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Lewis.
My eyes flare wide as I stare at the man. “Did Lewis Grimm send you?” I demand, and the man driving snorts a laugh, which is all I need for confirmation.
“There’s no reason for you to get yourself all worked up, sunshine. Take in some of this beautiful weather we’re enjoying.” He waves his hand at the smoked window. “It’s all going to come to an end soon enough.”
I stare at him in horror, trying desperately not to cry. “You don’t have to do this,” I try again, my voice shaking. “I know people with money. A lot of money. They will pay for you to let me go.” I think of Hawk, finding my note then waiting for me to come home—slowly beginning to wonder what’s gone wrong when I don’t answer my phone or respond to his texts. Will he think I ran off on him? Will he think I don’t care?
What would he want me to do?
He would have never wanted me to get into this car. I can’t get past that thought or my own anger at myself, and I press my lips together, my entire body shaking now.
Please, Hawk, I pray, though I know he can’t hear me. Please don’t let me die!
