Page 1 of Her Frozen Heart

PROLOGUE

BLACK FRIDAY

Kesha struggled against the twine around her wrists. Her efforts only tightened the knot. The twine had shredded her skin. Good. The more DNA she left in this miserable piece of hell the better.

“You’re only making it worse.” The man lounged in the doorway of the dingy room, shirtless. Her fingernails had left angry, red scratches down his chest. She prayed enough skin had been collected for the cops to find the man who’d kidnapped her.

“I told you if you didn’t fight, I’d let you go when the time was right.” He stepped toward the bed. Kesha drew her legs to her chest, fighting sobs. She knew he was lying. He wouldn’t let her go after the things he’d done to her.

And deep down, she wasn’t sure she wanted to live after the hours and hours of hell he’d put her through. When he wasn’t attacking her, he’d drugged her. Black plastic covered the lone window in the room. Between the lack of sunlight and the drugs, Kesha had no idea how long she’d been here.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and trailed his fingers over her naked skin. She recoiled, ashamed of her sweaty, injured body. Dried blood caked her inner thighs. Pain rippled through her lower abdomen.

“If you’re going to do that to me again, just kill me now,” she choked out.

He stopped caressing her. “All in due time.”

“My name is Kesha.” She fought to speak over the ache in her throat. “I’m only seventeen. I don’t have siblings. My parents…” The words caught in her throat. She’d never see her parents again. She’d never have a girls’ day with her mom or watch football with her dad. Her parents would never recover from Kesha’s death.

The man smiled. “Are you trying to humanize yourself so I won’t kill you?”

Kesha couldn’t answer. His hand had started roaming again.

“Don’t feel bad,” he said. “It’s a survival instinct. It might work on a normal person, but not me.”

She couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her face. “Why not?”

“Because I’m far from a normal human being. I’m evolved. I understand life and death on a level most don’t. Animals hunt for prey. Humans used to do the same until they got lazy and started raising animals to murder. Now man hunts wild animals for sport.” He leaned closer, his lips grazing her skin. “Why shouldn’t I do the same?”

ONE

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 24

“It’s snowing again. We already have ten inches on the ground, and this stuff is almost like sleet.” Rory set a pile of mail on the counter and leaned over Nikki’s shoulder. “Is that gingerbread cookie batter? I should taste it and make sure—”

She blocked his reach with her elbow. He’d already eaten enough sweets over the past few days to put a normal person into a sugar coma. “Back off. These are for Santa and your parents.”

“What about those rum balls?” he asked.

“You can have a few, but not many. They’re Mark’s favorite. Lacey wanted to make them for him.”

Lacey climbed back on the stool she’d put next to Nikki. “I just hope nobody gets drunk eating the cookies,” she said with serious eyes. “Because when Mommy drinks rum, she gets goofy.”

“Yes, she does.” Rory patted Nikki’s rear end. “Among other things.”

Her cheeks burned at his husky tone. “Stop it.”

He laughed. “Which cookies are for Santa, Lace?”

“The plain round ones. I put sprinkles on some.” Her happy smile faded. “I don’t know if I should put out milk or soda.”

“I thought Santa preferred milk,” Rory said.

Nikki kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “Tyler always encouraged her to leave soda, because Santa probably got tired of milk.”

“I see,” Rory said. “Well, if your dad said so, then it’s probably true. And I bet Santa looks forward to your house every year just for the soda.”

“Maybe,” Lacey said. “If he comes.”

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