Page 109 of Burning for You

“Love Bug…” I whisper. The name has never caught on me, until now. Alone in this wilderness, it sounds comforting.

Jesse was right. The photos were all Zac’s manipulation. Carolyn wouldn’t have the capacity for such lies.

Rumors.

Press.

Albert.

I’ll have to learn to deal with them, because I won’t be able to deal with living without Carolyn. My destination would be worse than rehab.

My chest warms thinking about what I’ve planned for her. When she arrives, I’ll pick her up as a taxi driver, just like I had when I’d kidnapped her. But instead of using a tranquilizer gun, I will rush her to East Yellowstone blindfolded, and then guide her through the back country. I will force her to lie down under a Rocky Mountain maple and then strip her, and devour her mercilessly.

“She hijacked you here, Grudge,” I say to my horse as I tie him up in front of the shed where Carolyn spent her first night in Random Valley.

As I make my way to the outdoor shower, my phone beeps.

We don’t usually get reception here. But perhaps the new cell tower has made a difference. Even the reception around the ranch has improved too, which is timely, as the landline in the house has gone bust.

My tight jeans pocket keeps me struggling to fish out my phone. When I see who the text message is from, I thank technology for saving my soul today.

I open the text.

I’m sorry, Levi. I won’t be coming. Let’s talk when you’re back.

It might as well be a rock smashing onto my head. I’m conscious, but I feel dead.

I immediately dial her, but my call goes straight to her voicemail.

Hi, it’s Carolyn Meyer, please leave a message.

That tantalizing voice. I miss it. I desperately seek for her denial of all the things Zac Moss has put forward.

“Carolyn, please call me back. If there’s anything wrong, please tell me. Please. I love you.”

I plod around the shed, over and over, trying to deal with a force that’s about to blow out of my gut.

About half an hour later, a call back.

“Carolyn?”

A man answers.

“Who’s this?” I say.

“Levi? It’s Anton Mendez.”

My blood boils.

“Let me talk to Carolyn.”

“I’m afraid she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Let me talk to Carolyn!’

“We’ll talk when you’re back in New York.”

“What have you done?” I say. “You stay away from her. She’s mine!”