Chapter 13-Unraveling the truth

I could barely breathe. The man's grip on my arm was suffocating, his fingers digging into my skin like he meant to leave a mark.

"Let go of her!" Jace's voice was strained, panic rising in his chest as he tried to push himself up from the floor.

But the man didn't budge. He pulled me closer, his face inches from mine. "You've been a problem, haven't you? Both of you."

I tried to yank my arm free, but it was useless. His hold was too tight.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice shaking but defiant. "Why are you after us?"

The man didn't answer right away. Instead, he took a step back, assessing me like I was some kind of puzzle he was trying to figure out.

"You don't remember me, do you?" he asked, his lips curling into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

I blinked, confusion clouding my mind. "What do you mean? I don't even know who you are."

He chuckled darkly. "Maybe you will soon enough."

Then he turned, dragging me roughly toward the stairs. Jace rushed forward, but before he could take a step, the man held up a hand.

"Stay back, Carter," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't want to hurt her… but I will."

Jace stopped dead in his tracks, his fists clenched, his jaw grinding. "What do you want with us?"

The man didn't answer, but instead started moving toward the door, dragging me behind him. I tried to dig my heels into the floor, desperate to break free, but it was like trying to stop a moving train.

We were outside in seconds, the air sharp against my skin. The man threw open the door to an old van parked behind the cabin, and before I could make another move, he shoved me inside.

"Jace!" I screamed, my heart racing in fear. "Get out of here!"

Jace didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, trying to reach me, but the man was faster. He slammed the door shut, trapping me inside.

"No!" Jace shouted, banging on the window, his fists hitting the glass. "Let her go!"

But the man didn't care. He climbed into the driver's seat, starting the engine with a roar, and sped off down the dirt road, leaving Jace standing there, helpless.

The ride was a blur of speed and fear. The van bounced over the uneven road, every jolt making me feel like I was going to fly right out of my seat.

I glanced out the side window, trying to get my bearings, but everything was unfamiliar. We were miles away from the cabin, deep into the woods, and I had no idea where we were going.

"Where are you taking me?" I demanded, my voice hoarse.

The man didn't answer. He kept his eyes fixed on the road, driving faster now, like he was racing against something — or someone.

I pulled at the door handle, but it was locked. I had no escape.

Then, through the corner of my eye, I noticed something in the passenger seat — a folder, nearly identical to the one I had found at the cabin.

The folder was slightly open. My pulse quickened as I caught a glimpse of the contents.

Photographs. Names. A map. My heart skipped a beat when I saw one of the names.

Nicole Cross.

The van turned sharply, jerking me in my seat, and I looked up just in time to see an old building in the distance. It looked abandoned, hidden away from everything.

The man slowed the van and parked in front of the building. He turned off the engine, the silence after the roar of the engine almost deafening.

He climbed out without a word, slamming the door behind him.

I scrambled to the window, my heart hammering in my chest. I could see him walk up to the door of the building and knock twice. A moment later, the door opened, and two more men stepped out.

They spoke to him briefly, but I couldn't hear their words.

Then one of the men turned and glanced directly at me.

He knew I was watching.

The door opened again, and the man who had grabbed me returned. He yanked the door open, dragging me out.

I fought back, but it was no use.

"Stop struggling," he said. "You're only making this harder for yourself."

I was too scared to speak, too scared to do anything but follow him as he led me into the building.

Inside, the place was even darker than I expected. The air smelled damp, and there was a faint, unpleasant metallic scent lingering in the air.

We walked down a narrow hallway until we reached a door at the end. The man opened it, and I was shoved inside.

The room was small and windowless, lit by a single hanging light bulb. The walls were bare except for one large map pinned to the wall. The same map from the folder.

I felt my stomach twist in knots as I took in the details. There were lines drawn on the map, routes, and locations — all marked with a series of names and dates.

And one name stood out.

Nicole Cross.

Before I could process it, the door slammed shut behind me, locking me in the room.

I was trapped.