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Chapter 28

Peyton

The doorbell rang, and I woke up from my afternoon nap with a start.

I blinked blearily around the room for a moment, disoriented. Nobody had ever rung Rocky's doorbell the entire time I'd been there. I didn't know why, and I'd never even noticed it until that moment, but I honestly didn't think he had a doorbell.

Was it Nolan? Had he come to check up on me again? But he had keys, why would he—

Another chime of the bell rang out through the house, and I pushed my hair out of my face and grumbled as I stood. "Okay, Jesus, I'm coming…"

It rang again, extra annoyingly, as someone pressed it five or six times in quick succession, and I stumbled down the stairs clumsily to get to it.

"Uh, who is it?" I squinted sleepily through the peephole, catching a glimpse of blonde hair and a solemn black tie under a baseball cap, before a police badge flashed across my view.

"Jackson?" What the hell was he doing here? I lifted a hand and unlocked, my half-asleep brain still kicking into gear. But then, wait. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes with a frown. Should I really be opening?

The doorknob quickly turned beneath my still hovering fingers the second the lock unlatched, and Jackson pulled the door open on his own.

Only it wasn't the detective.

Zachary stood before me with a pleasant smile and tilted his head to the side. "Were you asleep, Peyton?"

I'd never come fully awake so quickly in my life. "Z-Zachary?"

"Sorry to wake you, love. You probably needed the sleep with all the stress you've been going through."

All I could do was stand frozen in shock as I stared at him. How the fuck did he know where I was? Why was he here? Should I run? What if he wasa freak and running triggered him into violence? I blinked, adrenaline suddenly rushing through me and putting me on high alert, but I noticed he had one hand in his pocket. If he was holding a gun in there, then I needed to be careful.

"I… I thought you were still a student?" I said, trying to keep my voice casual as I gestured towards the badge he still held loosely in his fingers. He only shrugged and slipped the badge away.

"I never said that."

His face remained calm and mild, but his eyes snapped to my feet when I took a step back.

"So you're a police officer?"

He smiled a little broader and stepped inside.

"Uh, Zachary," I said, my skin prickling with gooseflesh as I moved away, though I tried to plaster on a smile. "I don't think it's a good idea to come inside. Rocky said he was on his way home, he's actually just around the corner…" But my voice went quiet when he only shook his head, a look of gentle pity crossing his eyes.

"You don't need to be afraid of that man keeping you prisoner anymore," he said softly, and I took another step back, putting me in line with the small table that housed a heavy ceramic bowl where the keys were thrown. "That man should be halfway towards Reno by now. I'm here to rescue you."

"What the fuck?" I stared at him incredulously, unease and fear at his creepy countenance swirling through me. "How would you know that? How did you even know I was here?"

"You don't need to worry about that, Peyton," he said, his face earnest and his eyes wide as he took another step towards me. "But you need to come with me now. I—"

I grabbed the heavy bowl beside me and with a snarl, snatched up my car keys as I swung the ceramic as hard as I could with one hand into Zachary's stupid fucking temple. He stumbled sideways, falling to the floor with a shocked expression, and I shouted with anger and fear as I threw the bowl at his head and turned, sprinting for the back door.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" This guy was fucking nuts. I had to get out of here, away from his psycho ass.

"Peyton!"

I dashed through the kitchen, my heart in my throat as I grabbed at the back-door handle, unlocking it as fast as I could while still holding my keys, fear ripping through me and making my fingers tremble.

"Peyton, stop."

And then hands were around my waist, hauling me back. I screamed and stabbed my keys into the arm banded around me, kicking and reaching wildly for the glass cup I'd left on the countertop, anything I could use against him.

"Shh, it's alright," he half-grunted, half-whispered into my ear, pulling me further from the door. "I know you're scared, but—"

I smashed my head backwards, feeling my skull connect with a satisfying crunch against his nose, and his arm loosened just the tiniest bit. I hoped I'd broken his nose, I hoped I'd made himbleed, the fucker.

I headbutted him again, gouged my keys across the skin of his hand, pushing at his arm and kicking my feet to loosen his hold, and then a sickly-sweet smelling wet rag was pressed over my nose and mouth, and that was it.

That was it.

I screamed, my voice muffled but full of rage, and then there was nothing but blackness.

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