The Perfect Daughter - Joseph Souza Page 0,132

all this is?”

I didn’t want to know. Tears streamed down my face. I felt so sorry for her and what she was going through—and the terrible decision she would be forced to make. I felt sorry for myself, as well, for getting involved in this mess.

“I know it sounds weird, but I still love him.”

“I don’t understand. How can you love that jerk after everything he’s done to you?”

“Because that jerk is still my father—and he’s promised to make me a star.”

* * *

Why now? Why has this sick memory just come back to me while I’m being held here against my will? I want to run out and tell the world what Gil Briggs did to his daughter. He baited me to come to that cabin by impersonating Willow and sending me those fake messages. Did he kill Willow because she threatened to tell everyone what he did? That he killed Dakota and impregnated his own daughter? What a disgusting person! He created Willow and raised her for his own sick benefit.

I’d read about girls who’d been groomed by powerful men. But groomed by her own father? Gil must have started in on Willow when she was a young girl, promising to make her a huge TV star, twisting her young mind like a French braid until she didn’t understand the boundaries of love. It makes sense now: she couldn’t understand right from wrong, because he’d warped her mind. She never tried to steal Dakota or Julian from me. No, she was merely struggling to come to terms with everything, to grasp what a normal relationship was and what it was not.

The restraint does not budge as I try to pull it off of whatever it’s secured to. Numbness sets into my hand from the lack of blood flow, and my shoulder aches. I can’t scream. I can’t move or see anything or tell anyone where I am. Why did Gil leave me here? Will he return later to take care of me?

Gil Briggs now represents all that is evil to me. It makes complete sense. He killed Dakota because Dakota, like me, found out about Willow’s sick relationship with him. Because of that, Willow made sure to keep Julian and me out of harm’s way. Only she never thought I’d go to the lengths I did to discover their disgusting secret.

I try again to free myself, but it’s futile. Sadly, I’m not going anywhere. Though I’m being held prisoner, I’m surprisingly calm. Everything is out of my hands now. At least I have the satisfaction of knowing who committed these crimes and who attacked me that night. I just need to stay calm and figure a way out of here. If only I could remove this blindfold, as well as the tape over my mouth, which is restricting my breathing.

ISLA

THE PAST THIRTY MINUTES OF DRIVING AROUND TOWN HAD PROVED fruitless. There had to be a better way than this. She had seen no sign of Ray’s truck around town. No sign of Katie and Raisin. It felt like her personal hell was beginning all over again, only this time she’d lost Raisin, too. They had to be somewhere in this godforsaken town. But where? If only they had a clue as to where Katie had gone.

She watched Karl drive now and remembered him as a young man, when they’d hiked some of the nearby hills. He had possessed a quiet confidence even back then, although she hadn’t recognized it for what it was—a strength that emanated from deep within his core. Back then, she had just thought he was a shy, quiet kid. He was so totally different from Ray, whose bright luster had faded the more she got to know him.

Karl’s finger tapped nervously against the wheel. What was he thinking? She watched the landscape fly past. Nothing in all this added up. Why would Katie take the gun out of her safe? And why would she take Raisin with her, knowing the danger the two of them faced? Could she have been worried that Drew might attack her? Isla had seen a side of Katie’s boyfriend she’d never before experienced. She didn’t believe he’d ever been abusive to Katie, but who knew? How about Coach Hicks, who, according to Karl, was living in the closet because of the small-town attitudes in Shepherd’s Bay? Or Julian? That boy allegedly had a history of drugs and violence. What about Bob Oden, who was still bitter about losing his

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