Page 44 of Fortune’s Control (Fortune’s Creek #1)

“The cabin? You’re taking me to Shane’s cabin?”

“Shut up, girl,” the detective said.

Nelson shoved me forward. Rather than catching my fall, I deliberately fell forward onto the gravel road. “Ow. My foot. I twisted it.” I sat up, cradling my right ankle.

“Nelson, pull her up. Let’s get inside.”

He yanked, forcing me to walk, so I groaned, playing up my limp. “Please slow down. I can’t run away.”

I hobbled the remaining steps into the cabin, telling myself every precious second of delay mattered.

“You better not be faking,” Detective Davis said.

All his friendliness had disappeared. His cold eyes bore a resemblance to his brother’s, but that’s where the physical similarities ended. They were also more than a decade apart, with Nelson closer to my age, and Davis in his forties. Or maybe being an asshole aged him.

“I’m not faking.” My genuine fear made the injury more believable.

After all this, I returned to the cabin Shane took me to when Davis’s partner called, but this time, I had no phone to reach Shane, and no one knew where I was.

I was faking, and I’d escape if the chance presented itself.

If Shane’s gator still swam in the creek, maybe it would eat the brothers.

They’d give the poor creature a stomachache.

My fear threatened, so I focused on Shane. What would he do? Keep playing for time and wait for an opportunity to arise .

The cabin’s cool air greeted me, and I shivered.

“We aren’t alone. I’m pretty sure people are in the other cabin.

” It wasn’t true, but it may gain me some time.

It might send one of them away so I could escape, or at least delay whatever they planned.

The presence of both men, with their cruel eyes and determined jaws, threatened to overwhelm me.

Nelson wore the same expression when I first saw him, right after he killed Sandy. My fear excited him, turning me into a sick child’s toy for his entertainment. He stroked my cheek, and I flinched. “My brother checked, so we know there isn’t anyone here.”

“He booked it this morning. I heard him speaking on the phone.” My lungs fought to breathe.

I pictured Nelson Davis in my head so many times, threatening me or stalking me, a formless shadow who lived to spread terror.

His presence, now so close, with his breath on my skin, and the gentle touches, repulsed me.

I jerked back, and he smiled.

The detective used his gun to direct me to the rocking chair. I sat and absorbed the comfort that Shane’s mother’s quilt offered.

“Nelson, go check it out. Hurry, and don’t let them see you.”

He glared at me, wanting to protest, but kissed my forehead before leaving. I felt the wet remains of his lips on me.

“Why are you doing this? You’re supposed to save people.”

Davis stooped, smiling into my face. “I’m saving my brother.

Isn’t it obvious? Sandy Cooper had a restraining order against her ex, and fortunately, he bore a strong resemblance to Nelson.

Almost twins, aren’t they? All I needed to do was place DNA at the scene, and for you to shut the hell up.

The poor idiot would take the fall, and my brother could go back to his playtime. ”

If he’d indulged me at the beginning and conducted a pseudo-investigation, I’d have believed him and left it alone. Davis placated me, which only fed my doubts. I swallowed. “I didn’t know he was your brother. You should have told me.”

“Do you think I’m dumb, girl?”

He’s supporting a criminal. What should I say? “I’m sorry.” My shoulders and chest caved in from visible defeat.

“Very wise. You finally understand.”

I jumped as Nelson slammed the cabin door shut behind him. “She lied. That place is emptier than the last girl’s eyes once I finished playing with her.”

The detective approached me, squatting down close so I could smell his grotesque onion breath. “Lie to us again, and I’ll let my brother have his fun instead of giving you a quick death.”

Nelson closed the window blinds, turning the small cabin into dusty shadows. “Hurry and ask what you want.”

I blinked, struggling with the sudden loss of light.

Davis grabbed a metal chair and dragged it across the gray tile, causing me to cover my ears.

All I needed to do was survive long enough to be found. Shane’s last message put him only minutes behind me. He would check the house in the same methodical way he’d done after the ransacked apartment and Pirate’s escape.

“Who else saw those pictures of yours?” Davis asked.

“No one.” His indifferent backhand struck. I jerked and blinked, trying to understand what had happened. “You hit me.” It settled into a dull throb as the swelling took hold. “No one’s ever hit me before.”

“Let’s try this again. Who else saw those pictures?”

I struggled to focus. My ringing ears made a decent lie impossible. “Shane.” They wouldn’t believe a different answer, not after our many phone calls or that disastrous meeting at our house. “Shane saw them.”

I winced, waiting for the inevitable slap or punch, but it didn’t come.

“That’s a start. Who else?”

Everyone. My mother and Evelyn. Sophie, too.

I couldn’t give their names, as they’d be even more defenseless.

Shane knew to look for me. All I needed to do was stall.

After weeks of terror, I had no intention of letting these freaks kill me.

Not today. Not after Fortune’s Creek and Shane, and everything else.

Forgive me. Please forgive me. “His friend, Jack. But he doesn’t know the latest update since he left to visit his parents, who live in Miami.”

“No, don’t think you’ll get away with that. After all your sniffing, there’s more.”

“The county sheriff.” The only other name that occurred to me, and he’d expect to hear it. “Shane handled most of it, so I don’t know who we spoke to. They filed a report, but without a name, there was nothing to do.”

“What about my partner?”

A slim hope flickered in me. “Your partner never listened to me. He doesn’t believe me at all.”

“Did you tell him anything about your photos or video?”

We told Wilson Skane’s lawyer everything and provided him with the video.

Davis doesn’t know that, I realized. He believed we had told his partner, and Moore was on to him.

How could I use that? “I tried speaking to him, but he told me to stay in Fortune’s Creek and hung up on me. He said I wasted his time.”

“Matty, you had your turn, and now it’s mine.” Nelson shoved his brother back. “I’m the one who found her, didn’t I?”

Matty? Detective Davis was Detective Matthew Davis? A mundane name for a man who aided his serial killer little brother.

“You idiot. You found her because I told you where she was.”

“I spoke to her mother.” Spittle flew from Nelson’s mouth. “Useless dumb bitch couldn’t even give me an address. She kept telling me to keep her daughter safe.”

“You can’t kill her until we know everything. Do you get that?”

“You heard her. No one knows it’s me, and there’s no one to connect me to Orlando or the ones in Savannah and Birmingham. We kill her, and this case goes away. The other witnesses bought the story, so we’re in the clear. I promised to stay out of Atlanta after this, didn’t I?”

“You idiot. She’s listening to us,” Davis said.

I rushed to defend myself. “No one knows about Savannah or Birmingham.” I regularly fumbled for words, and now my stupid mouth couldn’t shut up.

Another blow to the other cheek, and they returned to their arguing.

Throughout my time in Fortune’s Creek, I wondered how Nelson found me, and never once suspected Detective Davis. Bile rose in me over my naivety. I blamed my mother, accusing her of putting a killer on my doorstep when she’d given them nothing.

Running away didn’t work when the person hunting you knew everything. I doubted my intuition and myself because of these men. My anger grew as I fought against my fear. “Why did you put pictures under my front door?” My froggy voice sounded wrong, like it belonged to a stranger.

“What pictures?” Davis looked at his brother. “ What did you do?”

Nelson raised his hands, palms out. What happened to his knife? I cast about, hoping to find it. If their fight grew, it could be my chance.

“He took pictures of me after the murder. I didn’t believe in Wilson Skane’s innocence until I found them.”

“I tried to scare her a little.” Nelson cackled and shrugged his shoulders. “Stop the killing, isn’t that what you told me? I’d get caught, and you wouldn’t protect me.”

“If that’s true, why did you threaten me?” I tried again. “You said I was next, right after killing poor Sandy. Your voice differs from his. I finally figured it out. You two look alike, but Wilson Skane doesn’t have your accent.”

Davis shoved his face into mine again and let out a puff of breath. The rancid smell filled my nostrils, and I choked. “Who did you tell about my brother’s voice?”

I blanked. “No one. I didn’t figure it out until you showed up.

” My voice quivered. “I remembered Sandy arguing with her ex-boyfriend once and asked about him.” Who did I tell about the voice difference?

Shane knew, didn’t he? Did I notice before and forget?

If that happened, Shane might remember and figure it out.

“Did you tell my partner?”

“Detective Moore?” Dread filled me because this question had a correct response. Answering him would trigger them into killing me, or… what?

If I stayed, they would kill me. I’d known that since leaving Atlanta, even without a name or motive.

Enough time had passed, so Shane knew they had me.

He’d get help for Aiden, who tried to protect me, and then he’d track me down, but that required time I didn’t have.

He’d alert the local sheriff and every person in town to find me .

None of that mattered, though, because they would kill me first, which meant I needed to free myself.

I lifted my right leg, crossing it over my knee. Nelson licked his lips and pressed a hand to my thigh. My skin crawled from his finger’s insect-like touch. “My ankle is twisted. I’m not sure I can walk anymore, so you’ll have to carry me.”

They both laughed, and I knew what that meant.

“You could use me as a hostage.” The words fell out of my mouth without any thought. A hostage for what?

“Are we done talking now?” Nelson’s knife appeared back in his hands. He fingered the tip and glanced at me. “You promised I could do this.”

“Not here. Outside, so we can dump the body in the river. Then I go back to Atlanta, and you disappear, like we planned. Take a break, Nelson. I can’t protect you if there’s another one.”

“Now. There could be people outside,” Nelson screeched, not responding to his brother’s cautious words.

“You said the other cabin was clear.” Davis raised his voice at the end.

“I lied. Who cares?”

Their fight escalated, and one tiny moment at a time, I lifted my body from the chair. My lungs and heart stopped as I planted both feet on the ground and waited. Neither glanced in my direction.

Nelson slashed at his brother, who dodged the knife. Sensing my chance, I leaped up and ran for the door.

I managed a few steps before someone slammed into me, and a whistle stopped their argument.