Page 114 of Reclaimed

“You didn’t leave me a note.” Suspicion permeates his tone. The refrain of a jilted ex-lover sounds awkward coming from this stranger.

“I didn’t know I was supposed to.” Between my index and middle finger, I grip my phone, slowly dragging it loose from the gap.

“How can you leave your husband without telling him where you’re going?”

Husband? I don’t dare correct him. Not after the last time. There’s obviously something wrong with him if he’s convinced we know each other.

The sound of the pavement grinding beneath the tires fills the car. Setting the phone on the seat by my hip, I hit the screen, and look down just long enough to unlock it with facial recognition. Several missed calls and texts wait for me, and I thank god I perpetually keep the device on silent.

My heart thrums wildly as I make two blind taps. One to open the call list, and the other on Aiden’s name I know to be at the top.

Please, pick up.

Lucien followed us from the club. This man—Henry—clocked him about ten miles into the drive. But I have no way of knowing if anyone else knew I was gone. If Lucien called anyone to report what he was seeing. If he called the cops. I’m not sure how much it’ll matter now anyway. Now that Henry shot at him until Lucien lost control and carried on with as much care as someone who ran over an unfortunate squirrel.

The call connects. I only know because the numbers at the top beneath Aiden’s name begin to keep track of the duration. One. Two. Three. I watch the seconds before I breathe out a shaky exhale. I wish more than anything that I could put the phone to my ear. Even just to hear him breathing steadily with me.

“It’s too bad, really,” Henry says cryptically.

I don’t want to ask. I really don’t. But I need to know what he’s talking about. Closing my eyes, I pretend I can feel Aiden with me. “What’s too bad?” I fight to keep my voice above a whisper. The words ache in my dry throat.

A silence passes.

“All those women.” The car drifts to the right before he corrects. “They’re entirely your fault.”

My throat feels like sandpaper. “What women, Henry?”

“Those sluts I killed for looking just like you.”

The shiver racing up my spine is violent. Every nerve in my body fires to life as adrenaline floods my system. The urge to flee rips through me like a devastating current. I’m locked in the car with a serial killer, and if he has his way, I’m going to be his next victim.

“Why would you do that?”

“You should know better to run from me. I had to teach you a lesson.”

“But I didn’t run from you—”

“Yes, you fucking did!” he spits, yanking a hand off the wheel to shove a finger in my face. “Don’t you fucking lie to me! You let me believe you were dead.”

Pure anxiety infiltrates my voice. “I—I’m s-sorry.”

His shoulders relax against the seat. “That’s better.”

“What are you going to do with me?” I ask the relentlessly gnawing question.

“I was planning on killing you.” He licks his top lip, glancing at me for a second with a sick grin. “You need to pay for what you did.”

31

Aiden

The club is crawlingwith police by the time we arrive. Cruisers from neighboring cities and the county are in the parking lot. The attention seems to be centered on the right side of the building, so we head that way on foot after Corjan parks.

Crimson stains on the pavement churn my stomach, and I pause with my hands on my knees. A fortifying breath strengthens my defenses. I have to keep it together for Isla. I have to believe we’re going to get her back. There’s no other option. If she doesn’t come back to me whole and alive…

I simply won’t survive.

Lee emerges from the faces, his long strides closing the distance between us.

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