Destined (The Rangers of Ridge County #1)

Chapter Fifty-Six

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

MILLIE

“ W ake up!” a manic voice echoed through oblivion.

A groan made its way through my parched lips as I blinked, once, then twice.

Where was I?

My head throbbed, and my vision was as fuzzy as the antique television screen in front of me.

“You’re going to miss the best part,” the voice exclaimed from somewhere in the darkened room, startling me. I tried to move, but my hands were bound behind me. I tugged, but they went nowhere—the skin on my wrists twisted painfully the harder I tried.

Reality sunk in the longer I worked to free myself—my sobs filling the small, musty room.

Dustin Bennett might have been guilty but not of stalking me.

“Please let me go,” I begged hysterically as a tall figure stepped from the shadows.

“But why? We had a meeting scheduled, remember?” the figure questioned.

I shook my head, trying to hold back my sobs. I vetted the boutique hotel.

Obviously not as well as I should have, though.

“Little Rabbit, you’re being awfully dramatic,” the figure singsonged. “Acting as if I killed your best friend.” I stilled, my breathing turning ragged as I pictured Greer’s lifeless body on the side of the highway. “We both know it’s the blonde’s friendship you value most.”

A scream ripped through the space. Mine but somehow not.

My eyes shot to the television in front of me.

On the screen, I was in my room inside the Bennett’s farmhouse.

“H-how?” I whispered, dumbfounded as I watched the past play out before me—one I couldn’t remember.

Yet, there I was. Climbing out of the shattered window, only to be jerked back by the same man who now moved to sit beside me on this ratty couch.

“I’ve been watching you for a while,” he admitted proudly, tossing photos onto my lap one by one. My attention shifted between the homemade film and months worth of grainy snapshots piling so high they slid to the floor.

I watched on the television as he stabbed something into my arm. Was this when he’d dosed me with Thumper?

I gasped as the hand holding me on screen vanished, sending me free falling from the frame. “BITCH!” boomed loudly through the vintage speakers of the television set.

I jolted, and the lunatic’s cackle sent his breath slicing across my skin, flaying me.

It was becoming difficult to differentiate between the past and present.

The last few minutes of this horror movie involved me limping for the wooded area between my rental and Emmett’s. As I watched, my fight returned. If I had escaped him then, I could escape him now.

The film came to an abrupt end, and static filled the screen. A pop sounded as a VCR expelled the VHS tape we just watched. My tormentor stood, switching on the overhead light.

I squinted, overwhelmed by the brightness, but as my vision cleared, the room came into focus.

And it was dreadfully familiar. As was the face staring back at me.

Turns out Mountain View Motor Lodge had not remained in my rearview.

And the man who had checked me in on that fateful night was wearing a set of coveralls with Tim’s Auto Repair stitched on the front. Along with a name badge that read Thomas .

My red gloves hung from his pocket, and I stared at them baffled. How had he gotten those?

Tracking my line of sight, he scoffed, “You really should be more mindful of your surroundings, Little Rabbit.”

That was rich coming from him. I tried to keep my expression neutral, and I would have succeeded if not for my eye twitching in anger. I’d been nothing but mindful of my surroundings for the past few months, thanks to him.

“I snatched these from your coat pocket one day at that coffee shop you love so much,” he said, patting the gloves. “I’ve become very fond of them,” he murmured, his pat turning into more of a caress. “Hope you don’t want them back,” he added, and I cringed at the thought of touching anything he’d handled.

“Come on, let’s go get another movie from my collection,” he said, pulling me from the couch. He snatched the same knife he’d used earlier from where it laid on top of the dated television set and pushed me toward the door.

“W-wait…” I stammered, remembering something about statistics and second locations. Only to realize I was miles away from my initial one, making this shithole number two.

I was fucked no matter what.

But I at least wanted to know why.

“Why?” I asked. “Why me?”

“It was destiny,” he said matter-of-factly. “I knew you were meant to be mine from the moment I laid eyes on you outside the lobby.”

“You’re insane,” I spat, unable to keep my emotions in check.

“Quiet!” he snapped, shoving me over the threshold and into the gravel parking lot toward his truck. We were halfway there when I heard the sound of sirens. I started to run, but Thomas grabbed me by the duct tape wrapped around my wrists.

I screamed, and he moved to slap me. But multiple Sheriff’s Department vehicles appeared, skidding into the parking lot and creating a blockade around us.

Thomas jerked my body in front of his to use as a shield and brought the knife still caked in Greer’s blood up to my throat.

Emmett was out of his vehicle and slowly approaching us when Thomas began backing up, dragging me with him.

“Don’t come any closer!” he shouted, briefly pointing the knife at Emmett before bringing it back to my neck. Emmett stopped and held up his hands.

“Drop the weapon and let her go, Thomas,” Emmett commanded sternly.

Thomas’s manic laughter filled the air, ruffling the hair at my nape. His pungent breath made my stomach churn, and I tried to lean away. But he jerked me upright—the knife at my neck digging in deeper, piercing the delicate skin there.

“You really think you can take her from me?” Thomas cackled from behind me, clawing his nails into the flesh of my arm that was still bound behind my back.

Emmett opened his mouth, but Thomas cut him off.

“She’s mine!” he shouted, and I flinched.

“The hell I am!” I scoffed before I could stop myself.

Thomas’s hold tightened, and I felt blood trail down my neck.

“After everything I’ve done for you!” he bellowed. “You would dare deny me?”

“And what have you done, Thomas?” Emmett questioned, garnering the mad man’s attention once more.

“More than you have,” he yelled in answer. “That one woman said she’d rather die than part with the earrings I gave my Little Rabbit for Valentine’s Day.”

Was he saying that he’d killed Molly Maxwell because of her earrings? Nausea roiled through me at the thought.

“And I got rid of the man who thought he had the right to touch what was mine,” Thomas continued. “The other two were just collateral damage. Maybe I should have gotten rid of you, too, Sheriff,” he deadpanned, and I stiffened at the thought of him going anywhere near the man I loved. But Thomas took note of my hackles rising, and his already punishing grip became lethal.

“Did you fuck her?” Thomas asked Emmett .

Emmett stayed silent, and Thomas grew restless behind me. “Little Rabbit, I really thought you were the one,” Thomas stated, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. “But you’re no different than any of the others. You’re just a slut.”

It was obvious he intended to kill me, but I would be damned if I left this Earth without telling Emmett exactly how I felt.

“I love you, Emmett,” I called out, needing him to know.

A pained expression consumed his face that had tears welling in my eyes. I was so fucking tired of crying.

The blade pressed in further, and I was certain this was it.

I was going to die.

I held Emmett’s gaze, though something momentarily snared his attention. He looked back at me, a determined expression overtaking his face.

Then he was moving—barreling toward us as a shot rang out.