Chapter Twenty-seven

Emma

“Why?” My one-word question hung in the air.

It was at that moment when everything came together—everything: the anxiety of my escape, the shock of my kidnapping, and the terror of waking as I had with those men. Pulling my knees to my chest, I ignored the pain, wrapped my arms around my legs, and gave into the surge of emotion. My body convulsed as sobs brewed within me.

Hell, this breakdown was about more than what had happened today.

It was a week of being strong, of taking my life an hour at a time, and a day at a time. It was all too much and now pain had been added to the mixture. My chest heaved as I shed tears into the blankets.

I didn’t know how long my outburst lasted, but when I looked up, Rett was no longer across the room. He’d taken a seat on the edge of the big bed. With my nose and more tears running, I looked up. “Why does Kyle want me dead?”

With his thumb, Rett wiped one cheek and then the other before handing me a tissue.

“Thank you.”