Amish Rescue. Debby Giusti

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СКАЧАТЬ ONE

      Sarah Miller’s heart pounded in sync with the footsteps that echoed up the stairway leading to the third story of the old antebellum home. Rats scurried in the attic as she crouched in the closet, pulled her knees to her chest and fought back tears that burned her eyes. The rats didn’t frighten her, but Victor Thomin did.

      The shuffle of his feet on the landing signaled his approach. Keys rattled as he unlocked the door, sending another wave of panic to ricochet along her spine. The locks—all three of them—were to protect her from those who hoped to do her harm...or so Victor claimed.

      “Sarah?”

      Her lungs constricted at the sound of his voice. She gasped, struggled for air and wished she could be anywhere except in his mother’s house, where he said she was safe.

      The door creaked open.

      In her mind’s eye, she could see his pallid skin, deep-set eyes and shock of red hair as he glanced around the room.

      “Where are you, Sarah?” Anger rose in his voice. “Are you hiding from me?”

      He knew too much about her, about being left alone as a child, about the fire and the fear that continued to eat at her even though she should know better. Why had she told him so much in her drugged stupor? At least he no longer forced her to take the pills.

      “You can’t hide from me, Sarah.” His voice made her tremble all the more.

      The closet door flew open. She startled, gasped for air and wanted to run but was too frightened to move.

      He grabbed her arm.

      “Don’t hurt me.” She struggled to pull free. “It was the dream that made me hide.”

      “Did you dream of being dragged from the car along with Miriam?” he asked, seemingly concerned. His hold eased. “Tell me about it, Sarah.”

      His voice was syrupy sweet now. How could he be such a Jekyll and Hyde? Hateful one minute, feigning compassion the next.

      If only she could remember all the details of the carjacking instead of hazy flashes that clouded her mind.

      He leaned closer. “I told you about the bad men, Sarah, the men in your dreams. They captured your sister, but I’m working to get Miriam back before she’s transported so far away that you’ll never find her again.”

      Sarah’s stomach roiled, sickened by the horrific thought of her sister gone forever. All her life, Sarah had relied on Miriam in times of need. But it wasn’t just Miriam she could count on. Even her eldest sister, Hannah, had offered support, though the two of them had not been as close.

      “If Miriam can’t help me, then Hannah will.”

      He clicked his tongue. “She left you years ago. Remember, you told me how you cried after Hannah was gone.”

      Frustrated that he had manipulated even that information from her, she raised her chin in defiance. “I don’t believe what you said about Miriam. You’re wrong, Victor. She hasn’t been taken away. She’ll save me.”

      Sarah eyed the open door to the hallway. Without thinking, she shoved past him and ran toward the stairs.

      He chased after her, grabbed her arm and threw her down.

      Her shoulder crashed against the floor. She groaned, then scrambled to her feet. He caught her hair and yanked so hard she thought her scalp would rip from her skull.

      His other hand wrapped around her neck; all the while he pulled her hair until her face pointed to the ceiling, exposing her throat, where his fingers tightened, constricting her airway.

      She clawed at his arm and kicked, her lungs on fire. She couldn’t swallow, couldn’t scream.

      “Don’t ever doubt me, Sarah.”

      Hot tears seared her eyes. She tried to nod, but the movement caused more pain along her scalp.

      Her ears rang, something gurgled in her throat, blackness swirled around her. Her knees gave way. In the split second before she would have slipped into unconsciousness, he released his hold. She fell to the floor, gasped for air and clawed her way back to reality.

      “Are you going to obey me?” he demanded, standing over her, hands on his hips and eyes glaring.

      She opened her mouth, hoping he hadn’t seriously damaged her vocal cords. A raspy “Yes” filtered out along with a whimper.

      “That’s my good Sarah.”

      She wasn’t good and she wasn’t his. She never would be. After her mother’s transgressions, she would never belong to any man, and especially not a crazed lunatic who had suddenly become abusive. His verbal threats had unnerved her and made her tremble, but until today, he had never touched her inappropriately or raised his hand in anger. Seemingly in the blink of an eye, all that had changed. She couldn’t fathom why. The only thing she did know was she needed to escape from Victor’s control.

      Not that she’d had an opportunity to elude him in the past. He kept close watch on her during the day and made sure she was locked away each night.

      With a huff, he yanked her to her feet. “Mother has been asking for you.”

      “She wants Naomi.” From what Sarah could tell, Naomi was a local Amish woman who had taken care of Ms. Hazel before Victor had brought Sarah here. Ms. Hazel repeatedly asked for her.

      “You’re taking Naomi’s place.”

      Something in his tone chilled Sarah to the core. “Wh-what happened to Naomi?”

      His gaze turned somber. “She disappeared, leaving Mother brokenhearted.”

      More likely, Victor had arranged for Naomi’s disappearance.

      He touched Sarah’s cheek. She turned her head away.

      “Listen to me.” He grabbed her jaw and forced her to look at him. “A man is bringing your sister here in a day or two. I’ll pay George off. Then you and Miriam can take care of Mother together. If you want to see your sister, do as I say.”

      His thin lips twisted into a hateful smirk. “But if you disobey me, if you try to escape, I’ll—”

      He let the threat hang.

      She uttered the first question that came to mind. “Then will I disappear like Naomi did?”

      He bristled.

      Evidently, she had struck a chord that rang a little too true.

      “I’m not afraid of you, Victor.” Could he hear the tremble in her voice?

      He leaned closer. “What if I turn off the power and use candles to light the house? Remember what you told me about the fire when you were a little girl?”

      Her chest constricted. She struggled to pull air into her lungs.

      “Do СКАЧАТЬ