I spit in his face. “No, you won’t. You want me. If you kill me, you can’t rape me.”

Besides, he’s got no free hands at the moment. It’s my turn to smile because he can’t hit me like this. If he lets go of one of my shoulders, I will fight.

“It’s not rape. You’re mine.”

“It is rape, you sick fuck. I will never let you rape me. Never. I hate your fucking guts. You ruined my life! You killed my parents!” I headbutt him, connecting with his nose, and blood starts to drip immediately. He recoils and one hand goes to his face.

I twist my body and draw up my leg, placing my knee between him and me, and then I kick him back. My fist connects with his ear and then automatically grabs for hair, but my fingers find the mask instead. I pull and this panics him. I pull harder, wanting to get that stupid mask off him even if I die trying. “Take it off, you coward! Take off your fucking mask.”

I rip it and he lets go of my other shoulder to try and stop me from removing his shield. I reach up and punch him in the face.

“You fucking bitch! I will kill your baby right now!” He regains control and pulls me up off the coffee table, then flings me down on the couch face first. I can hear his belt being unbuckled. “I’ll fuck it out of you, whore.”

“If you kill this baby,” I gasp through my labored breathing. “I’ll never be yours. Do you understand? If you kill this baby I will fight you until you kill me. I will never be yours!” I scream the last part and his whole body presses against my back. The weight of him makes it hard to breathe. Maybe he’ll suffocate me and this can all end for good right now?

“You don’t want to be mine,” he seethes into my ear. “You never did.”

“You killed my family, your freak! Why the fuck would I want anything to do with you?”

“They sold you!”

“No! You’re a lying asshole. You’re not even an original one, either.” I laugh this part out because it’s true. He’s a joke. His whole story is plagiarized from another case more famous than mine. “You’re a copycat! You’re nothing but a copycat. You think I never heard of the Black Hills kidnapper? How he took that little girl and kept her captive until she was grown up. Convinced her she was his wife and made her have his babies. You copied him and you didn’t even do a good job because you let me go. You’re weak and stupid.”

He goes still on top of me. “Is that what you think? That I let you go because I’m weak?”

A trap, Grace! It’s a trap. Say nothing!

“I let you go because you begged me for months.”

“Then why are you back? Just leave me alone!”

“Because, dear Daisy. You made me promise.”

“No!”

“Yessss,” he hisses back. “Yes. You were hysterical when I said I had to take you home. You cried, my little flower. You cried big fat tears and begged me to keep you.”

“No!”

“I tried my best to console you, but I had to drug you to calm you down.”

“That’s not how it happened! I fought you. I told you to kill me quickly, so I didn’t have to suffer.”

“You made me promise to come get you, Daisy. You made me promise that our love was true.”

“No, no, no! That’s not what happened!”

He gets up and walks across the room to the front closet. “I’ll prove it.” I just stare up at him. His mask is all crooked and there’s blood dripping down his neck from my retaliation. “I have you on tape, flower. I have it all on tape.”

He pulls out a shoebox and comes back to me. “Sit here.” He points to the couch.

I obey automatically. My mind is spinning. I know I was fucked up. I know I did agree to some things out of fear or brainwashing or whatever. But I didn’t want him to keep me. I wanted to be free. I did.

“Let’s watch it together, shall we?” He sits down on the couch and pulls out a video camera and some old tapes. The kind that go inside the camera and have to be played back.

I knew he taped me. I knew this.

But for some reason I had forgotten it.

Jesus.

What else have I forgotten?

Chapter Thirteen

“SHE’S not close. This feels wrong.”

“Well, Vaughn, we have to start somewhere. There’s a reason they never caught the guy, OK? He’s smart. He’s calculating. He’s a planner. But everyone makes mistakes. Everyone leaves a trail. He had to have contact with Grace at some point. So someone saw him. Maybe not with her, but someone knows this man. And it’s our job to whittle away at the clues until we find that someone.”

I look down at Felicity and realize she’s in charge here. Not me. Not Conner, who is back in California sifting through records trying to make the connection Felicity is referring to.

“So come on. This is the current 4-H office. We should be able to get the names of past leaders from them.”

We enter the nondescript cinderblock building on the county fairgrounds and Felicity takes over. She talks in hushed tones about Grace, only she calls her Daisy. The women in the office nod solemnly and even though they should put up a fight about handing over information, they don’t. Small towns make regulations up as they go when circumstances are extraordinary.

This situation is certainly that.

We leave thirty minutes later with one name. There’s only been two 4-H leaders in this county for the past twenty years, and one died last fall. So… one name to go on.

“It’s better than no names, Vaughn.”

I say nothing.

It takes us another thirty minutes to drive to the farm where this woman lives, and by that time my body is pumped with adrenaline and my leg is bouncing.

Felicity knocks on the door alone. My movie-star status is not helpful. It’s a distraction. So I wait in the car and watch Felicity pantomime her request. I can see her in profile, so I imagine her questions as her lips move.

Can you think of anyone suspicious? Can you remember anyone taking an interest in Grace… only I’m sure Felicity calls her Daisy since that’s what these people know her by.

I imagine all the ways in which this woman say no, and then Felicity is walking back towards the car.

Felicity gets in and starts the car and then turns to face me. “She gave me a lead.”