Page 177 of Secret Obsession
But the more I examine it, the more wrong it feels.
There’s something missing, and I can’t put my finger on it.
My phone makes a noise as the call connects, and the brother holds out the phone away from his face.
Video call.
“Greetings, Miles Whiteshaw,” he says.
His voice sets me on edge every time he opens his mouth. It’s slimy andwrong.
“Where is she?” Miles demands.
The brother twists the phone around, and I lift my head enough to catch sight of Miles’ face. He’s okay. There’s a bandage on his temple, and his eyes are wild, but he’sokay. I almost didn’t believe it when he assured me of such a thing, and I let out a slow breath.
Whatever happens to me from here on out will be okay if Miles is okay.
“You love her, don’t you, Miles?” He kneels beside my chair.
My hands and ankles are bound. I can’t do a fucking thing except squirm away from him and try not to fall over.
He grabs my hair, bringing my face in close to his masked one.
“Look how pretty she is, and so terrified.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Miles spits. His face is his own version of a mask, his cold eyes only softening a little when he sees me.
“Like you killed my brother?”
I suck in a breath.
“Ah, the love of your life is frightened for you.” He faces me, those brown eyes searing into mine. “All your pathetic lies were worthless. They assured me that I couldn’t trust you, even if I wanted to… even if I was inclined to do so. I have a weak spot for blondes.”
I shudder.
“You took my brother,” he continues, his words directed at Miles. “So I’m going to do you one better.”
He hauls me up and drags me toward the freezer. He’s got his other hand out, angled down with the camera to show our progression.
“You’ll never trustyourbrother again,” he says. “Because you’ll always blame him for killing your girlfriend.”
Belatedly, I realize what’s wrong with the freezer.
The padlock is gone.
He hauls the lid open and reveals an empty freezer. It’s not cold, though. At some point, he must’ve unplugged it. It doesn’t burn my fingers when I grip the edge, pushing back and trying to keep away from it.
“Aw, she’s afraid.” He’s suddenly in my face, running his covered nose up my temple and into my hair. He’s focused on the camera, though. “I hope you dream about her screams, Miles Whiteshaw.”
No, no, no.
The fear is there, so fucking real it chokes me. I can’t get any words out beyond a moaning noise, and I struggle against him. He’s got a hundred pounds on me and is at least a foot taller.
He pushes me into it, forcing me down. He grabs my ankles and twists my body, so I fall into the case freezer on my side.
“Scream,” he commands.
I don’t want to, but I can’t help it. It just bursts out of me, all the terror and fear unable to be contained. It echoes around me as he shows the camera what he did. He reveals the padlock in his hand, and then he closes the lid.
