Read Taken: The MISTAKEN Series Complete Third Season for Free Online Page A

was anywhere near him. Nothing about that had changed.
    He reached down, taking my hand in his. It was such a benign thing—him holding my hand. But it did something to me. It made me want to give in—give him whatever it was he wanted. Let him have whatever it was he was here to claim. Something inside of me melted at that moment, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to say no to him. I would give him anything he wanted.
    I didn’t think I could even speak—the ache in my chest had stolen all the air from my lungs. I had to force in a breath, knowing there was only one thing I could say that would make things right. Only one phrase that might make him understand.
    I could barely get the words out, my voice breaking over them. “I’m sorry, Brandon. I’m so, so sorry.”

4
    N ine Months Earlier - Jenna

    M y head was throbbing . I could feel my pulse pounding harder in my temples with any slight movement that I tried to make. I couldn’t even open my eyes, it hurt so much. I only remembered having a headache this bad one other time—when I first woke up after Daniel had abducted me a few months ago. Whatever drug he had given me had made my head pound, but this headache—it felt so much worse.
    I could feel the cool tile against my cheek and I knew I was lying on the kitchen floor. I couldn’t remember how I had come to be in the kitchen or why in the world I would be lying on the floor there, but the cold tile was almost soothing the pulsations throbbing through my head. Almost.
    I stayed there—my eyes squeezed shut—until I thought I could manage the light. I knew that sunlight was going to make this headache about a million times worse, so I barely opened one eye to a slit. I couldn’t see anything. I opened both eyes about half way, still nervous about the pain that I knew the light would cause me, but I had been worried for nothing—there was no light. It was pitch black—not a sliver of light anywhere.
    The memory of where I was came flooding back to me. The cabin in Montana. The nights here were what nights were probably supposed to be like—there were no cities anywhere near this little cabin in the woods of northwestern Montana—not even a town within an hour’s drive. It was pitch black because it was nighttime and there weren’t any lights on in the cabin. And there weren’t any lights outside to illuminate the sky. The only light—if there had been any—would have come from the moon, and there didn’t seem to be one tonight.
    I sat myself up carefully, trying not to move too quickly and cause my head to throb any more than it already was. I reached out into the darkness, hoping to find anything that felt familiar. I scooted myself slowly toward what I thought was the sound of the refrigerator. I stopped when I found it with my outstretched fingers, bringing myself to a standing position. I used the refrigerator as my guide, moving along its width until I found the wall next to it—the one where I knew there was a light switch.
    I flipped on the switch, my eyes squinting, and saw where I had been lying. There was a small, dried pool of blood next to a frying pan and some partially cooked eggs. I reached my hand to my forehead, rubbing at the spot where the pulsating seemed to be worst and brought my hand down to see the flecks of dried blood that had rubbed off. I must have hit my head, but I had no memory at all of what had happened.
    My legs felt suddenly weak, and I was sure my knees were going to buckle. If my head hadn’t hurt so much, I might have felt the icy chill of terror earlier—I knew something was terribly wrong. I was only barely aware of where I was, but I knew something horrible had happened. And then I remembered who I was there with—who had taken me to Montana in the first place.
    I ran through the small cabin to the bedroom, flipping on every light switch I passed on my way there, the pain in my head the least of my concerns. I stopped in the doorway of the tiny bedroom,