Chapter 227 Chapter 227
Chapter 227 Chapter 227
Kyra POV
I’m acting like an idiot. This I know, but I still can’t seem to stop myself. Is it jealousy? Or just worry about what my parents were talking about that morning? Or maybe it’s like it’s always been—anything related to thinking about my mother tends to turn my head all around into a twisted mess because she’s not here to talk to. There is no closure. No answers. Just questions. It’s a bizarre feeling to have your parents here, but not.
Maybe Aunt Katherine was right, and I should have been in therapy to deal with my confusion about my mother.
As I’m lost in my thoughts driving home in the dark, suddenly my Jeep starts to sputter, jerking me back into focusing on driving. A small light I’ve never seen before has suddenly lit up on my dashboard. Squinting at it, I realize it’s the gas light.
Shit.
I pull over to the side of the dark, woodsy road I’m on and the car dies. It just stops and won’t start again.
This can’t be happening.
Driving to the beach and back today must have sucked up a lot of gas, and I didn’t notice when I was driving us home earlier that the light was on or that the gauge had gotten so low. My father has told me a hundred times to always make sure I have a full tank of gas, and somehow, I still forgot.
Grabbing my phone from the passenger seat, my heart sinks when I see that I have no service out here on this mountain road that I need to take to get home. There are a few houses on this road, but they are all set way back off the road, and I’m not about to go traipsing down someone’s dark driveway right to their house not knowing what kind of person could be living there.
Realizing I’m going to have to walk until I reach the small town a few miles up the road to either get reception or find a phone, I dig the tiny flashlight out of the center console that my father had put there and jump out of the car.
Okay, Kyra. You know this road. There’s a full moon, so it’s not that dark. Just walk. And keep walking. And walk fast.
I’m doing okay as I chant this over and over in my head while I walk until a motorcycle roars up the road behind me and pulls to a stop a few feet ahead of me.
A chill runs down my spine as I realize it’s not Tor, as I fleetingly hoped. I know the sound of his engine, the shape of his body, and the man in front of me isn’t him. And besides all that, Tor’s bike is still in the shop.
I freeze, rooted to the side of the dark road, contemplating running back the other way. I never should have left Tor’s house in the middle of the night over a stupid fight.
The rider turns sideways to me, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips, his long shaggy hair parted on the side and hiding half his scarred face. The night glasses are covering his eyes, but I know behind them are eyes the color of turquoise. Eyes that once belonged to the golden boy of this town. Captain of the football team. Star of the lacrosse team. Voted prom king and most likely to become a star.
But not anymore.
Tyler Grace is a psychotic maniac. A murderer.
His gravelly voice breaks the night silence as we stare at each other.
“If you run, I’ll chase you. And I will catch you. Get on the fucking bike.”
In the distance to my right I can see a porch light on at a house through the woods, and I choose to bolt down their driveway rather than stand here on a dark road with someone that I have absolutely no idea if I can trust.
The fact that he’s Tor’s brother doesn’t change what he’s done, what he could do, or that he’s been completely unhinged for years.
As I run down the dark dirt driveway, I hear him coming up behind me—his feet pounding on the dirt.
Oh my God. He really is chasing me.
He tackles me from behind, and we go down. He snakes one arm around the front of me and uses the other to brace our fall. We landed on the dirt driveway with him lying on top of me.
I gasp for air, both from fear and from getting the wind knocked out of me, and I’m petrified when he covers my mouth with his hand.
“Don’t scream. Just breathe,” he says against my ear, easing up some of his weight off my back. His voice is so much like Tor’s, only darker and full of torment and hatred.
Slowly, he moves his rough hand across to my cheek.
“Why the fuck did you run?” he growls. “Did you really think I wasn’t going to chase you? Hunting things down and catching them is just way too much fun.”
“Please don’t hurt me,” I beg, gasping for breath as tears start streaming down my cheeks.
“Of course that’s the first thing out of your fuckin’ mouth.”
“Tyler… please.”
His finger continues to stroke across my cheek, and it sends shivers of terror down my spine.
“You’re the first woman to say my name in a very long time.”
“Just let me go.” I push back against him and kick my legs up, trying to throw him off me, but he’s too big and muscular for me to even budge him.
“No. You might want to stop squirming, though, ’cause I haven’t had a woman under me in a long time either.”
“Please…” My heart pounds in fear, but I try to reel myself in so I can attempt to get some control over the situation. I already know he’s mentally damaged. But I also know that this is Tor’s brother, and somewhere in him must be the happy-go-lucky, caring, talented person that we once knew.
“You know who I am, right, Ty?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm.
“Yup. Little Kyra Callis is all grown up.”
He shifts slightly over me, and I suck in a shuddering breath, praying he doesn’t do anything worse and hoping he’s just trying to scare me in some sick, demented way.