Page 8 of Until Death Parts Us (Dysfunctional)
CHAPTER EIGHT
QUIN
I’m not sure how long it takes me to make it back to the cabin, but I move as quickly as I can without risking injury.
I grab the bag that holds most of the things we might need, but I can’t find the ammo for the guns. I search through the RV and through Kaspian’s bag, but I don’t know where he put it.
“Fuck it,” I say aloud, grabbing the bag and hoisting it over my shoulder as I rush back into the cold.
I try to avoid roots and sharp rocks, tripping a few times along the way. When I spot the flames of the fire, I slow down to quiet my steps.
When I get closer, I don’t see Kaspian in the same spot I left him in.
At first, I think maybe he’s just moved to a place with a better vantage point, but as I approach the tree he was behind, I notice the snow has been disturbed quite a bit, mud flicked onto the top of the pure white color.
Multiple footprints leave the area and lead to the cabin.
Air leaves my lungs in a whoosh. Something has happened to Kaspian.
He didn’t just impulsively walk to the cabin.
There was clearly a scuffle. Someone took him.
Someone took the person who means the entire world to me, and when I find them, they’re going to regret, with every fiber of their being, believing they had the right to do so.
I quickly scan the area, but there’s no one in sight. They must be inside.
I only waste enough time to remove my jacket, unzip the bag, and grab what I need before hooking it back over my shoulder and stepping out from the cover of the trees.
My feet carry me quickly across the snowy path, and I don’t take the time to be careful or plot out any ideas. Someone has my Kaspian, and I need him back.
I yank open the front door, a large hunting knife in my back pocket, rope wrapped around my arm, and the axe in my hand.
I drop the bag on the floor and scan the room. It’s free of people, but it’s littered with belongings that prove they’ve been here for a while.
There’s a doorway to the right and to the left. I make a quick decision to visit the former first, but before I get there, I hear a noise. I slow my steps and get close to the wall, listening to the sound of a man grunting somewhere down the hall.
My feet take me forward, inch by careful inch until I get to a half open bedroom door. When I peek inside, I see a man vigorously fucking a cock sleeve as he stands in front of the end of the bed.
I slowly set the axe down against the wall and then unravel the thick rope around my arm. Once it’s gripped tightly in my hands, I enter the room.
His grunts and heavy breathing keep him from noticing the slight creak in the floor when I step inside. My eyes scan the room, but he’s the only one in here.
Quickly, I stand at his back and bring the rope down in front of him, pulling back when it’s across his chest, effectively pinning his arms to his sides as I tie it behind him.
The sex toy falls to the ground as he gasps, his body going into fight mode. The pants around his thighs keep him from moving well, so I shove him forward until he’s face down on the bed.
I get to the side of him and push his head into the mattress, wanting to suffocate him. Wanting to hear him gasp and panic. I want to watch his body twitch and flail until he ultimately goes still.
But I need answers.
Leaning down, I whisper into his ear. “Do not scream or I will cut the vocal cords from your throat.”
I allow him a tiny amount of reprieve, and he shifts his head to the side and sucks in lungfuls of air.
“Where is he?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer. He only keeps sucking in deep panicked breaths.
“Fine,” I say, yanking him to his back while I remove the knife from my pocket. With my hand squeezing his face, I bring the tip of the knife to his flaccid cock. “How about we start here?”
His eyes widen, and he finally speaks. “No, no, no, no,” he chants, trying to scoot away. “Please.”
“Where is he?” I ask again.
“Who?” he questions. I move the knife to his balls. “Okay,” he cries. “Tim left a few minutes ago. I don’t know when he’ll be back.”
“Is anyone else here?”
“No,” he says, shaking his head, his eyes trained on my knife.
“Did Tim bring someone in here?”
“No. I don’t know,” he says, eyes brimming with tears. “I haven’t known him long. Whatever he’s into has nothing to do with me.”
“You have a phone?”
“Yeah.”
“Tim’s number in there?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
I lift the knife and then bring it down swiftly in his heart. His eyes widen, and his mouth falls agape, a small noise coming from his throat.
I twist the serrated blade before removing it, and then I look for his phone. I find it in the pocket of his pants and bring the screen to life. When it asks for a passcode, I simply hold it above the dead man’s face and wait for it to unlock.
In his text thread, I find Tim’s name and type out a quick message.
Need you to come back. Something weird happened.
I don’t get a reply, but I search the entire house for signs Kaspian was here. There’s no blood to be found. Nothing is knocked over to indicate a fight. There’s no evidence to suggest he was brought here at all, but I know he didn’t just disappear.
With the dead man’s phone in my pocket, I go outside and look around.
It’s then that I notice the disturbed snow.
It’s similar to what I found near the trees, but it travels around the side of the cabin.
I follow the trail until it leads me around back where a vehicle was clearly parked.
The tire tracks disappear between the trees. He’s been taken farther into the woods.
I rush back to where I left my jacket and put it on before grabbing my belongings from inside the cabin. Outside, I follow the tire tracks and hope they lead me to Kaspian.