Morning, Brad guessed, but it could be afternoon. A sack had been over his head when he’d climbed out of unconsciousness, and he’d been sedated at least twice since then. The picture, now clear, was one only his worst fears could have conjured up. He’d been taken, drugged, stuffed in a trunk. Now he faced his end as Nikki had faced hers. After spending so many hundreds of hours putting himself in the place of killers and their victims, he found himself actually in that position. In and of itself, it was more surreal than terrifying. But the killer had called Paradise, and the claws of dread were encasing him. He felt nauseated. They were in an old barn with graying planks for walls and dirty hay for a floor. The stale scent of grain and old horse manure hung in the air. Sagging eight-by-eight timbers spanned the sloping roof overhead, begging for an excuse to fold under the weight they supported.
What do You think about The Bride Collector (2010)?
