Standing there, at her door, was someone she never expected.
"Hello, sweetheart," Derek's grin stretched across his deceitfully handsome face. It hit Susan like a punch to the gut she hadn't expected to see him, and before she could react, he shoved her into the apartment, slamming the door behind them. Her thoughts scrambled, mind failing to process anything.
"You look good," he commented, his eyes glinting with malice, dragging her back into the moment.
"How… how did you?" she began, voice trembling.
"I got an anonymous tip," he said, pulling out a photo of her and Chris. His chuckle was low, dangerous.
"I can't believe you ran from me for this weakling."
Before she could respond, the back of his hand cracked against her cheek. He gripped her face tightly, fingers digging in.
"You will pay for making me look for you," he hissed.
"You ungrateful bitch!" He shoved her hard onto the couch. The sting of the slap jolted her mind into sharp clarity.
"Get the fuck up and pack our ride's outside," he barked. Susan's body tensed, instinctively ready to obey but then, she remembered Chris.
"No," she said, voice hard. Her face set, eyes blazing. Derek froze, brow arching in surprise.
"No?" he repeated, incredulous.
"You don't own me anymore, Derek. I'm not your weak, scared, submissive girl," she spat.
He laughed a harsh, full-throated sound that made her blood run cold. She used that moment, lunging for the door, but it slammed shut before she could escape. His grip on her hair was brutal, slamming her face first against the door, yanking her backward; pain exploded in her skull as blood dripped from her nose.
"I didn't come to beg you, Blake," he hissed, slamming her against the door again. Darkness crept in at the edges of her vision.
When she regained consciousness, sunlight stabbed her eyes. She tried to sit up, but Derek's hands dragged her roughly to her feet.
"I don't trust those bitches," he growled. "They might've put a tracker in the car. We walk from here."
Her bare feet sank into dirt and underbrush, every step sending pain through her soles. She tried to protest, but he ignored her, tossing his shirt into the gas tank of the car and lighting it flames consuming it instantly. The heat stung her face as he grabbed her and forced her to continue walking, through thorns, rocks, and the unknown dangers of the forest.
"Where are you taking me?" she whispered, fear threading her words.
"Our dream home," he murmured, voice low and dangerous. She blinked, confused, but he offered no explanation.
"Derek, please…." she pleaded, but he only hissed, dragging her along. she let silent tears fall. She knew how much her sobbing enraged him, so she endured.
Hours later, he finally set her down. Her wounded feet kissed the smooth surface of the ground with a wince. The dim light revealed little shadows, insects buzzing yet Derek's voice broke the silence.
"Welcome to your new home, sweetheart," he said.
"I don't want this," she cried, quickly wiping tears.
"Of course, you do, babe," he said, tracing her cheek. "It'll be like old days… just you and me."
"This was meant to be," he added with finality, unlocking the door to the house. Susan's chest tightened. Her dread screamed louder than her words he could kill her here, and no one would ever know.
Chris returned home, casual attire on, the memory of her sweet morning behaviour warming him. He reached for the key in the door then froze. The door was ajar.
"Susan?" he called, stepping inside. The house looked normal. Everything in place. The lights, the furniture… she wasn't a wanderer; she didn't go anywhere. His heart raced. He called 911, explaining the situation as he searched, but then his eyes fell on a bloodstain on the door.
"Blood," he muttered, ignoring the operator's instructions to find a safe place. His mind snapped.
"She's hurt," he said, panic surging. "There's blood on the door."
Michael, standing nearby, watched Chris rarely had he seen him lose his cool.
"I told her we'd go phone shopping so we could communicate," Chris explained, voice tight, repeating the story for clarity.
"They'll find her," Michael said, trying to reassure him.
"How? We have nothing… all I know is her past was… terrible. Crap!" Chris cursed, leaping from his chair. He rushed to the gathered officers, giving them all the details, he could, exaggerating to spur action.
A report of a car fire in the woods gave him hope. No missing vehicle report matched it. He ordered a private investigator, pulled her passport from The Beast to create a missing person file, and scoured CCTV footage only catching a man carrying a woman, face obscured.
Even his aunt, claiming to have seen the missing person and hinting that Susan had stolen something, had been shunned and threatened by Chris he refused to let anyone compromise the search. His resolve was absolute. Susan would be found.