“Oh my god,” I gasp, tugging at the restraints, groaning at the tear of skin around my wrists. Terror ignites in my chest. Fear overwhelms my body. Ignoring the ripping of my flesh, I begin to tug harder. “Help!” I call out, the sound of my voice etched with panic. How did I get here? How long have I been like this? My head is too foggy to grab any memories or reasoning. My chest starts to pound, stealing the air from my lungs. “Help!” I yell again.
“Don’t bother. No one can hear you.” I’m suddenly paralyzed by the familiar voice. My head veers to the side, causing more dizziness to slice through me. “Oh my god, Braydon, what’s going on? Help untie me please.” He doesn’t make an effort to move. A chill skates over my aching skin. My throat swells. “Braydon, untie me.”
A slow smile spreads across his face, filling me with dread. I pull at my restraints, grasping for any hint of a memory. “Braydon, this isn’t funny, untie me!” I force my voice to sound stern, but he can hear the shiver in my tone. My body shudders with dread at the way his predatory eyes stare at me, almost as if he’s staring right through me.
How did I get here?
Think, Hannah, think!
Dammit!
I can’t even recall what day it is. My lower lip begins to quiver. “Braydon, why are you doing this?” How long have I been here? Does anyone know I’m missing? “I thought we were friends?” My comment agitates him. He starts pacing, and that’s when I see the shiny metal in his hand. “Braydon…” I beg, the last of my cool evaporating. I tug harder on my shackles, kicking my feet to free them from their ties. When his focus lands on me, his eyes are wild. I don’t have time to register his quick movements. My shrill scream is deafening as he jumps toward me, his arms raising and thrusting down, the large knife slicing mere inches from my side.
“Oh, come on. You know I wouldn’t hurt you.” He yanks the knife out of the mattress. “Unlike him. He left you there, upset. Turned his back on you. I would have never done that to you.” What is he talking about? Who left me?
Jake’s. Kipley and Levi fighting. He ran out, and I followed. I was standing by my car. Braydon—
“Ahhh…she’s starting to remember. I watched what he did to you. He should have never treated you that way. The things he did to you at work. The disrespect. You should be cherished, not taken advantage of in an office like some whore.” He whirls around and starts pacing again, taking the knife and stabbing at the air.
I need to catch my breath. Calm the rapid beats of my heart and find a way to rationalize with him, which is hard because I’m seconds away from hyperventilating. “I’m sure if you untie me, we can talk about—”
He waves his knife around, his eyes manic. “And have you run away from me? Not a chance.” He walks over to the dresser, leaning forward to observe the framed photos. My body jolts when his hand shoots forward, swiping the frames to the ground. It’s in that moment I take note of the people in those photos. My stomach threatens to expel everything boiling inside it. More observing around the room confirms my grave assumption. I’m in Clara Hill’s home.
“Bray—ayden…” My voice shakes. “Why are we in Clara’s bedroom? Where’s Clara?”
He stands straighter, pivots on his heel, and walks toward the bed. His dilated pupils narrow into crinkled slits, and he bends down. The hairs on my arms stand as his eyes close and he inhales a big breath, smelling me. He quickly pulls back, shaking his head as if he just took a hit of his favorite drug. “You know why,” he says, averting his eyes from mine, tracing the lining of my shirt. “You should have let it be, Hannah.”
I can’t decipher his cryptic words. Why am I here? Where is Clara! How did I not notice this side of him? Never once did I recognize any red flags. Holy shit, Braydon is a psychopath. Calm down, Hannah. I need to focus. Rerouting my tactics, I take in a deep breath. “Listen. I agree. Thank you for noticing. I honestly never knew you felt this way about me. I—I wish I’d known.”
His eyes, carrying a mixture of shock and anger, pierce into mine, searching for truth or lies. “You do like me?”
I nod furiously. “Yes! Of course! How could I not? That’s why I spent so much time with you. I thought it was you who didn’t like me.”
His lips crest into a hopeful smile, then curl down. “Is that why you turned to him?”