, I hear fear in her voice and it makes her…human, terrifying me. “Where are you?”
With eyes fixed on Will, I reply, “At our vacation home…with Will.”
I’m waiting for surprise. For her to challenge his claims. But I get neither. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“You knew he was here?” I question, my stomach dropping.