“Garrett,” I say, taking a long draw of air. “My neck is burning.” I try to reach up and massage it, but Case grabs my hand tightly and puts it back on his stomach, still at that weird angle that stretches my shoulder enough to make it painful because of the wound that hasn’t healed yet.

“Your neck is burning because I choked the breath out of you. It’s a way to keep you focused. How did Garrett keep you focused?”

“Fishing,” I say. “And camping.”

“No, Sydney. That’s not how he did it.”

“He made me so happy.”

Case draws in a long breath behind me, blowing it out over my neck. It feels good. “I’m gonna tell you what Garrett really did, Sydney. And you’re going to listen very carefully as I explain. And then you’re gonna tell me if I’m right. Do you understand?”

“You killed him. You took him away from me.”

“I wish.” Case laughs. And that laugh scares me. My legs begin to tremble and my shoulder is on fire. “That night at the cabin when I said I owned you. Do you remember that night?”

“Yes. Garrett saved me from you.” Case mumbles out some words behind me, but I don’t catch them. “What?”

“He didn’t save you. The helicopter did. And if my friend hadn’t been in trouble I’d have finished. There was no saving you that night, let’s just get that straight right now. Because this is what happened, Sydney. He drugged you. He took you somewhere far away from other people. And he brainwashed you.”

I stare at the flames and think about this.

“Do you know what he did in the army, Sydney?”

“Garrett was in the army?” I try to picture Garrett as a patriot, but that just makes me laugh.

The hand is around my throat again, but I struggle against Case this time. I wiggle free of his grasp and lean my head into the rug as I catch my breath again. “Stop it,” I say.

“Pay attention. And answer my question.”

I nod my head, but it’s very heavy. My head is spinning, but it’s weird. Not the same as before. “I don’t know what he did in the army.”

“He was a PSYOP specialist, Sydney. Do you know what they do?”

“No.” I answer quickly now. I get it. Case has got something to say and he just wants to talk. My job is to listen and answer his questions.

I can do that.

“They fuck with people’s heads. They learn lots of ways to influence people into doing what they want. Some call it torture. Some call it interrogation. I did this too, Sydney. That’s how I have you in this cabin right now. That’s how I’ve managed to kill more people than I can even count. That’s how I get away when others get caught.”

I don’t have anything to say to this, so I stay silent.

“Garrett’s been working you since that day he took you from the cabin eight years ago. Maybe before that too. He drugged you. Took you away, fucked with your head, and made you into his little slave.”

My mind spins again and I try to get up. But Case’s arms are all the way around me now, hugging me to his chest tightly. “Hush,” he says.

I do hush. I quiet right down.

“That’s your trigger word. And wildcat wasn’t a nickname, was it?”

“No.”

“What does it mean, Sydney? That word wildcat?”

My eyes close as I think. Wildcat.

Garrett is laughing as I kneel. He’s fisting my hair, yanking me down in front of him. My eyes never leave him. I couldn’t rip my gaze away even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to.

Because I know what happens.

“That’s not it.”

“What’s not it, Sydney?”

My head clears a little and I take a deep, deep breath.

“Sydney,” Case says, almost whispering it in my ear. “Tell me.” His hand slips away from my neck and falls to my breast. He doesn’t squeeze, he caresses it. Softly. Like that feather he had. It’s soft.

His lips flutter against my cheek and I realize he’s kissing me. I turn into it and kiss him back. His face is scratchy. Not a beard, but not clean-shaven either. He turns my whole body until I’m facing him.

“Syd,” he says.

“Don’t call me that,” I whisper back, lifting my eyes a little so I can see his. The fire is dancing inside them, mesmerizing me for a moment. Case furrows his brow, like I’m confusing him. “He called me that.”

“Garrett?”

“No.”

“Who?”

“The man in my head.”

He smiles at me. And it comes so easy. “You wanna fish today, Syd?”

“Sydney,” Case says, drawing me back. “Who’s in your head?”

“Garrett,” I whisper. “But not the mean one.”

“You made that guy up, Sydney. You made him up to replace the monster.”

I turn away from Case again, but he stops me and turns me back. “I’m tired.”

“We’re all tired. You don’t get to quit because you’re tired. You were brainwashed. And I know he did terrible things, so we’re not gonna go there right now. But I need to know when you saw him last, Sydney. Think hard.”

“The night before my wedding.”

“Goddammit. No!” Case says this in an angry voice. “That was me, Sydney. I was the one you saw that night. You crashed your truck and I came and got you. Brought you here. That was not—”

“I saw Garrett too. He was at the hotel.”

“What?” Case sits up behind me. “What?” He grabs my chin with his hand and turns it until I have to pay attention to him.

“He was there. I saw him. He came to my door and—”

I stare at the monster in the hallway, the fear taking over. But that word he says, that stops me. It stops me. He says it again, and again. And each time, I become smaller. My world gets darker. Things shrink and I float.

“Then what happened, Sydney?”

“Come with me.”

I take his hand and follow him down the hallway to a door marked for employees. We go inside and it’s dark.

“What did he say, Sydney?”

“You’re a good girl.” It makes me sick and I lean over and throw up.

“Goddammit,” Case says. He gets up and it’s only then that I realize I actually did throw up. All over the rug in front of the fireplace.

He picks me up, holding me in his arms as he kicks the rug out of the way. And then he’s still for a moment. Like he’s thinking. He spins and so does my head. I have to close my eyes to stop my stomach from churning.

“I’m gonna be sick again,” I say. And then I puke all over myself and pass out.

The next thing I know, I’m in a bathroom. The lights are so bright I have to close my eyes. I’ve been in the dark too long. The water is running and I’m sitting on Case’s lap on the rim of the tub. He’s wiping me down with a towel and when he’s done with that he places me in the water.

It’s hot. But it feels so damn good after all those days and nights in the cold. Every part of my body is finally warm. He positions me so I’m leaning forward, my arms resting on my knees, my head resting on my arms.

He washes me. The soapy washcloth drags up and down my back. He pours water over my head, making me gasp and struggle for air. I can’t tell if this is torture or kindness.

I go with kindness. Because I’ve had enough torture in my life. But I know it’s a lie. Just like all the other lies I’ve been telling myself. “My whole life is a lie.”

“Welcome to the real world,” Case says.

I’m not in the tub anymore. I’m wrapped up in a towel, lying on a bed. He unwraps me and scoots me under the covers. They are soft, and clean, and smell fresh. And then he slips into bed and puts his arms all the way around me again.

“We’re done for now. He’s got you programmed to become sick when you’re questioned. So we’re gonna sleep it off and try again tomorrow.”