She saw a stop sign ahead. She shifted slightly in her seat in an attempt to hide what she was about to do.

As he slowed the sedan, she inched her hand toward the door handle, grasped it and yanked.

The door didn't budge. Matt laughed and eased through the intersection without stopping. "Childproof locks, Avery. How stupid do you think I am?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Matt. I didn't__"

"Say good-night, Avery."

Before she realized his intention, he struck her in the temple with the butt of his gun. Pain jackknifed through her skull; in the next instant, she felt nothing at all.

CHAPTER 52.

Avery came to slowly. She ached all over; her head throbbed. Moaning, she opened her eyes.

She lay on a bed, she realized. A bare mattress. She tried to sit up but found she couldn't. Her arms had

been anchored above her head, wrists bound tightly. Her legs were tied to opposite bedposts.

Buddy, his confession. Matt picking her up. The gun.

Fear exploded inside her. Blinding, white hot. It stole her ability to think. To reason. With it came panic.

She fought her restraints, tugging and twisting, getting nowhere.

She stopped, wrists and ankles burning, breath coming in trembling gasps. Tears choked her. She fought them as well. She would not give in. She would not lie down and die.

They would not get away with this. She wouldn 't let them.

In an attempt to center herself, Avery closed her eyes. She drew in as deep a breath as she could and

expelled it slowly. Then repeated the process. She needed calm. Fear and panic bled her abil-

ity to think. To reason. She needed to be able to do both if she was going to escape. She opened her eyes, a semblance of calm restored. The only light in the room came from the open doorway to the right of the bed. The air was damp, heavy. It stank, the smell familiar, though she couldn't place it. The single window stood open. From outside came the sounds of insects, more dense than she was accustomed to.

He had taken her outside the city limits. She traveled her gaze over the room, taking in what she could from her prone position. Spare. Rough-hewn. A hunting cabin, she thought. At the edge of woods. Or along the bayou.

The same one Gwen had been lured to? Avery searched her memory. Gwen had said the junction of Highway 421 and No Name Road.

That would put her south of Cypress Springs. Not far from the old canning factory.

The sour smell, she realized. Of course. The same smell that rolled into town when the wind shifted to a northerly direction.

The stench of the burned-out factory.

Matt appeared in the doorway, a dark silhouette against the rectangle of light. "Rise and shine, beautiful."

"Untie me and I will."

She all but spat the words at him and he laughed. "Somebody wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"

"Bastard."

He sauntered across the room, humming the tune from the children's nursery rhyme "The Itsy-Bitsy

Spider." He reached the bed, bent and tiptoed his fingers up her thigh in time with the tune. She saw he had his gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. His fingers made the juncture of her thighs and stilled-the tune died on his lips. He cocked his head and gazed at her, expression curiously blank. "I'm sorry it's come to this, Avery. I really am."

"Then let me go, you psycho prick."

"Such language. I'm disappointed in you."

He climbed onto the bed and straddled her, placing a hand on either side of her head. The position

brought his pelvis into contact with hers. The butt of the gun pressed into her abdomen.

"You betrayed me, Avery. You betrayed us."

"Don't talk to me about betrayal. You killed my father!"

He laughed softly and trailed a finger down the curve of her cheek, then lower, across her collarbone to

her breast. "You always were too smart for your own good. Too opinionated."

He bent and kissed her. Lightly at first, then deeply, forcing his tongue into her mouth.

Avery fought the urge to fight and instead lay frozen beneath him. Her lack of response seemed to

frustrate him and he broke the contact.

As he did, she spit in his face. He jerked away, face flooding with angry color. Rearing back, he slapped her. Her head snapped to the side; she tasted blood and saw stars.

But she didn't cry out. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"You know what?" He curled his fingers around the neck of the T-shirt Cherry had lent her. "For a smart

girl you do some really stupid things."

He yanked the fabric so hard she came off the bed. The T-shirt gave, ripping from neck to belly button,

revealing her naked breasts. He covered them with his hands, squeezing tightly. "Like pissing off the guy who holds your life in his hands. And now, your breasts as well." He tightened his grip, pinching the nipples, twisting. She swallowed the whimper of pain that flew to her lips. He bent forward so that his face hovered just above hers. His stale breath stirred against her cheek.

Avery shuddered. If the eyes were the windows to the soul, he had none.

"You were supposed to be mine. I chose you. Not once, but twice. And you broke my heart. The first

time by leaving. The second by giving yourself to my brother." He laughed. "You look so surprised. How stupid do you think I am? I was suspicious that day at Tiller's Pond. Like a fool, I gave you the benefit of the doubt. After I found you at his place that morning, I knew."

She whimpered, thinking of Hunter. Of what she had gotten him into.

And what she had suspected him of.

Matt's mouth twisted into a thin line. "Did you think of me, Avery? While you fucked my brother? While

you betrayed-" He bit the words back, though he shook with a rage so potent the bed quaked with it.

He could kill her now, this moment.

He wanted to.

Avery shrank back against the mattress, losing her grip on her emotions. Fear became terror, rampaging

through her.

For the first time, her own death became a stark reality. She pictured it. Matt's hands around her neck,

squeezing and squeezing...being unable to fight him except with her frantic thoughts. Her silent screams for help.

Her fear seemed to calm him. He looked pleased. "I like you this way," he said softly, straightening.

"Helpless."

He moved his hands over her breasts, his touch changing from punishing to coaxing. He brought his hands to her waist, then curved his fingers around the waistband of her drawstring pants.

"Remember how it used to be between us?" he asked, trailing his fingers across her abdomen, dipping

them lower and dragging the fabric down. Revealing her belly button, then abdomen, the top of her

panties and pubic mound.

He bent and pressed his face to the vee, breathing deeply, making a sound of pleasure. "When we were together this way?"

Bile rose in her throat. She fought gagging.

"It was so good. Nobody's ever come close to making me feel the way you did. We were meant to be

together."