Carla Cassidy - Special Agent's Surrender

It was a nice room and there was a photo of the entire Grayson family hanging on the wall next to the dresser. She moved over to it and studied it.

Mr. and Mrs. Grayson stood together, looking happy and in love. They were dead now, killed in an airplane crash that had left their adult children alone.

The Grayson children all shared the trait of rich dark hair. Jacob stood with his arm around his sister, that charming devilish grin lifting his lips. All the Grayson men were drop-dead gorgeous, but they were also known as men who had humor in their eyes and a flirtatious smile on their faces.

Where was Brittany now? And where were the other women who had disappeared? There had been some speculation that one of the women had simply left town, but the others had seemingly vanished into thin air.

She moved away from the picture and turned off the bedroom light. Instead of getting into bed she moved to the window. It was a perfectly clear night, the moon a gigantic silver orb in the sky.

Her thoughts were momentarily consumed by the man in the next room. What had happened to Jacob Grayson? What had brought him to this cabin, living like a hermit with dark shadows bruising his eyes?

Something had happened to Jacob, something terrible, and she couldn’t help but be intrigued. She also couldn’t help but remember those brief moments when he’d held her in his arms. It had felt so safe and yet had held just a little bit of dangerous attraction.

And somebody out there in the darkness tried to kill you tonight . Once again the reality of what had happened slammed into her.

As she finally climbed back into bed, she prayed whoever it was wouldn’t find her again.

Brittany Grayson awoke suddenly, her heart beating frantically. She remained unmoving on the cot, eyes open to the utter darkness that claimed the shed or whatever structure they were held in.

How many days had it been? How many weeks or months? She’d lost track of the time that she’d been held captive. There were now four of them, four women held in jail-like cells. The last one had been brought in earlier in the week. Casey Teasdale had hung over her captor’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes as he’d carried her in and placed her on the cot in the fourth cell.

“Almost time,” he said to Brittany as he’d locked the door to assure Casey’s imprisonment. The ski mask he wore effectively hid all his features, making it impossible for Brittany to identify him.

He gestured toward the empty cell. “One more and then the real fun begins, and I’ve got a special woman in mind to fill that one. A pretty blonde who is a bit feisty and managed to escape me once. She won’t escape the next time.”

He’d whistled as he’d strolled out of the shed, leaving her with a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the building. One more and then the real fun begins .

One woman taken was a crime. Two had been a pattern and three made him a serial offender, but four was a collection. The monster who held them was collecting them like fancy figurines and she had a feeling once his collection was complete he’d take great pleasure in smashing his figurines.

She sat up, unsurprised to hear Jennifer’s sobs. Jennifer Hightower had been crying off and on since the moment she’d arrived.

Say something to comfort her , a small voice whispered inside Brittany’s head. But, as she reached inside herself for the right words she realized she had no more comfort to give.

For the first time since she’d been kidnapped she was without hope, her very soul had been depleted.

Initially she’d been so sure that her brothers would find her. She knew they’d move heaven and earth to find out what had happened to her. But with each day that had passed without rescue, her fear had grown stronger and now it was screaming like a banshee in her head.

Enough time had passed since her disappearance that her brothers probably thought she was already dead. Maybe they’d even stopped looking for her. She lay back down on the cot and squeezed her eyes closed. No, they wouldn’t stop looking, but she’d lost the hope that they might find her in time.

One more and then the real fun begins .

She knew in her gut that the real fun meant death to all the women that were in the cells.

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