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Braden clutched his keys. “As soon as we know where they’re headed, I’m out of here. I’ve got the farm phone and mine.”

“We need to notify the cops, Braden.” Evan said.

“We’re not involving the cops,” Kane advised. “If we can’t get her back on our own, then we’ll involve them, but Vicky said it’s just one guy. She’s trying to remember what she can and should get here soon. She said he’s tall, kind of a big guy. And she, uh, said…”

“Tell you what, whore,” the man who had Peyton decided to speak again-he was also going to die for talking to her like trash but he didn’t know he had death’s mark yet-“I haven’t had a good hand job in a while. Get over here and give me one.”

“You might wreck if you get too excited and ow! Please! Don’t! No! Let me go! Okay! Okay! I’ll do it. Please put the gun down. I’ll…Oh my God. I know who you are.”

“I guess it takes a girl like you a long time to notice a guy like me.”

“Who is he, damn it!” Kane screamed at the phone.

“I…I don’t notice boys my own age. That’s all. It’s nothing personal. It’s just that I don’t have time to date, and Coach Pratchert always wanted my undivided attention to go to volleyball.”

“And after the bitch died, you ended up and found a little southern comfort in those men friends of yours.”

“Your stepmom died because your father killed her and-”

An undeniable slap rang across the room. She screamed as he slapped her. And the bastard must’ve smacked her four times.

“It’s Coach Pratchert’s step-son,” Braden said with a tight upper lip. “Vicky just pulled in. I’m going to talk to her a second and get her to tell me what she can remember. Then I’m going to get on the interstate. I’ll wait for your call.”

“Braden, Peyton’s car is hard to miss. We can get some help from the law enforcement and-”

“And what then, Evan? They spot her car and initiate a high-speed chase? Hell no! She’ll only make this out alive if we get her out of it. No cops.” Kane gripped the kitchen sink as he looked down at the floor. “Nobody has her best interest at heart like we do.”

The stereo started to play through the phone. He didn’t turn it up very loud but the music lingered in the background. “I think I asked you for a hand job.”

“No, you told me you wanted one.”

“Shit! She’s going to put up a fight and if she does…”

“If she does, he’ll kill her.” Vicky walked through the door Braden held open for her. She glanced from one brother to the other.

“We saw him staring at us at school. We walked right by him, and I saw the way he looked at her. He’s going to do things to her, all sorts of things.” Vicky slumped down in a nearby chair. Her face was pale, and her hands trembled.

“Vicky, I need you to think. Are you sure the guy was alone?” Braden asked.

As if a sudden thought hit her, she jumped up from the table. “Braden, Peyton said you had most of the school shooting on tape. If you do, you’ll see him. He was the second shooter!”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m positive. You have to call the police station. You’re going to have to-”

“Suck me or give me your hand,” the guy said again.

“Coach Pratchert loved you like a son.” Peyton ignored his request apparently. “And you and your dad took her away from a lot of people who adored her.”

“Oh yeah? Well, thanks to your Cartwell friends, my dad is in jail. Going to prison for life.”

“On an insanity plea because the bastard couldn’t own up to what he did.”

The tires squealed then, and Peyton screamed. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to fuck some humility right into your arrogant ass!”

Kane punched the cabinet so hard it dented the wood. Braden’s face drew up with the slicing pain of hearing a man threaten who they all loved most in the world, the one light they found at the end of far too many dark days.

Evan sat down on the floor with his head in between his hands.

“I can’t stand here and do nothing,” Vicky said. “I’m calling the police.”

A struggle unfolded on the phone. A few grunts, screams and moans.

“Wait! Please wait! Think about this! Do you want your father back? Is that what this is all about? I can help you.”

Vicky held the phone out and started to dial. Kane snatched it from her hand and tossed it on the table.

“Come on, Peyton. Buy us some time, baby. Come on, use that pretty little head of yours.”

“Your name is Stephen, right?” she asked him.

“Oh so you know my name?” It sounded like his breathing wasn’t near as ragged as Peyton’s which Evan translated as a good thing.

“I know your name because Coach Pratchert always talked about you.”

“Shut up about that bitch and tell me why you think you can help me.”

“I know what this is about…” Peyton let her voice trail off or maybe they missed a few words or something. Did they hit a dead spot somewhere? Oh hell, what if they lost signal and lost her?

Kane hit the cabinet again. Vicky flinched.

“She’s buying time,” Evan said. “She doesn’t have any idea why he has her.”

“Who cares so long as it works,” Braden said. “I just don’t understand why she hasn’t said where they are. She must’ve known she dialed us. Why the hell won’t she say where they are?”

“Maybe she doesn’t know,” Vicky said.

“I’m waiting for you to tell me what this is about, Miss Storm. Or should I go ahead and call you Mrs. Cartwell. From what I saw of you and the younger one at Clink, it looks like a wedding has already taken place. Are you still going by Storm or Cartwell?”

“I’m not a Cartwell,” she said. “But I’d be as proud as ever to tell you if I was.”

“We’ll see about that!” He screamed at her like it infuriated him to realize she didn’t deny the Cartwell name. “Just because they saved you that day at the gym, don’t expect them to save you now.”

It sounded like the car was moving again. Evan took a deep breath. As long as he kept the car on the road, he wasn’t abusing her. Evan didn’t think he could take it if he laid a hand on Peyton. He’d heard the fear in her voice, and his heart was breaking. He’d never felt so helpless in his whole life.

“Why are we headed this way?” she asked.

Kane stumbled backwards and hovered over the box. Braden moved for the door, and Evan climbed on the cabinets. Over the kitchen sink, he retrieved a pistol. He loaded it and handed it to Braden. Immediately, Braden checked the safety and shoved it in his belt.

He had his hand on the doorknob ready to move.

“We’re going to spend the night in Fletcher.”

“Fletcher?” Evan mouthed the words to Kane. The Cartwell ranch was in Arden, only minutes from Fletcher.

“Oh,” she said. “Why Fletcher? Why do you want to stay so close to where I’m living?”

“For several reasons. First, I need to make sure I’m close to the interstate, and second, I want to leave you somewhere close to the Cartwell ranch. After I have my way with you, I’m going to kill you.”

“Why?” she screeched.

“Because whores like you die. It’s why my step-mommy died.”

“You’re sick.”

A slap and then what sounded like a harder punch came blaring through the phone.

“They’ll kill you!” she screamed.

“No, Peyton, I’ll make him pray for death,” Kane said. “Braden, get to Fletcher. He might check in at the Holiday Inn there at the interstate. There’s a little mom and pop type hotel there behind it too and another few right there at the same exit. I can’t imagine that he’d risk staying at the Hampton. It’s not easy to get in and out of there.”

After a few minutes of silence, Peyton’s sniffles subsided. “I’ll do anything you ask me to do but I’m young…please let me live.”

“She’s begging him. Damn it to hell, she’s begging for her life!”

“I tell you what. How much do you think the Cartwells would pay me to let you live?”

“They don’t… they won’t…they…I don’t know.”

“Would they pay a million?”

In a heartbeat, Evan thought.