Page 1

PROLOGUE

Somewhere near Chicago…

Crystal DeWalt was going to die today. She felt that knowledge clear to her bones. And the worst part of all…

There wasn’t a single fucking thing she could do about it.

Gone were the moments of fighting against the binds keeping her arms tied around the long metal pole behind her. No more unproductive struggles that only caused her more pain.

Her bare, blood-soaked shoulders no longer worked to wipe away the tears streaming down her bruised and swollen cheeks because…what would be the point?

For the past three days, she’d done everything she could to break free from a madman’s clutches. And for the past three days, she’d unwillingly been the pawn of his sick and bloody game.

I’m so sorry, Mom. God, I’m so sorry!

More tears fell as she thought of her dear, sweet mother. Crystal had been six when she’d received her first never-take-a-ride-from-a-stranger talk. The sentiment was one that had been ingrained into her by a parent who’d only ever wanted her child to be safe.

Safe. Happy. Loved.

I know you love me, Mom. I’ve always known how much you love me.

A painful, throaty sob bubbled up to the base of her throat. But rather than cry like all the times before, Crystal peeled apart her dry and cracking lips, releasing a painfully loud and furious scream.

This wasn’t the way her life was supposed to go. Damn it, wasn’t the way her life was supposed to end!

Not that she’d given death or dying much thought. Why would she, when she had her whole life ahead of her? Or so she’d thought.

But the truth was, even if Crystal had stopped to ponder such a morbid question, there was no way in hell she would have imagined her final days being spent like this. Locked away in some sicko’s basement, her near-naked body covered in cuts from the bastard’s sharp knife.

She swallowed then winced, her parched throat raw and burning from her most recent scream. Her nostrils had become accustomed to the concrete room’s musty, moldy stench, but the one thing she hadn’t gotten used to—the thing that created as much fear as the man with the long, shiny knife—was the rusty drain in the floor between her legs.

Only Crystal didn’t think those were rust stains marking the white plastic drain cover. To her, it looked more like…

Blood.

Between the dark, taunting stains and the scuff marks along the concrete where her bruised and scraped bare feet lay, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she wasn’t his first victim. No, this man—this monster —had done this sort of thing before.

How many women had sat where she did now? How many other innocent lives had this asshole stolen?

Those questions were ones Crystal couldn’t possibly answer. All she did know, the one thing she was certain of, was that this room and her killer would be the last things she ever saw of this earth.

He would be coming back soon. She could feel it to her chilled and trembling bones. And when he did…

He’s going to kill me.

The inside of her chest felt painfully tight as her heart began beating even faster than before. Her watery gaze slid to the crude, open staircase to her right.

The basement’s drop ceiling prevented her from seeing the door at the top, but its telltale creak was a sound she’d come to dread more than death itself. Because when that door creaked, it meant the suffering was about to begin again.

Crystal closed her eyes, letting her head fall backward, carefully resting it on the pole holding her bound body in place. For what felt like the millionth time in three days, she mentally berated herself for being so uncharacteristically naive.

A freaking flat tire. That was it. That’s what had put this whole horrifying scenario in motion. Something that should have been a mundane annoyance had been the beginning of an end she hadn’t seen coming.

It was an ending she’d give anything and everything to change.

When the handsome man had first offered her a ride, she’d been relieved. Grateful, even. A few short miles later, when he sent those first hints of flirtation her way, Crystal’s appreciation had quickly turned into flattery.

I thought he was nice. He had seemed so nice. But he isn’t nice, and now… Now, I’m going to die.

A new wave of tears made their way past her damp lashes, the soul-crushing thought of her life being over continuing to haunt her terrified mind. Though she’d initially fought death with every cell in her body, the inevitability of her untimely doom was impossible to ignore.

No one knew where she was. She didn’t even know where the sick bastard had taken her. And without a way to break free or call someone for help, it was only a matter of time.

For the first two days, she’d been utterly terrified that the next jab of his knife would end her. Crystal had begged and pleaded and screamed for him to stop until her throat became raw and no sound could be made.

She’d even tried bartering with the son of a bitch, offering anything and everything she could think of if he’d agree to let her go free. Money. A vow of silence. The nauseating suggestion that she trade sexual favors for her freedom.

Crystal had tried all those things and more, but in the end, it didn’t matter. Her pleas for mercy had gone unanswered, and she was filled with an instinctual knowing that the next time he came back…

He’s finally going to kill me.

The thought wouldn’t leave her mind. It was like the words were on a terrifying cycle of rinse and repeat.

She looked down at the cool concrete beneath where she sat, the crimson puddle there much bigger than it had been the day before. It seemed odd, given her current situation, but Crystal felt her lips slowly lift into a ghost of a smile.

The knife-wielding lunatic had promised to return to her soon, and so far, he’d been a man of his word. So unless something happened and he decided to change his sick mind, all the pain, terror, and unimaginable suffering she’d experienced would soon be coming to an end.

Clearing her mind of the pain and terror that seemed to consume her every cell, Crystal used what time she had left to begin her silent goodbyes. A few more tears fell down her face as she mentally spoke to her mom—the sweetest mother a girl could ever ask for.

Next came her older brother, a man she’d loved to torment and tease. She prayed he knew it had all been in jest, and there wasn’t another man on the planet she loved or trusted more than him.

Using minutes she knew were so very, very precious, she said goodbye to the grandparents still walking among the living. To the ones who’d gone before her, Crystal silently asked for their help, praying they’d be ready and waiting to welcome her home.

There wasn’t a boyfriend or husband to say goodbye to, and Crystal had no one to blame but herself. The opportunities had been there, but her work had always come first. Focused and career-driven, her mother had once proudly called her. But she’d been focused on all the wrong things.

Money. Prestige. A big promotion and a fancy car. The upper-floor condo she’d only just closed on six months before.

Those were the things she’d spent the years of adulthood striving to achieve. Problem was that’s all they were. Things. And not a single one would be coming with her once she was dead and buried.

It took facing death in the eyes for her to truly realize all the wonderful things she’d missed out on. To see that love was the one and only thing someone could take with them to the great beyond.

And as she sat and waited for the inevitable to happen, she prayed those left behind would somehow know she’d spend eternity holding onto the love they’d so willingly shown.

It had been the ultimate gift, and one she’d taken for granted. A gift she wasn’t sure she deserved. But now that she was here, she?—

Crystal’s eyes flew open, and she held her breath.

What was that?

Her pulse spiked when a set of strong, heavy footfalls sounded from somewhere up above. Their rhythm was slow and methodical as they carried their maker closer and closer to the basement’s entrance.

The door’s ominous creaking came seconds later, the terrifying sound becoming deafening to her ears. A beam of light illuminated the wooden staircase, growing larger as the door was pushed all the way open.

Her veins filled with a rush of adrenaline, and her breaths grew shallow. Her body trembled with terror when a set of familiar boots came into view.

Crystal watched and waited, wanting to scream and howl at the unfairness of it all. Instead, she blinked away the sudden onslaught of tears and steeled herself for the inevitable.

This was it. The end was coming, and there wasn’t damn thing she could do to stop it. She could, however, fight back in another way.

The man who’d taken her got his rocks off by causing pain and fear. And while there may not be a way to avoid what was coming next, Crystal would be damned if the bastard felt an ounce of pleasure from her death.

A sense of calmness and peace fell over her like a comforting, protective blanket. The trembling that had once consumed her subsided, her fear replaced by a renewed sense of strength and determination.

She straightened her spine against the pole as best she could as the monster’s boots reached the bottom step. He didn’t pause on his way to finish off his prey but rather closed the distance in a few long strides.

Minutes later, when the long, sharp blade entered her body for the final time, she didn’t beg for mercy or cry out in pain. Instead, she forced her fading gaze to remain locked with the man who’d just killed her, and then…

She smiled.

Crystal held the defiant pose for as long as she could, refusing to make even the slightest of sounds. The murdering bastard thrived on her screams and cries of pain, and she’d be damned if she gave him a single second of pleasure while he used his knife to end her.

The world around her faded quickly as her weakened heart gave its very last beat. And when she died, Crystal did so with a sense of pride, knowing that—in the end—she hadn’t let the murdering bastard win.