Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 70797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
My eyes opened, and I looked out the window to see a line of trees covered in snow. It was still snowing and pitch-black outside. Now we were in the middle of nowhere, away from the city.
Away from people.
Shit.
My hands weren’t bound and neither were my ankles.
There was some hope.
I tried to pretend I was still sleeping. That way, I could catch him by surprise. It was a stupid idea, but I could take the wheel and turn the van off the road. I might break an arm or something, but he also might die.
That would be nice.
His deep voice filled the air. “I know you’re awake, baby.” The radio wasn’t on, and only the sounds of the moving van filled our ears. The dead guy in the back rolled from side to side when we turned. I could hear the tap of my purse too.
I wished I could reach my purse. “Where are we?”
“Lake Garda.”
North of Verona. That meant we passed Conway’s home on the drive, along with Carter’s. Shit, why didn’t I just stay with them longer to recover? And why did I have to go on that date? If I’d just taken a different route last night, I wouldn’t be on my way to a freezing lake where he would dump my body. “I’m not letting you drown me in that lake.”
He chuckled, amused once again. “I don’t think you’re in any position to call the shots.”
“For now,” I said ominously. “But I assure you, I will be.”
Each corner of his mouth rose in a wide grin. “I’ve never had a prisoner more amusing. They usually cry for a while. Then they start begging. They never fight back. But you’re an anomaly.”
“Because you don’t want to mess with me.”
“Ironic,” he said. “You don’t want to mess with me either.” He finally turned his head my way, his handsome expression hard but amused. He turned back to the road, his sculpted jawline so hard it looked like someone cut it out with a knife. Men that handsome weren’t supposed to be serial killers. He could have had a much different life if he wanted to.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Need to be more specific, baby.”
Ugh, I hated that word. I hated the way it fell on my ears. “Why are you killing innocent men in dark alleyways?”
“Why do you assume he’s innocent?” he countered. “He could be even more evil than I am.”
“Because you took me. And I’m pretty sure I’m as innocent as they come.”
He started to smile again. “You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Innocent or not, I can’t let you get away.”
“Why?” I demanded. “The police are afraid of you. So who could I tell?”
His hand tightened on the steering wheel, and he stared out the front window. The edges of the windows were frosted with ice, and even though the defroster was on, it couldn’t combat the freezing temperatures. “I know who you are, Vanessa Barsetti. There are worse people you could tell.”
My blood suddenly turned ice-cold, colder than the snow outside. I’d been scared this entire time, but now my terror reached a new level. I’d hoped he’d let me go because I was an innocent nobody. But now that he knew who I was, there was no going back. If he let me go and I told my family, they would hunt him until there was nothing left of him. The odds of repercussions were too great. The Barsetti family was far more formidable than the entire police force. He must have looked at my ID in my purse when I was passed out and recognized my last name.
My heart started to beat harder, and despite how cold it was, my palms got sweaty. Even if I could reach my phone right now, I probably had no reception.
Fuck, this was bad.
I’d just escaped Knuckles a month ago, and now I was being taken again. But this time, my opponent was far more terrifying and intelligent. The attempts I made to evade my captor last time wouldn’t work now.
But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try.
My father was so proud of me when I escaped. The emotion was in his eyes like never before.
I had to make him proud again.
I threw my hands across the center console and grabbed the wheel, determined to make it crash into a pile of snow or a tree. I pushed the steering wheel to the left, but his grip was too tight.
He slammed his foot on the gas, pushing the van at top speed. Then he turned his face toward me, his look so intense it resembled the underworld. With only a single hand, he managed to keep the steering wheel straight. He let the van fly down the icy road as he mocked me with his gaze. He challenged me, unafraid of the unknown ahead of us.