Lost (Captive Heart #1) Read Online Free PDF

should search him, grab the keys and make a run for it. I could get out of here. He’d do it to me in a heartbeat.
    But … I just can’t. Somewhere, deep down in my heart, I’m still holding out hope for the Tucker I’d once loved.
    “You … fucking … happened …”
    Oh thank God. At least I know he is still breathing if he can manage to form words.
    I panic, not knowing what to do. I drag him off the bench, heaving and huffing until I can get him on the ground. Even in the emaciated state his body is in, Tucker is still a big man. He’s tall, a good foot above my five-four frame, and I can still feel the muscles in his arms and abs as I wrestle him to the ground.
    I turn him on his side, another thing I’ve learned from my favorite medical drama, but God knows if it actually works. I have no idea what to do.
    “You … threw … away … my … drugs.” Tucker’s voice comes out muffled and slurred.
    A light bulb clicks on in my brain and I finally get it. He’s going through withdrawal. When I threw those drugs in the lake, I also signed his death wish. Because now he can’t get high. I’ve made him go cold turkey. And I have no idea what those symptoms entail. I have no idea how to care for someone going through this.
    Why am I thinking about caring for my kidnapper?
    Because before he was your kidnapper, he was the boy you loved, a little voice says in my head.
    Tucker makes a wailing, grunting noise full of agony. He sounds like a dying animal, one that normally would be put out of its misery. But I have nothing. I don’t have medicine, I don’t have experience. I don’t even have food or water.
    “Shhh … it’s going to be okay.”
    I take his head in my lap where we’ve sunk to the ground, pushing the mess of curls off of his slick, sweaty forehead. I should get him inside, into the dark and out of the windy, sun-soaked quad. But it would be no use; I can’t move him and he can’t walk.
    So instead I sit on the ground with Tucker Lynch’s head in my lap, holding his body as violent tremors course through him for what seems like hours.
    And while I should run, flee and get as far away from him as I can, I can’t help but think over and over and over again; what the hell happened to the boy I once loved?”

8
Tucker
    Eleven Years Ago
    T his was definitely going to be my last summer at Camp Marsh.
    Walking around the grounds, all of the younger kids looked like babies compared to my mature, fourteen-year-old self. It didn’t help that my bros back home had ragged on me for months about spending two weeks up here in the Poconos at summer camp. Who went to summer camp anymore? They were off inducting themselves into high school, trying to get into every underage house party they could get through the door at, surveying the new girls and the old ones.
    But I had to come, at least for one more summer. Deep down I really did love this place, what it stood for, how much simpler it was out here. And it was the one place I could come that my dad couldn’t get to me. It was two glorious weeks without football or weight training or pressure. When I was here, I was free to be whoever I wanted.
    I strolled down the walking paths through the forest, just aimlessly wandering in the early evening after dinner. I could go back to my cabin, hang with the rest of the dudes I was bunking with, but for some reason I just felt like being alone.
    Most of the campers were up at the mess hall, eating late dinners or goofing around after a day of activities. I wave to a few guys I know as I wind deeper into the forest, my spine tightening up as I remember that I’ll be going home in just three short days.
    As I near the obstacle course—a massive structure of ropes, climbing walls, ziplines and balancing beams suspended thirty feet from the ground—I see a familiar head of long, thick chestnut hair. My heart speeds up, and my dick does that twitching thing it’s started doing whenever I see a hot girl.
    But this