Part 8 (1/2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.

It had to be a coincidence. How would Mrs. Drawbridge know that calla lilies were my favorite flowers? No, it couldn't mean anything. And yet it meant everything. This was a warning.

I sat on my bed shaking for what seemed like an hour. It hit me that coming to Serendipity had been a mistake. The town was too close to Madison. I had to move away to a bigger city, a place with enough people to swallow me, to hide me from my worst nightmare. Maybe I'd adopt a new ident.i.ty and make it even harder for him to find me.

After calming my breathing, I checked again that the door was locked, shut all the windows, and then picked up the contents of the breakfast tray from the floor. I wiped up the mess with the kitchen towel. My hunger had completely disappeared.

Just to make sure I wasn't imagining things, I called Mrs. Drawbridge, who answered in a chirpy morning voice.

”Did you get your breakfast?” she asked when she recognized my voice. ”I don't like disturbing my guests. They come to the Drawbridge Inn for privacy, and that's what they get.” She paused and breathed in. ”Can I help you with anything else, dear?”

”I ...” I licked my lips as my heart started to race. I was afraid of the response even before I spoke again. ”Thank you for the flower. Beautiful ... It's beautiful.”

”What flower, dear?”

That was all I needed to hear. The phone slipped from my sweaty grasp and fell with a thud to the floor.

I could still hear Mrs. Drawbridge's faraway voice on the other end, but I couldn't pick up the phone. With my arms around my legs, I rocked back and forth and sobbed long and hard.

It had to be him. He knew where I was. He was just biding his time before coming to get me. I was trapped. If he knew I was staying at the inn, he would know when I came and went. I couldn't leave my room. But then again, he had found a way to slip a flower on my breakfast tray. If he wanted to get to me, what would stop him?

I peered through the bedroom door to the front door, trying to listen to the sounds outside. But the thumping of my heart and my sobs were too loud to let me hear anything.

Still, I watched the door for one straight hour, waiting for him to enter, to find me, to take me back to his life, to punish me harder that he had done before.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.

Jude had everything to do with the flower, and he was near.

I picked up the jam-stained kitchen towel and smelled it. My stomach cramped. The faint, but still unmistakable masculine scent made me woozy. I dropped the towel, but the scent was stuck in my nostrils-musky, expensive. No point in trying to deny the raw truth.

My body thrummed with anxiety as my gaze swept the room, searching for possible weapons I could use to defend myself if Jude entered the room. I took in the empty vase on the round table near the window and thought of the iron rod that held up the shower curtain in the bathroom. Then I stood and opened every drawer. A thought crossed my mind and I ran to the tray. My heart fell. It didn't surprise me that even though I would have needed it for smearing the bread with b.u.t.ter and jam, the knife was missing. He'd taken it.

Fine, I'd find another weapon. I lifted my gaze to the top of the wardrobe. First I saw the folded cable, and then the ultimate weapon-an iron. Hard, solid metal. If I used it right and fast enough, I could give him a deadly blow to the head or kill him, if forced to go that far.

In the end I sat cross-legged on the bed, surrounded by the iron, the iron rod, a shoe, the vase, a bottle. If one weapon failed me, I'd have another within reach.

Now that I was ready for him, all I could do was wait. But an hour and then two went by and no one came to my door. Now I was hungry and my bladder was filling, but I was just too afraid to move from the bed where I had the perfect view of the front door. I wouldn't want him to catch me in a moment of weakness. Sitting on the toilet would definitely be one.

Finally, at five p.m., the sky beyond the window started to darken and my leg muscles had cramped from sitting too long in one position. My bladder was on the verge of bursting and hunger twisted my stomach.

Jude didn't show up. What was he waiting for? Was he waiting for me to leave the room before he struck? I wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

My basic needs finally won, and forced me to move away from my weapons. I picked up the rod, bringing it with me to the toilet, peeing with relief. Then I went to pick up the tray from the table at the window where I'd put it earlier. As if I hadn't eaten for a week, I wolfed down the breakfast that Mrs. Drawbridge had brought me in the morning. I didn't care that it had been on the floor, and G.o.d knew what was attached to it. I didn't care that the oil on the sausages had congealed or that the sausages were covered in jam. Nor did I care that the bread was in pieces. Her food all went to the same place. No matter how it looked when it traveled there, it would all end up looking the same.

I had known hunger in my life before, but this was the best meal I had ever eaten. When I was done, the plate was wiped clean.

At nine p.m. I climbed under the bed covers and placed my weapons strategically next to me under the sheets, on both sides of my body. If he entered, I would take him by surprise. I would fool him into thinking I was helpless so he could let his guard down. Then I'd strike.

The clock on the wall above the front door finally struck midnight and my eyes started to drift shut. No Jude.

I wrestled with sleep a while longer, but I eventually fell asleep against my will.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.

He was in the room. Even with my eyes closed, I knew.

I wasn't dreaming. I could smell him, feel his heat, and sense his fury. He had managed to sneak in while I was asleep, and I hadn't even heard a thing. I bit my bottom lip, and opened my eyes.

Through the moonlight s.h.i.+ning through the curtains, he sat like a shadow next to me on the bed.

Trying not to panic, I searched my foggy mind for a solution. I could scream, I thought, but he was close enough to shut me up. Then I remembered my weapons and as quietly as I could manage, I ran the palm of my left hand along one side of me and brought my right hand down the other. Nothing but the feel of cotton.

”Looking for something?” He turned his head and gazed down at me. ”You must be really stupid to think you can do anything to me.”

I froze. My heart started to thump so hard it hurt, as if I had just run a marathon. I actually was, trying to escape without moving. ”Jude.” My voice was a whisper in the dark.

Like a bolt of lightning, he shot out a hand and grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanked me hard toward him. ”You little b.i.t.c.h.” Words and spit hit my face. ”Did you really think you could run from me? You had the guts to pull this s.h.i.+t after everything I did for you?”

I let out a squeak, and moved upward to try to lessen the familiar pain, but he was pulling so hard it felt as if my scalp would just let go of my hair.

”Jude, you ... you're hurting me.” I covered his hand with mine and tried to uncurl his fingers. I was no match for him. He only tugged harder until I felt pins and needles of pain in my face.

He laughed. ”You think this is pain?” With his other hand, he slapped me across the face so hard my vision blurred momentarily. ”Wait till I'm done with you, you little piece of s.h.i.+t. You dirty f.u.c.kin' wh.o.r.e.” He drew me to him and wrapped a hand around my mouth and nose. I thrashed and tried to pull away, but he was too strong.

His hand was soft against my skin. No, I thought as I started to feel fuzzy. No, that wasn't his palm. He was holding something to my mouth. A rag. When I realized what he was doing, I tried to struggle some more, but whatever he was using to knock me out was too strong. Energy drained out of my body and within seconds, my world went black. My last wish was that he should just go ahead and kill me.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

Darkness. Everywhere.

I was awake but unable to open my eyes. I tried, but something tight pressed against them. I pushed through my fuzzy thoughts until I figured out what it was. A blindfold. I tried to use my hands to remove it. They wouldn't move. They were tied behind my back and so numb I almost couldn't feel them. I tried to turn from my stomach to my side, only to realize that my feet were tied too. Whatever bound them dug painfully into the flesh on my ankles.

Sheer black fright clutched my heart. A scream built up inside my throat, but it didn't leave my lips because something was stuffed into my mouth.