“You made the perfect dolly,” he sneers. Apparently, he’s changing tactics. He won’t be begging for his life; he’ll be tempting her to end it quickly.
But Dolly isn’t stupid.
“I did everything hoping it would stop. But it never did. And never will so long as there are people like you out there.” She presses the tip of her knife to his chest.
“Yeah, you did. You took those cocks so good.” More taunting. I tighten my hands around the rope. If he hurts her, I’ll jerk him off his feet again and finish him myself.
Dolly studies his face, dragging the knife down his torso, over his rounded belly. His eyes clench shut, and his mouth screws up into a silent scream.
“I wanted to do so many things to you when I found you,” she says softly, plunging into his stomach.
Romero grunts, and she removes the knife.
“I had so many plans to make you hurt, make you squeal.” The knife pierces his abdomen again, and he cries out. “But then I saw Sarah and met your daughter. They’re more important than you.” She stabs his stomach again and again and again, until the front of her dress is covered in his lifeforce.
I hold tight to the rope as his wiggling continues. He can fight, but there’s nowhere to go.
He coughs and spits blood, but he’s still breathing.
She pulls his head back farther. Blood drips from the side of his mouth. His eyes are barely open, but she’s not finished with him.
“You don’t get to have another moment of my life.” She raises the knife to his throat and sticks the blade in the center of this throat.
Wet gurgling emits as he grapples for his last breaths. Dolly doesn’t release him until the sounds have long stopped and his body falls limp on the rope. She steps back, letting him flop forward when I release my end of the rope.
Silently, she stares at him, unmoving.
“Dolly—” I start in a whisper, but she holds up her hand.
“I think you can call me Abigail now, Brian.” She raises her chin and levels me with a soft smile.
Stepping over him, I grab ahold of her, pulling her to me. “Abigail,” I say her name, letting the flavor of it roll over my tongue.
“We need to get Sarah to a hospital. Call her parents. And Ella—” She wipes the back of her hand across her cheek. She’s crying. Silent tears that cleanse the dirt of the past from her. She’ll never be scrubbed of it all, but for the moment, for this moment where her tormentors are gone, she can bathe in a safety she has never fully known.
“They’ll be okay. C’mon. Let’s go.” With my arm draped over her shoulder, keeping her close to me, I bring her out of the room. Ella stands in the living room, her fingernail between her teeth. Sarah’s sitting on a rocking chair, the blanket held tightly around her.
“Is he—?” Ella asks.
“He can’t hurt you anymore,” I assure her.
“It’s my fault.” Ella’s shoulders slump, her eyebrows knitted with pained remorse.
“We need to get Sarah to a hospital.” Abigail brushes off Ella’s comment.
Red and blue lights flash through the front windows.
“What do we do?” Abigail asks, panic quickly rising.
I check the window, hoping they’re going to another house. No luck. Three squad cars pull up in front of the house. I look from Ella to Sarah to Abigail.
“We go.” I grab Dolly’s hand. “Ella, stay with Sarah. Be sure they take care of her, do you understand?”
“Y-Yes. I will. I promise,” Ella vows as I pull Abigail toward the back of the house.
“Brian. Wait.” Abigail yanks against me once we’re on the back porch.
“We don’t have time. We need to go. They’ll take Sarah and Ella to the hospital. They’ll find Romero. It’s fine, but we have to go or they’ll take us too.” If I don’t get her out of here right now, they’ll take her. I’ll lose her. She’ll be swallowed up by the system. Even if she’s never made to pay the price for what we’ve done, she’ll be gone from me. I won’t be able to find her again. It’s not fear, it’s fact burning in my gut.
She finally recognizes I’m not backing down and gives me the approving nod I love so much from her. She’s trusting me.
“We have to hurry.” I yank her harder, and we run through the yard. Bursting through the fence, we sprint for the truck.
As I maneuver the truck past the garage where Romero’s car is still parked, a dark figure steps into the alley. I don’t wait to identify him.
“Go!” Abigail cries out, and my foot slams on the gas pedal.
Twenty-Nine
ABIGAIL
Freedom I never dreamed to hold in my hands teeters before me. If I reach out far enough, I might push it away. If I try to grab hold, I could drop it and lose it forever.
“Abigail.” Brian stands behind me, placing his hands on my hips.
A gentle breeze runs off the lake and rushes over our faces. My hair blows wildly around me. The sun is high in the sky. Summer is finally here.
“It’s a bad idea,” I say after his fingers start to tighten on my waist.
“Okay. Why? Let’s list them.” He’s being reasonable. It’s a trait that irritates me sometimes, like when I just want my way without concession. But Brian is even more bossy than Ken ever was. It’s my biggest flaw that I love it.
I flip around, pressing my ass into the railing of the deck, and tilt my head so I can glare properly up at him. His hands move from my waist to gripping the rail, completely caging me in—a feeling that once shook the nightmares loose.
“He could arrest you.” I point out the obvious. Meeting with Pierce is a horrible idea if only for that reason alone. “He’s a cop. It’s his job to arrest the bad guys.”
“And you think we’re the bad guys?” Brian cocks his head.
“No. Of course not. But he does.”
Brian’s eyes narrow slightly. “Do you trust me, Abigail?”
“In the sense that when he arrests you, you won’t tell them where to find me? Yes.” I give a sharp nod.
The side of his mouth kicks up into a lazy grin. How can I concentrate on getting him to do what I want when he starts looking sexy and relaxed?
“In the sense that you trust my judgement.”
I groan. “Of course I do. But what if this is a trap? They’ve been looking for us for three months.” The wind blows my hair in front of my face, probably making me look a hell of a lot less fierce than I’m trying for at the moment.
“And they haven’t found us,” he points out. This pretty house on the lake isn’t traceable to either of us. As much as I wanted to flee, get out of the country altogether, Brian insisted we see how everything plays out. If the police won’t continue their investigations into the other girls, he promised me we can. So, I haven’t pushed him about heading south of the border.
“By luck, I’m sure.” I scoff.
“You doubt me so much already?” His eyes darken.
“No, of course not. But we can’t stay here forever. There’s no way Pierce just lets you walk out of that diner, never to search for us again. You heard the news. They haven’t given up.”