His cheerful expression didn't slip an inch. “Your new home.”
I repressed a scowl. Like fucking hell it is.
He strolled past me and over to the window, where he opened the blinds to reveal a fiery sunset. “My family always loved to spend summers in the mountains. They really are the best vacation spot. No WiFi signal, no phone reception, just good old-fashioned quality time.”
I screamed internally. Mountains? The nearest ranges were four hours to the east and twice as long to the west. I must have been knocked out for longer than I'd thought. More importantly, even if I managed to find my phone or steal his, it would be useless here. And he'd probably pay extra attention to the rooms with landlines. If there even were any.
Brant was still gazing out the window, admiring the vivid desert sunset. What the hell was wrong with him? His everything is totally normal act was unbelievably creepy. My heart was still pounding and the desire to get to my daughter burned like a wildfire inside me. But I had to play nice for a minute and try to get some information from this psycho.
But what leapt out of my mouth was, “Why are you doing this?”
He turned his head, looking mildly surprised. “I just want to make my two girls happy.”
“So you kidnapped us?” I asked before I could stop myself.
He sighed. “All I want is for you to give me a chance, Finley. Let me show you I'm worthy of your love.” He crossed the room again and sat down beside me on the bed. I flinched. “I know you'll learn to enjoy life here.”
Half of me was imagining clawing his eyes out or strangling him with my chain. But the other half was frozen in terror. If my attack failed to knock him out, it would just anger him...and he might hurt Maple or separate us as punishment. I had to play along with his twisted little game. Just long enough to get Maple back in my arms, figure out where the hell he'd taken me, and steal ten minutes with a phone. In that order. If I earned his trust, he'd slip up sooner or later. I swallowed down my anger.
“I'll...I'll try,” I choked out.
His face lit up. “Great! We can—”
“But I need to see Maple first,” I interrupted. Her cries had gradually petered out, but that was even more worrisome than her screaming her head off.
“Who?” He looked towards the door. “Oh, her. Of course. Let me get you out of here.”
As he took a tiny key from his pocket, his arm brushed aside his suit jacket. I swallowed hard at the glimpse of black metal. A handgun. He had a fucking gun tucked into his waistband. I didn't think I could get any more scared, but hot fear like I’d never felt before raced through me.
Showing no sign of noticing my panic, Brant unlocked my wrist cuff. Then he led me down the hall to another small bedroom. Its rose-pink walls were scarred with tape-marks from old posters. The furniture had been shoved aside to make room for a crib with chipped white paint—clearly a relic that had been dug out of storage.
My stomach unknotted with sheer relief when I saw Maple fast asleep. Poor thing...she must have exhausted herself crying. I rushed close, only to wrinkle my nose. It smelled like her diaper had been full for hours. I ground my teeth. How could this idiot not know the first thing about kids? Didn't he say he had a family?
Maple's eyes fluttered open when I picked her up. She blinked, confused for a second, then smiled at me. “Mommy,” she cooed.
“Yes, honey.” I swallowed back sudden tears. “Mommy's here.”
Satisfied with that, she popped her thumb back into her mouth. Thank God she’s okay. I glanced around and saw Brant standing in the doorway. “Do you have a changing table?”
“Oh...” He looked lost. “Just use the bed for now.”
My diaper bag sat on the twin bed. Even if he didn’t know much about babies, he’d at least thought to grab that.
After I finished changing Maple, making no effort to avoid dirtying the crisp white linen, Brant motioned to me. “Come on, let me give you the grand tour.”
Keeping Maple locked in my arms—there was no fucking way I was ever letting her out of my sight again—I followed him upstairs.
I kept a smile frozen on my face as he showed me around my prison. Not only to keep the psycho placated, but to keep Maple at ease, too. I had to show her that Mommy was okay. I just wished it were true.
Upstairs, photos hung on every wall, showing Brant, a short blonde woman, and an aloof-looking teenaged girl. There was a definite family resemblance. But this house had too many empty rooms. The closets only held men's clothes and shoes. One cluttered nightstand in the master bedroom, the other one bare. The place was so neat, so lifeless, that it would have felt like a hotel if everything weren't covered in a layer of dust.
What the hell was going on? Didn't Brant always wear a wedding ring whenever he came to pester me? The small bedroom where I'd found Maple must have once been his daughter's room. I realized I wasn't the only person here who was clinging to something long gone.
Well, boo fucking hoo for him. Even in the worst depths of my grief, I'd somehow managed not to run around kidnapping people. Something must have been twisted inside Brant from the very beginning; whatever had happened to his family had just brought it to the surface.
With a shudder, I realized something else. The woman in all the family photos looked a lot like me. Or rather, I looked like her. Green eyes, long face, and blonde, slightly wavy hair.
I guess I know why he chose me now. Gee, what an honor.