“Okay, so that leaves some options,” Declan conceded. “They either took a different route, which we’ve already decided is a no-go, switched vehicles, or—”
“Stopped to take the magnetic floral delivery logo off the van between here and there—” Ivan interjected.
“Or something else happened to deter their arrival at the Inn.”
Declan’s final point was the one Ivan dreaded most. And his gut said it was the most obvious of the three theories.
“Any reports of an accident on this stretch involving a van matching that description?” he asked either man.
It grated that he couldn’t check for himself. If he had time to stop and use the tablet resting on the passenger seat beside him, he’d have an answer in less than a minute.
But Cera didn’t have the time it would take for him to pull to the shoulder, and if he wrecked because he was looking at his screen instead of the road—especially in this damn snow—he wouldn’t be of any use to her.
And she was what mattered. She wasallthat mattered.
Ivan slowed his vehicle to prepare for the upcoming curve he knew was there. Carefully scanning the snow-covered road for signs of a wrecked or abandoned van, Ivan willed Cera to survive long enough for him to find her.
Because he would find her…or die trying.
You’ve gotta hold on for me, sweetheart. Please. For me. For us. I’m coming for you, Cera. And I will find you.
* * *
Bone-chilling shivers wrackedCera’s body as she tried—and failed—to jerk her arm free from Dr. Randall’s painful grip.
She’d already fallen down several times, thanks to the thick blanket of new snow. And with no coat or other protection against the freezing cold air or damp precipitation, she was less than an hour away from full-on hypothermia.
Maybe you should’ve thought about that before driving the van into the ditch. On purpose. In the middle of a freaking snowstorm!
Okay, fine. Her current situation was a direct result of her hare-brained idea to wreck the van as an attempt to escape. But as she’d seen it at the time, it was her only way out.
Cera had been driving away from the city—away from Ivan—with that damn gun pointed at her. She’d been forced to listen to the man who’d been her most trusted medical professional for the past eleven years go on and on about why he’d tried scaring her into moving back home.
She couldn’t believe the lengths his screwed up mind had gone to, to convince him his actions were purely justified. How it was his job to protect her, and that she was like a daughter to him.
How—while she’d been under hypnosis during one of their earlier sessions at the mental institute—he’d had no choice but to insert a surgically-implanted microchip programmed to track her every movement. Because he cared about her and needed her to understand it was for her own good.
But Dr. Randall’s shocking confession only reminded her that there were worse things than death.
But she hadn’t been trying to kill herself—or Dr. Randall, for that matter—when she’d run the van off the snow-covered road. Cera also hadn’t meant to hit the tall, majestic pine tree in the process, rendering the vehicle immobile.
She was just…
I was just trying to survive.
Not only because she didn’t want to die. Because she wanted tolive.
If there was anything these last few days with Ivan had taught her, it was that surviving wasn’t enough. Cera wanted more. She wanted it all…
Life. Happiness. Love.
She wanted those things with Ivan, and the only way she could see that happening was to escape Dr. Randall’s menacing grasp. So she’d used the winter storm and sharp curve to her advantage, pretending to lose control of the van in hopes of being able to get away.
Unfortunately for her, the storm picked up at almost the exact same time, hindering her attempts to run for help and safety.
In her defense, between the days spent trying to find her stalker—A.K.A. Dr. Fucking Randall—and the nights filled with mind-blowing sex, she’d kind of forgotten about the incoming storm. Plus, when Dr. R. had been leading her out of the suite at gunpoint, warmth and winter protection hadn’t exactly been at the forefront of her mind.
So she’d come up with a plan while driving them out of the city. It had been a calculated risk, but one Cera had felt compelled to take.