Zoey 101: An Unexpected Encounter

Chapter 15

Zoey awoke at the sound of the guest room door creaking open. Yawning, she rolled over to her side. "Where’d you go?" she murmured, reaching up to wipe the sleep from her eyes.

Chase was nothing more than a dark silhouette in the doorway, and she smiled in the darkness, thinking of the incredible lovemaking that had lulled her into peaceful slumber. So much for giving up on him. Totally impossible, she realized now. She loved Chase Matthews too much to ever give up. She’d always loved him.

He didn’t say a word as he stepped toward the bed. She experienced a flicker of panic. Oh God, was he going to tell her this was a mistake again? Leave her the way he’d left two years ago?

She sat up slowly, pulling the sheet with her to cover her breasts, then said, "Chase. Come back to bed. Please."

Still he stood there, silent, nothing but a shadow in the darkness.

And then he stepped into a sliver of moonlight that sliced through the crack in the curtains, and his face was illuminated for one brief moment.

Zoey gasped.

Satan Kuyper. The man who’d murdered her parents was standing at the foot of her bed, holding a…knife. Oh God, it was the same knife in her painting. Same curved blade, same horrifyingly sharp tip. Fear streaked through her like a bolt of lightning, followed by a jolt of adrenaline that had her jumping out of the bed. Pain shot through her ankle, but she ignored it, knowing the pain Kuyper wanted to cause her was a thousand times worse.

"Don’t bother," Kuyper rasped, smiling at her. "You’re not going anywhere."

"Like hell I’m not," she shot back.

She eyed the door. Could she get to it? She was no athlete, but she was strong. Lifting heavy canvases did great things to a girl’s arms, and the self-defense classes she’d taken two years ago still resonated with her.

Careless of her nudity and ignoring the throb in her ankle, she charged forward. Kuyper was prepared for the attack, but like most men he assumed she’d go for the groin, which caused him to lower his hands and gave her the opportunity to unleash a right hook into his jaw. He grunted at the impact, and that second of surprise was all she needed to make it to the doorway.

Heart crashing against her ribs, she tore down the stairs, aware of Kuyper’s footsteps on her tail. Where the hell was Chase? What had Kuyper done to him? How had he—

Pain shot into her scalp as her hair was tugged from behind, nearly yanking her head from her body. Her ankle twisted beneath her, making her cry out in agony and sending her stumbling back against Kuyper’s chest.

"Where do you think you’re going?" Kuyper whispered, pressing his lips close to her ear. "I’m not finished with you, Zoey."

She pounded him with her fists, biting, trying to get out of his iron–solid grip. And when that didn’t work, she let out a scream that he quickly silenced by slapping his palm over her mouth.

Kuyper sounded annoyed. "Really, Zoey, stop struggling and accept your fate."

"Never," she hissed out, sinking her teeth into the hand he’d clamped over her mouth.

Kuyper swore loudly, then slapped her across the face, so hard her head jerked back. "I’m really going to enjoy punishing you," he spat out. "You and your family…nothing but goddamn trouble. Murdering bastards, the lot of you."

"My dad didn’t kill your daughter," she choked out.

Another backhand to her face. This one split her lip and brought the salty taste of blood into her mouth. "He butchered her on that operating table!"

Yanking her by the hair again, Kuyper dragged her into the kitchen, the steel blade of his knife pressed against her throat.

"A daughter for a daughter," he muttered, and though he was behind her and she couldn’t see his face, she could hear the smirk in his voice.

"You’re crazy," she whispered. "Certifiably cra—"

Twain lifted his arm and slammed the back of her skull with the handle of his knife. Right before she lost consciousness, she heard him say, "This is for you, Delia"