Ralph saw the gate open and wondered if Heather had finally decided to let him in. Now that it was open, he hesitated. "I've scolded her so long," he mused. "Is she trying to lure me in to attack me?" Fear prickled him, but he refused to appear cowardly.

He chuckled coldly at the surveillance camera. "Must I enter because you opened the gate? I won't! Why should I do what you want? I've had enough, Heather! I let you have your way because you're a Riggs, but I'm a Russel, and you've overstepped. I'm done!" Ralph turned to leave.

Inside, Chump saw Ralph heading for his car, his head slightly lowered. "Miss, should I bring him in?"

Heather curled her lips. Chump silently withdrew. A motorcycle roared away.

Outside the gate, Ralph was genuinely leaving. He'd scolded her; he knew she was up to something. He'd always accommodated her; he wanted her to experience his perspective. He wanted to see what she'd do if he refused. He hoped she'd come looking for him, sparing him further visits.

He brushed himself off and walked toward his car. He'd barely taken a few steps when a roar made him look back. A motorcycle sped toward him.

The motorcycle alarmed him; he broke into a run. He couldn't see the rider, but sensed danger. He raced for his car, but something whipped over his head and tightened around his waist before he could reach the door.

He looked down to see a rope binding him. He was pulled back before he could react, tumbling heavily.

"Ptui!" Ralph spat out dirt, struggling to loosen the rope. The motorcyclist had already turned and sped back toward the gate.

"Let me go! Who the hell are you? Let go! Heather..." He struggled, but only briefly. The rope dragged him along as the motorcycle roared away. The gritty ground scraped against him as he scrambled, exhausted, to his feet, falling again and again, too worn out to protest.