Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Frankie’s weary gaze finds mine.
She kept a diary, an account of her ordeal.
That she would entrust me with her innermost experiences, despite everything, signals a bridge, however fragile, being rebuilt between us.
As quickly as relief washes over me, unease seeps into its place. The thought of what that journal contains, the ugly, terrible events and secrets laid bare on its pages, fills me with visceral fear. It’s not just the anticipation of confronting the horrors she faced, but the apprehension of learning about what can only be the darkest chapters of Denver’s evil.
The bandages on her head, the rawboned condition of her body, the heavy-lidded look in her eyes—all of it amplifies my concern about the tolls the past nine months have taken.
“Frankie.” My heart pounds a thunderous echo. “I’m grateful that you trust me with this. With your story. Whatever you need me to know, whatever you want to tell me…I’m here. I’ll listen.”
Nodding slowly, she blinks rapidly, presses her fingers against her mouth, and looks at Leo as if trying not to cry.
He slides out of his bed and goes to her, dragging his IV pole with him.
My hackles bristle as he perches beside her legs and laces their fingers together.
Then his gaze lands on mine. “Twenty-three years ago, Denver buried my mother alive for trying to escape. That same year, he abducted Kaya and her two-year-old son, Kody.”
I stop breathing.
“Two weeks after we arrived,” Kody growls, “my mother committed suicide. I used to curse her for abandoning me, but after everything I learned today, I understand.”
Kaya.
Sweet, gentle Kaya…
Abused.
Destroyed.
Lost to a monster.
Christ.
Fucking God.
I lower into the chair because I know there’s more coming. I can feel it siphoning all the air.
“That was a busy year for Denver.” Leo works his jaw. “When Kaya died, he brought another woman to the cabin. This one was pregnant, and her name was Gretchen Stolz.”
Pregnant.
“No.” Numbness swamps me. Disbelief clouds my mind. “It can’t be.”
“Are you sure?” Leo crosses his arms. “Twenty-three years ago, were you not fucking Gretchen Stolz?”
I need a goddamn minute to process this.
Standing, I pace to the window. It’s dark outside. Snow swirls. I see nothing.
I rest my fingertips against the cold glass, gathering myself, bracing against the shadows of the past.
“Gretchen…was a regrettable mistake.” My breath shakes as I turn and face the room. “She was after my money. I was young. Twenty-five and naive. My parents had just died a year prior. I was dealing with that, managing their fortune while my company was blowing up with overwhelming success. I didn’t realize Gretchen’s motivations until it was too late. Until she tried to trap me with a pregnancy.”
I fall into Frankie’s horrified gaze. Before we married, I alluded to women trying to trap me but never gave her names or details.
“I demanded she terminate the pregnancy, and I set up the appointment.” The confession spills from me, echoing the cruel demand I gave nine months ago.
Frankie battles the tears brimming in her eyes, her body trembling to suppress the sob that nonetheless breaks through. A sound that lacerates my soul.
The impulse to rush to her, to offer whatever cold comfort my touch can provide, propels me forward.
“Finish the story.” Leo positions himself like a bodyguard, his stance a physical barrier, his silent message loud and clear.
There are lines I can’t cross and wounds I can’t heal.
He’s not fucking around. My face still throbs from the beating he gave me earlier.
I can hold my own in a fistfight. I have a terrible temper. Though I rarely resort to violence against others.
Fighting him to get to Frankie won’t help anyone. But I can give her the raw, shameful truth.
“I’m terrified of children, Frankie. Given Denver’s sickness and my…my preference for younger women, I developed a phobia.”
“Explain your preference for younger women.” Leo’s eyes blaze.
“I had a crush on Kaya when she was too young. My wife is twenty years younger than me. This is a hereditary disease.”
“No, it’s not.” Frankie sniffs, wiping her eyes. “I understand your fears, Monty, but unless you’re molesting underage—”
“Never.” I seethe.
“You don’t have a disease,” she says with conviction. “You love women, not little girls.”
“I love you.” My declaration triggers a storm of aggression in the room. I ignore the growling males and focus on her. “Will you tell me about your pregnancy?”
“It was short.” She nudges Leo toward the head of her bed so she has a direct view of me, where I stand near her feet. “Denver took me from our house.”
My blood chills. “He took you on your boat?”
“Yeah.”
In a monotone voice, she lays out the abduction—the encounter in our bedroom, the rope bindings, the tranquilizers, the transfer to his yacht, then to the Turbo Beaver, the arrival at the cabin, and her immediate attempt to escape on the snow machine, which led to the miscarriage.