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“Will,” I pleaded.
But he remained quiet.
“He doesn’t seem to know you,” Aydin teased.
I shook my head. “There must be some way to get a hold of security or the people who run this place or—”
Aydin pulled out the steak, sizzling on the tray, and set it on the wooden table, grabbing a knife and fork and cutting the meat.
“We have a kitchen, of course, but the meat is so much better cooked down here.” He looked at me, bidding me over. “You must be hungry. We’re not completely uncivilized. Come here.”
He took a pitcher and poured a glass of water, and my mouth dried even more, seeing how good it looked.
“Your name?” he asked, pushing the glass and pan toward me.
I clamped my mouth shut.
But Will spoke up for me. “Her name is Emory Scott,” he answered.
I shot Will a glare. A smirk danced across his eyes.
“From Thunder Bay, as well?” Aydin asked him.
And Will nodded.
Taylor took back his spot, sitting on the crates behind him and hanging over Will’s shoulder again as everyone watched me.
I stepped a little closer to Will, too angry to care right now.
“Always following,” I taunted him. “Never the leader, and always latching on to anyone who loves you.”
He stared at me.
“Your friends have moved on,” I told him. “Buying up Thunder Bay. Starting families. Probably happy to be rid of their weakest link.” My eyes burned on him. “Even Damon seems happy, judging from the news I catch from home. No falter in his steps as he does just fine without you.”
The muscles in his jaw flexed, and I smiled a little.
Yeah, he didn’t like that.
“Damon…” Aydin murmured, looking over to Will. “Torrance?”
Will remained silent.
“And Michael Crist and Kai Mori, right?” Aydin continued. “I would be jealous you have people who care enough to send help if it weren’t a female a year too late.”
Everyone chuckled.
No one sent me. Someone kidnapped me.
“Took them long enough,” Taylor added. “And we’ve been here the whole time, taking care of him.”
“He’s ours now,” Aydin told me. “The senator’s grandson has elevated his company, my dear. We’re not toys playing at war.”
“No, you’re prisoners playing like you have any power.”
He nodded once, unfazed. “We’ll revisit that topic again another time. Eat.”
The food sat there, the smell permeating the air, and I saw Micah staring at it more than once.
