Page 91 of Temptation
A cop was stationed in front of his hotel room. But no one was behind the hotel, so no one saw when Preston climbed off the narrow balcony in the back and jumped down to the first floor. They all thought he was safe inside. Sleeping in the hotel room bed. He’d found extra pillows in the closet of his room. He’d put them under the covers. It looked like he was sleeping. But he wasn’t. He was hunting.
He just had to be fast.
Fast enough…
He’d taken the keys to his dad’s car. A car parked behind the hotel. Hidden because his parents hadn’t wanted to attract attention from reporters who were coming to the area.
Preston unlocked the car, and he climbed inside.
The coordinates he’d been given were burned into his memory. But he still put them in the car’s GPS. His adoptive dad was a techie who had a full directional system in his car, and it was pretty easy to find the location.
Pretty easy to drive, too, considering it was his first time behind the wheel.
He drove until the road ended. Then he hopped out. He ran toward the trees?—
“I knew you’d come.” The sun had started to rise, and the man was right there. Right there. Just waiting in the woods. “Come with me, son.”
Disgust filled him. “I’m not your son.”
Laughter. “Have you looked in a mirror?”
The man wasn’t dead. Didn’t appear injured at all. The cops had said they shot him…
“We have to hurry. You could have been followed.” His father turned away and started walking.
That was when Preston realized the man’s back was soaked with blood.
The man disappeared into the thick trees. Preston ran to the back of the car. He popped the trunk and grabbed a crowbar that had been tossed inside. He was not going to let that bastard get away. He was not?—
“What are you going to do with that, son?”
He hadn’t left. Preston’s hold tightened on the crowbar. “Stop calling me that!”
“You gonna use that bar on me?” More laughter. “I’d like to see you try.”
Then, before Preston could even turn around, he drove a fist straight into Preston’s back. Into his spine. Hard.
Preston slammed forward. His head rammed into the top of the trunk. The jerk yanked the crowbar right out of his hand, and then he slammed it into Preston’s back. Once. Twice.
Then Preston’s legs. Behind his knees. Preston went down. Hard. He landed on his stomach, but rolled quickly, breath heaving in and out.
“You think you’re gonna hurt me?” The man stood over him. So much bigger than Preston. That crowbar gripped tightly in his right hand. “You raced out here because you were gonna try and hurt me?”
Not just hurt him. Kill him.
“Did you tell the cops where I was?” The man leaned over him. “Are they closing in?” He drove his booted foot into Preston’s ribs.
Preston felt one rib break. He felt it.
“I had such high hopes for you. I let you live.”
“I…crawled out…on my own.”
Laughter. Mocking. So mocking. “Crawled out and came to kill me. Maybe I should be proud.” He straightened. Then drove the crowbar down onto Preston’s chest.
The pain ripped through him.
“But I’m not proud. Because you’re a fucking screw up. You didn’t even get one good swing in at me, did you? Don’t worry. I’ll make you harder.” He tossed away the crowbar. “I’ll get rid of that fake family you have. I’ll bury them deep. So deep that no one will ever find them again. Then you will understand. Then the darkness will consume you.”
