Dave was just sitting there, staring me down with this cold, hard look.
The second he realized I was awake, his face twisted into this nasty smirk.
"You know, Sue," he said, his voice low and bitter, "I've put up with your crap for years. But this? You've crossed a line. Today, you're finally going to learn what happens."
I couldn't believe it. All my support, all my advice—he actually saw it as some kind of abuse. My mind was reeling.
Trying to keep my voice steady, I asked, "What do you want, Dave?"
Slowly, carefully, I slid my hand into my pocket. My phone was gone. Damn it. But my fingers brushed against my Bluetooth earbuds—still there. Thank god.
I pressed and held the call button, praying it would redial the last number. I'd just been on the phone with Leo. If this worked…
Speaking a little louder, I said, "I can hear a train… and I'm in some kind of shack. Where did you bring me?" I had to get as much out as I could.
Dave just laughed—a harsh, ugly sound. "Don't even bother. We're in the middle of nowhere. No one can hear you scream."
His expression darkened. "You're going to pay for what you did to Amber. This is all on you."
And then he came at me, a knife flashing in his hand.