DEAD IN BED By Bailey Simms: The Complete Second Book

PART 9, AUTHOR'S NOTE - 2/8/15, 1:55pm

I needed to be strong. I tried to glare at him as steadily as I could.

"So," I snapped. "You impersonated a cop, almost killed my boyfriend, and now you're holding us captive?" I needed to calm down. I had to control myself from lashing out again. It was way too risky. I managed to hold back just before adding, What is wrong with your head? A little more calmly, I said, "Okay, just so I understand. Instead of cashing that check and telling my dad you found me like he hired you to do, you lock me in this room to force me to write the sequel to my novel?"

"I guess there's no harm in telling you this." The cop leaned forward and folded his hands. I felt his weight shift the bed. "First of all, no, I didn't impersonate a cop. I used to be a Highway Patrol officer, once. But I was let go. I don't mind admitting that. Budgets were being cut, and the job wasn't right for me. But sometimes the uniform still comes in handy."

Suddenly I flashed back to the moment outside the U-Haul. His badge. It had said, "Colorado State Patrol." We'd been in California and he'd had a Colorado badge. How could I have been so stupid? How did I not notice that?

"Your dad hired me because I'm a very good investigator. I specialize in tracking down runaways, and I always find them. I'm the best." He folded his arms and hunched his shoulders, almost like a little boy. "My job is very important to me," he said quietly. "When I was a kid, just twelve, my older sister ran away. My dad didn't do nearly enough to find her. He said that she had to be free to make her own choices. He said she'd come home when she was ready. But do you know what happened? Bailey? My sister was killed. She was locked up in a basement, and her kidnapper forced himself on her, and then she was killed. It completely destroyed my family."

I didn't say anything. Things were starting to become a little more clear about the cop, but I still had no idea what any of this had to do with my book.

"Your dad's a great guy," the cop went on. "He really is. I met him. But he hasn't done nearly enough to discipline you. You've been living illegally in a dorm room with a bunch of boys, Bailey. And you're only seventeen. Someone needs to teach you a lesson. And if your dad won't, I will. Try to image what this would be like if it were a real kidnapping. I promise you it would be much, much worse."

A real kidnapping? What was this, then? Like I should be grateful he hadn't forced himself on me yet?

"Look," the cop said. "I know I've scared you a little. But you need to be scared a little. It's for your own good. Someday, you'll thank me for this. I promise."

Now he leaned closer. I could see the flecks of green in his eyes. He smelled faintly of aftershave.

"Because, the thing is, Bailey," he whispered, "I've come to care about you." He stared straight into my eyes. "I've never done something like this for anyone before. Not ever. This"—he nodded at the handcuffs—"is how much I care about you. When I read your Wattpad story at first, I was only looking for clues about your whereabouts. I didn't think I'd become so invested in your book, so moved by it. And I came to the realization that if I can just help you finish it, I'll have taught you the discipline to make better choices in your life. You won't make the same mistakes about where you go, or who you date. Everything will fall into place. And when I bring you back home to your dad, I'll have done my job."

Wait. Mistakes about who I date?

"Okay, where is Kyle?" I demanded. "You need to tell me that right now. I swear to God I'm not writing another word until I know Kyle's okay. Not another word."