Bitten (Once Bitten, Twice Shy #1)(39)

She'd have to get him away from it.

The blonde man smiled as she closed the door behind her, assuring Katherine that he couldn’t sense that anything was amiss.

“You can do this,” she reminded herself under her breath before striding up to Caleb as confidently as she could manage. She walked halfway across the parking lot with him before she began her quickly improvised act.

She stopped and started patting her pant pockets anxiously. "Caleb, I forgot my wallet!"

The man’s brow wrinkled in bewilderment. He laid a concerned hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Bastian would never expect you to pay for anything."

"I know," Katherine quickly agreed, hoping she sounded appropriately distressed, "but I wanted to pay for breakfast. It – It'll make me feel less helpless."

Katherine could see Caleb's eyes soften in sympathy and for a second, shame assaulted her. But like she did with so many others feelings, she pushed the uncomfortable emotion away.

"I’ll go get it for you," Caleb offered. Just as she knew he would.

Katherine nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

She waited until he disappeared back into the room before making a mad dash towards the SUV. She fished the keys out of her pocket and quickly pressed the unlock button. She hoisted herself up, immediately relocking the doors behind her. Then she took half a minute – though to her frenzied mind it seemed closer to ten – to adjust the seat so that her petite feet could at least touch the massive pedals.

She had just shoved the key into the ignition and revved the engine to life when Caleb stepped out of the motel room – confusion etched onto his face. He obviously hadn’t been able to find her wallet, but how could he? It had been in her pocket.

Katherine met his eyes from her seat behind the vehicle’s protective windshield. For a second, he didn’t seem to register what was happening. Then she watched as panic warped his face. He made a move towards the BMW but before he could reach the car, she jerked it into reverse and peeled out of the parking lot.

It wasn't until she had maneuvered out of the small Canadian town – Linburg, it was called – that she could feel her heart’s rapid pace begin to slow.

But she didn’t feel as relieved as she thought she would have to be out of the pack’s company.

In fact, she felt positively heavy with guilt. She felt terrible – like she’d betrayed the only person who had been unwaveringly kind to her throughout this entire, horrid ordeal. Would Bastian blame Caleb for letting her escape? Would he punish the man for losing his hostage?

Had she truly been a hostage in the first place?

They'd never hurt her.

...

What in the hell was she thinking?

Of course she had been a hostage! Who cared about Bastian? Or Caleb? Or what the former would do to the latter when he discovered she'd gotten away? She shouldn't be picturing Caleb or Bastian or – oh Jeez, Markus – in her head. She should be thinking about her sister – Samantha – and how happy she'd be to see that Katherine was okay. How they'd hug and cry and... talk about mom and dad.

Katherine could feel the moisture begin gathering in her eyes, but she stubbornly rubbed out the tears before they had a chance to fall.

She spent the next hour trying – and failing – to replace the picture she had in her head of Bastian's face with Samantha's. When nothing she tried worked, she spent the remainder of the trip trying not to think at all.

It was, perhaps, the longest twelve hours of her life.

By the time she finally reached Duluth, it had long since turned dark. Her hands were shaking with exhaustion as she crookedly parked in her sister’s driveway – it was curiously empty.

Katherine only took a moment to stare up at the dark house before stumbling out of the vehicle and up the front steps. It was raining, but she cared very little about how quickly her clothes became soaked or how wet strands of her hair immediately began clinging to her face and neck.

She pounded on the door. "Samantha!"

The yell came out hoarser than she would have liked.

"Samantha!" she tried again, pounding harder.

No lights came on in the windows. Silence – the too quiet kind that sent chills through her body – was the only response to her hollering.

"Sam!" she cried, her fists growing more desperate as they hit the wooden door. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

"Sam!" Thwack.

"Sam!" Thwack. Thwack.

"Sa-am!" She choked halfway through her sister's name, something that felt a lot like panic restricting her lungs.

"Sam!" she tried once more time before finally grabbing the door's brass knob and tugging. It was locked. She twisted and shook the thing, but the door wouldn't budge.

But she wasn't ready to give up – wasn't ready to accept that Samantha wasn't... that she wasn't home.

Katherine ripped the welcome mat off the steps, smashed the flower pot by the door and dug through the soil that stained the cement. She was trying desperately to find a spare key – praying that Samantha kept one somewhere.

And then lights came on.

But not the ones Katherine wanted to see.

It was the neighbor's bright lights that illuminated her form from across the yard. She froze as a man – she'd guess by his white hair that he was at least in his sixties – from next door stepped out onto his porch. He was peering at her suspiciously. "Hi there," he shouted over the pitter patter of the rain.