The Prize (18 page)

Chapter Twenty

Someone was chasing me.

It was dark.

I ran through the streets at the fastest pace my legs would move. Too fast.

I couldn’t catch my breath. I’d been running so hard for so long. I couldn’t see the
man behind me, but I knew it was a man by his gait.

Why? And why hadn’t he caught me? It was orchestrated. He was intentionally wearing
me out. Was he laughing?

Every time I turned another corner, I found myself alone. No one was on the streets
to help me. I didn’t have enough oxygen to scream. Where was everyone? What time was
it?

It had to be the middle of the night.

There weren’t even street lamps.

When I couldn’t run any farther, I raced down an alley, checking every door. Finally,
one opened and I slipped inside, shutting the door behind me, locking it, and leaning
against it.

Sweat ran down my face.

I cringed when I heard him yell at me from outside.
“I will find you, you bitch, and you’ll be sorry.”

The threat made my heart stop. I screamed.

The screaming yanked me out of a stupor, and I bolted upright, opening my eyes to
scan my surroundings.

“Fuck.” I was in the safe house, in the bed where I’d fallen asleep after the best
masturbation session of my life.

My eyes widened as the facts rushed in. I was alone. It was a nightmare. One I was
familiar with. I’d had that dream and ten other similar ones for fifteen years. Would
they never stop?

I knew the answer to that question. I wouldn’t rest no matter where I was as long
as Michael Swarth was on the streets. I wasn’t sure I would even sleep well if he
were picked up. Even locking him in a cell wouldn’t ease my nerves. He would eventually
get out again.

And what about his family? His parents could be as big a threat as he was. There was
no telling how they felt about me.

A chill shook my frame, and I lay back down on the mattress and drew the covers over
my naked breasts. I needed to get up. Fix dinner. Do something.

Anything. I couldn’t allow myself to sleep all evening and into the night. At this
rate, I would awaken at about two o’clock in the morning with a horribly messed up
sense of day and night.

As if I hadn’t slept in weeks, I pulled myself from the bed onto wobbly legs and felt
around on the floor at the foot of the bed for yoga pants and a T-shirt. I hadn’t
gone so long dressed as a total bum since the middle of undergraduate school. Perhaps
during finals. Definitely not since I’d gotten a job and entered the real world.

Now I understood what it felt like to work from home. On the one hand, I enjoyed being
comfortable. Not wearing a bra had its perks. On the other hand, I felt cooped up
and slightly confused from being isolated for so long.

I headed toward the kitchen, and when I checked my phone, there was a message from
my therapist. I hadn’t spoken to Dr. Frost since I left Atlanta. I needed to call
her back.

While I stared into the refrigerator in search of inspiration, I waited for her answering
machine. But shockingly, she answered. “Dr. Helen Frost’s office.”

I smiled. I loved the way she always answered as if it wasn’t her on the phone. She
laughed about it and told me once it gave her the easy out anytime the person was
a telemarketer.

“Hi. It’s Meagan.”

“Meagan. How are you? I haven’t heard from you in a few days. I was worried.”

“Things escalated.”

“Oh no. I’m so sorry. You want to come in?”

“I can’t. I’m in Charlotte.”

“Charlotte? I’m surprised.”

“You and me both. Swarth came after me when he got released.”

She gasped. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I wish. He broke into my place, where he would have found nothing. The police came
to my office on Monday to let me know. His prints were everywhere. I strong-armed
my parents into leaving town and headed for Charlotte. I stayed two nights with Parker—the
guy I was seeing—and now I’m in a safe house near the police station.”

“Wow. I did miss a lot. Why did you move to the safe house?”

I grinned. That would be the first thing she honed in on. “It was probably a mistake
to go to him in the first place.”

“Because he’s a Dom?”

I flinched, shutting the door to the fridge when I realized I had been standing there
not seeing inside since Dr. Frost answered the phone. I eased into my usual spot at
the table on the hard wooden chair I had grown to despise already. “Not really. Mostly
because he’s rich.”

“You know it’s okay to date rich guys.” She chuckled at her sarcasm.

“It’s a hard and fast rule of mine. Why can’t I meet some normal, everyday man who
works hard for a living and can’t seem to save enough?”

“And suppose you did? Then what? Would you settle down and marry him and never tell
him how much money you had? How would you keep that a secret for the rest of your
life?”

I chewed on my bottom lip. She had a point. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not meant to
live with someone else anyway. I would drive them crazy eventually.”

“How so?”

“It’s tough sleeping with a woman who occasionally wakes up screaming.”

“So you’re not going to let yourself fall for any man because he might be put off
by your nightmares.” Her voice was even, but still sarcastic.

“Seems like a plan.”

“It’s a horrible plan, Meagan.”

I smiled again. It always seemed humorous when she told me I was dead wrong about
something. Wasn’t she supposed to carefully guide me to a different conclusion or
something?

“You’re not giving him a chance. You need to let him make his own decisions. Keeping
secrets from him and running away doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of being what you
need him to be.”

“It’s not a secret. He’s seen me wake up from a nightmare.”

“And did he kick you out in the middle of the night?”

“Of course not.”

“Then don’t you think a discussion with him about your issues and insecurities concerning
this subject is a much more reasonable approach?”

“Even if I did, it wouldn’t make him less rich. So the subject is moot.”

“It’s been a long time since we delved deeply into that subject.”

“My opinion hasn’t changed.”

“You need to work through it. It’s irrational.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I see that, but you’re never going to have deep relationships with any men until
you work through it.”

“I’m good alone.”

“That’s fantastic. We should all be ‘good’ alone. But you could be better. And I would
hate to find you depriving yourself of happiness and the chance for love because you
didn’t take the effort to leap over this hurdle.”

I didn’t see the point. Logically, I understood. But when push came to shove, I wasn’t
willing to make the change. Not for anyone. Not even for Parker, who was the first
man to come close to tempting me to reconsider my stance.

She changed the subject. “Talk to me about the dominance.”

“It’s good.”

She chuckled. “Good? I think we’ve overused that word. Is that a contributing factor
to why you left?”

“No.” I groaned. “If anything, it was the main thing keeping me with him. It’s so
refreshing to let him control everything for a few hours. It allows me to escape and
let go. Even in the midst of this shitstorm, I submitted to him for two days. Those
were the only hours I didn’t worry about my problems.”

“So that’s a good thing. Why did you leave exactly?”

“It was too perfect. The longer I’m with him the harder it is to walk away.”

“This should tell you something.”

“Yeah. It tells me to run far and run fast. He owns a freaking technology company.”

“I know. Have you ever considered that’s a whole other level of rich?”

“Yeah. It’s called way too rich. No way in hell he would give it up for me. And I
would never ask.”

“I was thinking more along the lines that at some point a guy has enough money to
do whatever it takes to make you feel safe.”

“There’s not enough money in the world to make me safe. The only time I ever feel
safe is when I’m dressed like a homeless person, wearing no makeup, and haven’t combed
my hair when I go out.”

“But you never do that, Meagan.”

“Right. So I never feel totally safe.”

****

My phone rang twice while I was speaking to Dr. Frost. When I ended the call with
her, it was already ringing again.

“Parker.”

“Geez. You scared me not answering.”

“I was on the phone with my therapist. Calm down.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Well, get over yourself. She’s been with me for years. Besides, you’ve never met
her, or is it that you don’t like therapists in general?”

“No. No. Not that. I’m glad you have her, and I’m even more elated to know you’re
speaking to her from here. What I don’t like is not knowing where you are. If you
don’t answer, I have a near heart attack.”

“Well, get over that too. Besides you’ve already spoken to me twice today. You reached
your quota,” I teased.

“I don’t see what it would hurt for me to know where you are. Someone needs to know.”

“Detective Branch knows.”

He moaned. “Okay, but someone else. Someone keeping closer tabs who has a vested interest
in your life. And I need to see you.”

It freaked me out a little that he had a vested interest in my life. “Staying with
you was a bad idea. It wasn’t safe. Luckily, there’s little chance Swarth knows I
was ever there. But there’s no way in hell you can come here or I can go there.”

“We could meet somewhere if it makes you feel better.”

“No. I’m not leaving this apartment.”

“Ever? What if they never catch him? You can’t stay there forever.”

“I’m aware of that. This is just until Branch comes up with a more permanent solution.”

“What sort of solution is that?”

I winced. I hadn’t meant to give him that much information. No way did I want to argue
with him about the strong possibility that I would abandon my life and no one would
ever hear from me again. “Don’t know yet,” I lied.

“Uh-huh. Okay, fine. Let’s talk about something else. How was your day? Did you get
a lot of work done?”

“I did.”
Until I decided to masturbate to your bossy image
…

“Me too. Except I’m having trouble concentrating with you in hiding.”

“You weren’t in the habit of seeing me daily before this happened. It’s no different.”

“Are you crazy? I’m head over heels for a woman who walked out on me, won’t tell me
precisely why, and is hiding from a madman. That’s a little different from last week’s
agenda.”

I let out a short laugh. I couldn’t help it. He made it sound so ridiculous. “Okay,
you have me there.” And then I sobered. “But you need to get over thinking I’m so
perfect for you. I’m not, and this thing between us isn’t going to work out.”

“You keep telling me that. But I don’t believe you. And don’t start yammering about
disappointment. Nothing that happens between us is ever disappointing. Even arguing
with you is preferable to not speaking to you at all.”

He was way too nice to me. I was nothing but a bitch, and he took everything I dealt
without flinching. Would he ever give up? I worried about how he would react when
he found out I was gone. I didn’t think I would have the strength to tell him ahead
of time. A clean break would be better. Just walk away without a word and no way to
trace me. It was the easy way out for me. He would be pissed, probably for a long
time, but he’d move on eventually.

I was suddenly exhausted. I hadn’t eaten dinner, and I no longer cared. All I wanted
to do was sleep. Escape. Maybe if I left the bathroom light on, I wouldn’t wake up
disoriented and confused after the inevitable nightmare. “I need to go, Parker. I’m
tired. And I don’t want to argue with you.”

“Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow. But you better answer, or I’ll call Detective Branch
without waiting as long as I gave you tonight.”

“Got it.”

“Sleep tight, Meagan.”

“You too.” I ended the call, swallowing back emotion. It seemed lately all I did was
cry or stifle tears.

Chapter Twenty-One

Friday started out like any other day. I worked. I talked to my boss and my clients.
I made the most of my weird exercise plan. Ate breakfast and lunch. Showered.

And then all hell broke loose.

I glanced at my phone when it rang, seeing that it was Cheyenne. She probably wanted
to know if I would meet at Sky for drinks. We did that often on Friday nights. I hadn’t
spoken to her or Amy all week, so they knew nothing of my whereabouts or the problems
I had. Unless Parker didn’t keep my secret.

I answered as cheerfully as I could, planning to tell her I had to work late and my
head was pounding to put her off for the weekend. Before I said anything, heavy breathing
startled me. And then a deep voice I would never forget. “Meagan Hollister.”

I stopped breathing, my face falling, my body frigid.

“Cat got your tongue, bitch?”

I still didn’t speak. How did he have Cheyenne’s phone?

“Don’t feel chatty? Well, I do. So I’ll talk, and you can listen. I have your friend.
She’s a pretty little thing too. And she smells fantastic. Money will do that.”

Fuck. Fucking goddamn it. This was not a scenario I had ever run over in my mind.

“So, here’s how this is going to work. I assume you’re in Charlotte. I’m in Atlanta
with your girl. I’ll give you four hours to get your ass here, and then I’ll call
with further instructions. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going or even that you’re
leaving town. Go straight to your car and drive like hell to get here in less than
four hours. If you aren’t in town when I call again, I will take out your disobedience
on this sweet girlfriend of yours.

“I’ll start by tying her to the bed, stripping her naked, and fucking her rich cunt
until she likes it. Am I clear?”

I swallowed through the lump in my throat, unable to move a muscle. I wasn’t sure
my heart was still beating.

“
Meagan
,” he shouted. “Have I made myself clear? You’re wasting time.”

“Yes,” I managed to mutter as I spun around, grabbed my keys and my purse, and ran
for the door. I had my tennis shoes on, thank God. And I’d put on Jeans and a sweatshirt
that morning also. That was it.

“If you call the cops, she’s dead. If you don’t show up, she’s dead. I’ll probably
fuck her no matter what you do, so we don’t need to discuss that. But you will follow
my instructions and trade your life for hers if you want her to ever see the light
of day again.” He hung up.

I was already running down the stairs two at a time. From the fifth floor, that would
take me a few minutes, but standing in the elevator hadn’t been an option.

I ran into the parking garage and got in my car. It took me three tries to start the
engine with my hands shaking so badly. I even dropped my keys on the floorboard once.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” I looked in the rearview mirror and backed out. The drive was
longer than four hours. If I was lucky, there was no traffic, and I didn’t get pulled
over, I would be cutting it close.

Nothing mattered except saving Cheyenne. She had to be scared out of her mind. I kicked
myself for never having told her anything about this fucking asshole. It would be
nice if she at least understood what was happening. Then again, there was a good chance
Swarth made it all crystal clear when he took her.

Where would he be holding her?

Shit.

Fuck.

I tapped the steering wheel so hard for so long, my fingers hurt. What the fuck was
I going to do? I ran through every possible option while I drove like a bat out of
hell.

I couldn’t call Parker or Branch. If I did, Swarth would kill Cheyenne. I was certain
of that fact. He would not mess around. Swarth had held this grudge for fifteen years.
He didn’t waste a moment of time when he got out on parole, either.

There was never any hope of my survival. He wouldn’t stop until he got his revenge.
And he wouldn’t care if he took Cheyenne in the process.

Nope.

I had to get my ass to Atlanta and face the man. All I could do was hope he really
did free Cheyenne in the process.

I considered the possibility I could kill him. It wasn’t out of the question. Though
I didn’t relish the idea, and there was no guarantee he would let me near him with
a gun. My spare weapon of choice was in the glove compartment. The one in my bedside
table wasn’t going to be of much use, but the Sig Sauer 9mm in the car would kill
just as well.

Since when was I a killer?

Since a fucking asshole is holding your friend, threatening to rape her and then kill
her
.

I pushed on the gas, speeding up. Every time I glanced in the rearview mirror, I was
relieved to find no cops. It was a miracle I hadn’t been stopped yet. I didn’t have
a clue what I would do or say if I got pulled over. I needed to slow down. But that
was also a bad choice.

My phone rang. I glanced at it on the passenger seat when it lit up. Detective Branch.
He would be checking in. I considered answering it and pretending everything was okay,
but he would hear the car running. So, I changed my mind. I could always say I had
been in the shower later when I had the opportunity to call him. Maybe at a gas station.
I glanced at my gas gauge. Plenty. Thank God. No stops.

Two minutes later, my phone rang again.
Parker
.

Also not shocking. He had a habit of checking in every afternoon. It was almost two.
Maybe he would buy the shower line also.

Who the fuck was I kidding? The chances of me ever speaking to either man again were
slim. I wouldn’t answer them while I was driving. I had no choice here. There was
no way I could keep calm and lie my way out of this if I took one of their calls.
Where would I say I was going? They both knew I wasn’t supposed to leave my apartment.
Parker didn’t even know where that was. Branch would send someone over to check on
me, but only to find me gone.

Or if there was any merit to Parker’s assessment, maybe Branch would go check on me
himself. Same result.

Tears ran down my face. Even though I knew I couldn’t see Parker ever again, I didn’t
want it to be because I was dead. I felt horrible for what he would go through when
he found out what I had done. All that mattered was saving Cheyenne’s life. If there
was even a slim chance I could convince Michael Swarth to set her free, I had to take
it. His beef was with me, not with her.

Hopefully he would hold up his end of the bargain and make the trade.

Hopefully he didn’t hurt her or rape her in the meantime. I didn’t want her to live
with that burden.

My hands were tied. If I could turn off my phone and ignore the incoming calls, I
would. But I had to be diligent and ready when Swarth called.

So I kept driving. And I kept crying silently.

I hit the perimeter of the city in three hours and forty-five minutes, breathing a
sigh of relief that I’d done so before he called. By then, my phone had recorded at
least five messages from Parker and Branch. Dozens of calls had gone to voice mail.
And there were more texts than I could read in an hour probably. I hadn’t looked at
any of them. It would change nothing and only serve to make me sad.

At precisely four hours, the phone rang again.

Cheyenne’s phone.

I hit the hands-free button on my steering wheel to connect the call. I had rehearsed
what I would say so many times, it was written in my head permanently. “I’m here.
Put Cheyenne on the phone so I know she’s okay.”

“Fuck you, bitch. You’re not calling the shots. And just for thinking that you can,
I’m going to make your girl suffer. You want to hear her voice? Fine.” Silence reigned
for a few seconds, a deafening sound that made my skin crawl.

When I heard the scream, I stopped breathing. “Stop,” I screamed. “Oh my God. Stop.
I’m here in the city like you asked. Leave her out of this. Tell me where to meet
you, and I’ll go there. You can trade me for her.”

“That’s right, bitch. Don’t fucking get any ideas, either. If I find out you called
the cops, I’ll kill her slowly while you watch and then cut you to pieces until you
bleed to death. It’s what you deserve.”

“You’re right. I do. So, tell me where to meet you and let Cheyenne go. She hasn’t
done anything to you.”

“Do you think I give a fuck what she’s done? I never did anything to you, either.
And Matt certainly didn’t. But you fucking shot us both, didn’t you? And Matt died
because you’re an entitled rich bitch.”

“Yes. You’re right.” I needed to agree with him. Anything to keep Cheyenne alive.
“Tell me where to meet you,” I repeated. I needed to get this moving faster. The longer
he held Cheyenne, the higher the chances he would kill her. I wanted her out of there.

“Drive toward your old neighborhood in Gwinett county. You know, the one you spent
your childhood hiding in. I’ll call you back in fifteen minutes with more instructions.
Don’t fucking call the cops, bitch. You know I will kill this cunt in a heartbeat.”
He hung up.

I was shaking more than I had been in the first four hours. My adrenaline pumped so
hard, it was a wonder I didn’t drive straight off the overpass and careen into the
traffic below.

I got off at the next exit, turned around, and headed back toward the home I’d lived
in from the age of ten. The place where I indeed had hidden from the world. The perfect
middle-class neighborhood. Unassuming. Quiet. How long had he known I was there? I
shuddered to think he had people watching me grow up.

My phone rang with more frequency. I ignored it every time, though I had to glance
at every call to make sure it wasn’t Swarth.

I wondered about Riley. Did he know Cheyenne was missing? It was dinner time. She
would be getting off work. If Swarth grabbed her on her way to work or from the house
she shared with Riley after he left in the morning, it was possible no one knew yet.

That relieved me. Whether it was true or not, I preferred to think Riley wasn’t pulling
his hair out with worry all day while I was driving to the meeting point to make the
trade.

What were the chances Swarth killed us both and didn’t release Cheyenne? Pretty high.
But I refused to think about it. There was nothing I could do to change anything if
he did. I had to take this chance and pray he released her.

I took the last turn into my parents’ neighborhood, grateful they were in Florida.
This was why I’d insisted they leave. If they’d been in the house, I had no doubt
Swarth would have taken them hostage instead.

That thought made me swallow back bile. Which was worse? My parents or my best friend?
I couldn’t think about it. There was no way to change the outcome.

I pulled into the small parking lot next to the park where I’d played with Amy on
the jungle gym more afternoons than I could count. We’d grown up a few houses from
each other. We’d met Cheyenne in college seven years ago.

Would Swarth have taken Amy instead if she hadn’t been living in Nashville? Hell,
how long had he been following my friends? It made me cringe to think he’d kept tabs
on my family and friends for years from behind bars.

I jumped when the phone rang again and picked it up to talk into the receiver directly
this time. “I’m at the park on Walnut Street.”

“Good. Then all you need to do is drive to your old house. Don’t even think of pulling
anything stupid. You won’t live a moment if you do.”

“Of course. I’m not stupid.” I cringed when the words left my mouth.

He laughed hard, his tone menacing. “You’re the stupidest bitch I’ve ever met. They
teach you rich kids to be fucking stupid from birth apparently. Just get your rich
ass here now. You have one minute before I cut a hole too big to stop the bleeding
in your girl’s belly.” He hung up.

I hit the gas and drove far too quickly around the corner, praying I didn’t encounter
a kid crossing the street anywhere. It was only a few blocks. Plenty of time.

When I pulled into my driveway, I was surprised to find no car out front. There was
no evidence that anyone was there. Would he have lied to me and sent me on a wild
goose chase?

I tucked my gun in the back of my jeans and pulled my sweatshirt over the bulge. It
was a gamble, but I needed to retain the possibility that I could get a shot in. I
exited the car, my legs shaky from stress and not walking for four hours. I needed
to pee too. But that was the least of my concerns.

I used my keys to open the front door and stepped into a silent house that didn’t
appear to be disturbed. “Hello?” I asked as I shut the door and locked it behind me.
I pulled my gun from my waist and held it ready at my side.

No one responded.

I walked through the entire upstairs, opening every door slowly, finding nothing.

No evidence of a struggle. Nothing out of the ordinary. I’d been scammed.

My phone rang in my pocket, and I pulled it out and answered it immediately. “I’m
here, right where you said to be in plenty of time. Release Cheyenne. She’s nothing
to you. I’m sure you have a plan. I’ll do whatever you want.”