Page 126 of Between Regrets and Promises

“He’s cut her,” I wail, my heart lodging into my throat as I gasp for air. Liam steps on the gas, and we’re practically flying down the highway.

“Where are we going?” Hunter asks.

“Weston’s house. He lives close to Glenwood Meadows. That bastard probably took her there,” I reply, kicking myself for not thinking to go there earlier, considering he’s probably been staying there.

In no time at all, we’re pulling onto the street. The last time I was here was when I helped Sophie pack up her shit and move her to my house. The inside was a wreck from the fight theyhad before the wedding reception. The same day the gun went off and killed him. The same day he could’ve murdered Sophie. Dalton had gotten away with killing his wife, so couldn’t he do the same? I’m sure that’s exactly what Weston thought too.

“We should go in through the back,” Liam orders. “Don’t want to look suspicious and get the cops called on us by the neighbors before we get the chance to grab her.”

Liam leads the way, and Hunter and I follow as he walks around the side of the house. Liam pulls out his gun, then places his back against the brick, and whispers, “Everything sounds quiet, doesn’t it?”

“That doesn’t mean anything. He had her mouth duct-taped,” I remind him.

Seconds later, he lifts his leg and kicks the back door in with the heel of his boot.

“Damn, dude,” Hunter says, impressed, but Liam’s built for shit like this. Liam keeps his arms stretched out as he points the gun in front of us and walks inside, then clears the room before walking into the kitchen. On the counter, we see Sophie’s phone with a piece of paper. My heart fucking sinks when I read the note.

You think I’m that fucking stupid to let you track her number? If so, then you’re the idiot. Say goodbye to your little girlfriend, killer. See you soon, motherfucker. You’re next.

I gasp for air, but it doesn’t help. I lose my balance and lean against the counter, nearly falling to my knees. Liam and Hunter read the note.

“This is all part of his game,” Hunter says as another photo comes through my text.

Dalton has Sophie’s hair wrapped around his fist with a knife to her throat, and I try to choke out words, but nothing comes out.

“He’s gonna kill her,” Hunter whispers.

“Not if we find and kill him first,” Liam retorts as he helps me stand, and we rush out of the house.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t call the cops now? If he’s gonna kill her either way…” Hunter says with concern written all over his face.

“The moment he hears or sees them, he won’t think twice about killing her on the spot. At least we can appease him while we look for her and shoot him first when we find them,” Liam says. I want to believe we’ll get there before something terrible happens to her, but with every second that passes, I fear the worst.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

SOPHIE

When I come to,my entire body feels as though I was thrown off a bull. When Caleb cut my arm and I saw blood, the world faded away once again. I’m not sure how many times I’ve been unconscious. I was in shock, horrified that he could cut into my flesh as if I’m nothing more than a slab of meat. He found way too much satisfaction in my earth-shattering screams when he pushed the blade into my skin.

My eyes are nearly swollen shut, and my lips feel busted. My back hurts from being taped to this chair for so long. What Weston did to me doesn’t compare to what his brother has done tonight.

I glance at Caleb, noticing the similarities between the two and wonder how I never noticed. I’m a fucking fool. Same cheeks, same nose, and even the same coldness behind their eyes—they’re monsters cut from the same cloth.

“Finally,” Caleb huffs when he notices me stirring.

He looks at me like I’m a huge inconvenience, but I didn’t wish for this. All I wanted to do was support someone I thought was my friend, attend grief circle, and experience a first date with Mason. I should’ve known it was too good to be true. Thetiming is always wrong, but this is the most fucked-up way for the universe to show that. The thought nearly blinds me, but I try to push it away.

“Caleb,” I croak out. The excruciating pain is causing my body to go into shock.

“Stop calling me that! My name isn’t Caleb, you dumb bitch.”

I swallow, not knowing what’s true and what isn’t anymore. At this point, I don’t care what his name is. I want to get out of here alive and back to Mason, but I don’t know if that’ll happen. My heart races when I think about dying at the hands of this monster.

He watches me, amused.

“What should I call you then?” I ask, trying to keep him talking so maybe it’ll give me more time to live. Or, rather, figure out how to get out of here before it’s too late.

He snarls, then shrugs. “I guess you should know the name of your killer. It’s Dalton.”

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