The Thinnest Air

by Minka Kent

  I swallow the hard ball lodged in the base of my throat. “Yes.”

  CHAPTER 37

  MEREDITH

  Eight Days Ago

  I wake with a start, my entire body jerking, my consciousness pouring over me like a bucket of ice water, only I can’t move. Plastic cuts into my ankles, securing me to the legs of a metal chair in a small rustic kitchen.

  It’s dark in here, save for the light above the stove. The heady scent of mildew mingles with the sooty odor of burning logs in the next room.

  A spot on the back of my head throbs in time with my quickening pulse.

  My arms are asleep from the elbows down. I pull as hard as I can, but they’re tied tight with what I imagine to be a zip tie.

  The last thing I remember is sitting in my car behind the grocery store, being startled by a tap at my window, and then climbing out when I saw Ronan standing there.

  I told him he scared me, that he shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.

  Everything went dark after that.

  “You’re awake.” Ronan stands in the doorway of the kitchen, looking like a grim shadow in the dark. “For a second I was worried I hit you too hard.”

  My vision moves in and out of focus. He steps closer, and my body tenses.

  “Why?” I manage to ask. “I don’t understand.”

  The man standing before me is a stranger. A stranger with a twisted smile, his once kind eyes replaced with something darker, something unstoppable.

  “What are you going to do with me?” I ask, my words jumbling into one. My own words are barely audible, forced air leaving my lips in an uncertain gasp. The whoosh of my pounding heart fills my ears, a reminder that this moment is real, that I’m not in the midst of a nightmare.

  Ronan stands before me now, lowering his gaze to mine and cupping my chin in his hand. “Do you honestly think I’m going to hurt you, Meredith?”

  He laughs through his nose.

  “I love you,” he says. “I just want to be with you.” Ronan rests his hands on the tops of my thighs. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  Kissing my trembling mouth, he breathes me in.

  My stomach rolls, my body recoiling at his touch.

  “You’ll learn to love me again,” he says, wrongfully assuming I loved him once. “I promise, Meredith. It’s you and me forever now.”

  CHAPTER 38

  GREER

  Day Eleven

  Harris’s phone is still off. The seats at our gate are beginning to fill. I can’t stop twitching.

  “Do you want a coffee?” I ask Ronan. Feigning normalcy is proving to be more challenging than I expected. “I think we’re boarding in ten minutes, but I can grab—”

  “No.” Ronan cuts me off. All morning he’s barely looked my way, barely said more than a handful of words.

  “I’m going to grab myself one.” I rise.

  “Line’s probably too long,” he says. “And it’s five gates over. You won’t make it back in time.”

  I know he’s right, but I also don’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking I’m a malleable woman.

  “I can at least check,” I say, rising and slipping my bag over my shoulder.

  “Sit. Down.” His jaw clenches.

  “What’s with you today?” I ask, forcing myself to chuckle.

  Ronan shoots me a look before shaking his head. “I’m tired. You had me fly across the country—literally fly across the country—to search an empty cabin.”

  Exhaling, I nod. “I’m sorry. I really thought—”

  “It’s fine.” His jaw hollows. “Just want to get home so I can keep looking for her.”

  For a second, I bask in the genuine concern on his face and the logical explanation that he’s just as tired and frustrated as I am. But Andrew’s words echo in my mind, and I’m forced to remove my rose-tinted glasses.

  “Hey, what was the name of that stalker?” I ask. I realize my question is out of the blue, but if I can maybe gauge his reaction, I can get an idea of whether or not Andrew’s bombshell has any merit.

  Ronan’s gaze snaps onto mine. “Why would you ask me that?”

  I shrug. “I was just thinking, when we get back, I really want to look into the stalker. Maybe he had something to do with this?”

  “You don’t think they’ve already checked into that?” He huffs, shaking his head like I’m some kind of idiot.

  “I’m sure they have,” I say. “But you never know. It doesn’t hurt to double-check. Do you remember his name?”

  His lips press together, and he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers forming a peak as he stares ahead. “That was a really long time ago. I’d have to look it up.”

  “Were there charges? It’d be a matter of public record, right?” I grab my phone. “I could check online.”

  A woman’s voice plays over the speaker, indicating the commencement of the boarding process. Ronan stands, his back toward me. His section is called first, and he disappears into a line of travelers.

  He’s supposed to be my ride back to Glacier Park, but if he’s guilty, if he did this, he’s got the next several hours to figure out that I’m beginning to suspect him now more than ever.

  I shouldn’t have pushed so much about the stalker case. I can’t tip him off if I want to find Meredith. If I do, he’ll move her. And then we’ll truly never find her. She’ll be gone. Forever.

  But maybe she’s already gone.

  If Ronan took her . . .

  If he flew to Vermont and left her alone . . .

  Who’s taking care of her?

  CHAPTER 39

  MEREDITH

  Seven Days Ago

  The pillowcase beneath my damp head has turned cold from my wet hair, and the distinct scent of Ivory soap emanates from my skin. My body is covered in a white nightgown, my wrists and ankles secured to bedposts. He must have bathed me while I was unconscious. The thought of his hands touching my body, exploring every piece of me while I lie helpless, sends a rush of bile up my throat.

  The room is dark, with only the crack of light shining around a door to offer a shadowy depiction of my surroundings.

  Andrew’s face fills my mind. I think of him warm in our bed, wondering how he’s holding up. He’s always so stoic, so serious. I bet he’s keeping up a front, and I’ll bet people are going to suspect him for it, blame him for not caring, but he’s never been good with handling negative emotions. He prefers to skirt around them when at all possible, focus on the good, the things he can control. His image. His reputation. The success of his business.

  The door swings open with a soft creak, as if Ronan didn’t want to wake me. I watch with bated breath as he stands at the foot of the bed, his stare weighing heavy on my body. A moment later, he takes a seat beside me, peeling back my covers. The nightgown is thin and damp from my skin, sending a chill when it meets the cold night air.

  I realize then that I don’t know if it’s night. I don’t know what day it is or what time of day it is for that matter.

  Everything’s dark.

  Everything blurs together.

  Everything’s one infinite, endless nightmare.

  “I’m leaving in a little bit so you need to eat,” he says. “I’ll untie one of your hands, but I need to know you’re not going to try anything.”

  Ronan’s eyes shine in the dark. I nod.

  “Trust me,” he says, his voice gentle and sweet. “I don’t want to hurt you, Meredith, but I will restrain you if I have to.”

  A few seconds later, he heads toward the hall, leaving the door open. Light spills in from a vintage globe, illuminating an iron bed frame and an old pine dresser. The walls are covered in decorative maps, and an empty gun rack is mounted next to the door.

  The sound of silverware clinking and a faucet running fills the silent cabin, and a few minutes later, Ronan returns with a tray.

  “Chicken soup,” he says. “And a London Fog.”

  His eyes
smile, as if he’s proud of himself for remembering my favorite drink.

  Placing the tray on the nightstand beside me, he retrieves a knife from his back pocket and clips the zip tie on my left, nondominant hand. When he positions the food over my lap, he places the spoon between my fingers and takes a seat beside me.

  “They’re going through your phone right now,” he says with an amused huff. “As soon as they link you to me, they’re going to place me on administrative leave. Lucky for us, there’s no body, not a shred of evidence. They won’t be able to pin any of this on me, but they’ll probably fire me for misconduct. The case’ll go cold. I’ll go on my way. Eventually you’ll be a forgotten headline, maybe a cold case people bring up on Reddit every now and then.”

  Ronan shakes his head, smirking ear to ear, like he can’t get over how well his little plan seems to be playing out.

  “You’re not eating.” His expression fades. “You haven’t eaten in days, Meredith. I don’t need you getting dehydrated. We’re hours from the nearest hospital. We’re hours from anyone, really.”

  I lift the spoon to my mouth. It tastes like salt water, the noodles soggy, as if the can had been sitting in the cabinet for decades. My appetite is nonexistent, but my baby needs to eat, so I choke it down.

  “You’ll like it up here,” he says. “It’s really quiet. Peaceful. You know how I told you once I like to hunt? And I’m an avid survivalist?”

  I nod, vaguely recalling a conversation we’d had over hot chocolates on one of our many late-night drives together. I hadn’t given it another thought. In fact, when he told me, I thought it was cute. And fitting. My all-American Boy Scout, I’d teased him.

  “Figured we could live off the land,” he says. “Off the grid.”

  My body begins to tremble. The more I try to still the tremors, the worse they get.

  “You’re shaking.” Ronan places his hand over mine. “You’re going to spill. Here.” He takes the spoon from my hand, feeding me like an infant. “See, I can take care of you. And I don’t need a Maserati and a giant bank account to do it.”

  We’re swallowed by silence for a moment, each spoonful of soup followed by the clink of the silverware against the bowl. The liquid has long since grown lukewarm, but Ronan seems intent on making sure I get every last bite.

  “If this baby happens,” he says, his words stopping my heart cold, “we’ll have to figure something out. Find it a decent home. Something like that.”

  “Ronan.” My teeth grit when I speak his name.

  He sniffs, his mouth pulled up at one side. “You can’t expect me to raise his child as my own. That’s just insane. Besides, we’ll have a bunch of our own. You’ll forget all about this one eventually. Anyway, I’m trying to get my hands on one of those pills.”

  A thick tear slides down my cheek.

  He removes the soup and places a mug of tea in my hands. It’s barely warm, but my throat is parched, my tongue like sandpaper. Lifting it to my lips, I swallow the milky liquid, downing the entire cup in one go.

  Ronan takes it from me when I’m finished, inspecting the bottom to ensure it’s empty.

  “You drugged me, didn’t you?” I ask.

  He laughs, reaching for my face, tilting my chin up until our eyes hold. “I’m not a bad person, Meredith. I may do bad things, but I’m a good man with good intentions. My means always justify my ends.”

  “It was you, wasn’t it?” I ask. “There was never a stalker. It was always you.”

  He releases my face from his grasp, gathering the dishes and lifting the tray, his back toward me. I find my answer in what he doesn’t say.

  Thinking back to one of our very first conversations, I distinctly recall Ronan telling me stalkers were mentally unstable, unpredictable. He told me some of them got off on fear, while others were simply obsessed.

  If I want to survive, I’m going to have to play along. I’m going to have to convince him that he did the right thing, that I should’ve chosen him all along.

  “Thank you for dinner,” I say when he reaches the doorway. A hazy fog begins to wash over me, my eyelids thick, weighted.

  He stops. “You’re welcome.”

  Ronan disappears for a minute, returning with a fresh zip tie.

  Clutching my fist against my chest, I gaze into his eyes. “Do we have to? My hands are falling asleep.”

  Bending over me, he reaches for my free hand, sliding his fingers around my wrist and lifting it to an iron rail in the headboard.

  He kisses the top of my head, soft and gentle. “Yes, Meredith. We have to.”

  CHAPTER 40

  GREER

  Day Eleven

  He answers.

  Harris answers.

  “Oh, my God.” I clasp my hand over my mouth. “Harris, what the hell is going on? Where are you?”

  I glance around the airport, searching for Ronan. We left the baggage claim a few minutes ago, and he headed to the restroom, his gun case in tow.

  “Gre . . .” His voice cuts out. “I’m . . . my way to . . . don’t . . . Ronan . . .”

  My phone beeps. The call ends.

  A warm hand clasps my shoulder. Ronan. “You ready?”

  The buzzing of my phone in my hand startles me, and Ronan glances down only to find Harris’s name flashing across the screen. Before I have a chance to slide my thumb across the glass, Ronan snatches it from me.

  Leaning into my ear, he presses something hard into my back. It was only for a split second, hardly long enough for anyone around us to notice, but I know exactly what it is.

  “I highly recommend you not make a scene.” His voice is low, reverberating off my eardrum. “Walk.”

  We head toward the pickup lane, pass a line of waiting taxis, and enter the long-term parking garage. His hand hooks into my elbow, leading me toward the elevator, and as soon as we round a corner on the third floor, he ditches my phone in a nearby trash can.

  “I don’t understand,” I say as he jerks me along. Maybe if I play dumb, he won’t perceive me as a threat despite the fact that I have every intention of tearing him limb from limb the first chance I get.

  His truck is a few paces ahead. “I think you do. I think you understand perfectly.”

  Glancing around, I realize we’re alone. And even if we weren’t, I couldn’t make a scene. Not here. And not yet.

  He has my sister.

  And that means he has all the power.

  At least for now.

  CHAPTER 41

  MEREDITH

  Six Days Ago

  “Wake up.” Ronan’s voice in my ear pulls me out of a deep sleep, and when I open my eyes, I’m surrounded by darkness.

  “What time is it?” Not that it matters. I don’t know how long I’ve been gone. How many hours I’ve slept. But I think if I ask normal questions and not the kind of panicked questions a victim might ask, it might help in the grand scheme of things. “I’m so hungry.”

  Yet another attempt at normalcy.

  Ronan strokes his hand through my hair, his fingertips tangling in the matted strands. “I bet you are. Anyway, I brought you something.”

  I begin to sit up before realizing I’m still tied, spread eagle. He chuckles.

  “You’re going to eat at the table,” he says. “You need to move, or your muscles will atrophy.”

  He snips the zip ties, keeping a watchful eye on me, and then he takes my hands in his, pulling me out of bed. There’s an ache in my low back that radiates down the backs of my legs, and my muscles stiffen with each step, but I suffer through it, determined not to lose my strength because it’s the only thing I have right now.

  Ronan’s fingers interlace mine, our palms fused, and he leads me to the kitchen, one slow step at a time. My head is light, the floor beneath my feet seeming slanted. I must be dehydrated.

  “Sit here.” He kicks a chair out before lowering me, and without hesitation, he retrieves more zip ties from his pockets, slipping them around my ankles.

&
nbsp; A cardboard box rests on the stove. The overwhelming aroma of garlic and greasy pizza floods my senses, followed by a wave of nausea, but I’m starving. Ronan places a piece before me on a bed of recycled paper napkins and grabs a bottle of water next.

  I inhale everything.

  My stomach twists, gurgles, but I want more.

  “I’ll try not to be gone so long next time,” he says. “Your sister, she’s something else. Stopping by unannounced, asking stupid questions.”

  I pretend not to care, staring ahead at a photo of mountains buried in snow mounted on the kitchen wall in a cheap, crooked frame.

  “She’s really looking for you, like relentlessly. Probably even more than your husband.” He sniffs, chuckling. “It’s cute, really. Let’s just hope she doesn’t become a problem.”

  “You won’t hurt her,” I manage to say, shooting him a narrowed glance. “If you love me, you won’t hurt her.”

  He places his hand over mine, leaning toward me. “I do love you. And that’s why I’m willing to do whatever I have to do so we can be together.”

  My eyes water, and I swallow the roughly chewed bite of pizza in the back of my mouth. It’s tasteless, threatening to come up if I don’t get myself under control.

  If he’s crazy enough to snatch me from a grocery store parking lot in broad daylight, he’s crazy enough to hurt my sister.

  Greer’s persistence has always been a great strength. I imagine it’s stronger now than ever before. If I know my sister, she’ll stop at nothing to find me.

  She once fought off a group of four men who tried to mug us in Brooklyn on our walk home from the park. She couldn’t have been more than fifteen. They swiped at her purse. The next thing I knew, fists were flying, feet were kicking, and Greer was screaming at the top of her lungs.

  She looked insane. Clinically insane. It was enough to scare them away.

  Ronan won’t scare her.

  But unfortunately, I don’t think Greer will scare him either.

  “You know, I was thinking,” I say, attempting to iron out the rough kinks in my trembling voice. “I’m coming into some money at the end of the month, on my birthday. Maybe we could use it to start over? Start a new life together? I just, you know, wouldn’t be able to collect it if I’m missing . . .”