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Prescott’s swiveling toward the backseat, her shoulder pressing against mine as she recovers the backpack and our masks.
“We have to get rid of them,” she says, referring to the AB. “You can be the bait.”
I snap my head around to face her. Either I didn’t hear her right or she’s drunk. The latter is less than likely since we haven’t left each other’s side in fuck knows how long.
“Say that again, louder now, so I’ll have a good reason to bend you in half against that tree over there and spank your ass until your skin sheds.”
“I’m serious.” She licks her lips, turning to face me. “Get rid of all of them, and I’ll take Godfrey myself. I have the gun and the dagger. I can do this.”
“He’s got more weapons than you can dream of in his house, and even if, hypothetically, I was able to get all those sons of bitches out of the way, there’s no telling who’s waiting for you inside. And in case you’ve forgotten”—I yank her by my hoodie, our noses crushing together—“you’re carrying around the heart of the girl I’m fucking in love with. Be more careful with her life.”
I shake my head. “This is out of the question. You’re not going in by yourself.”
“Nate,” she starts, her voice spikes with an edge, and I grind my lips against hers. I’ve fucking missed them. We’ve been too busy dodging the police over the past few hours to fool around.
“Pea,” I breathe into her mouth. “Screw this. Let’s turn around before they see us. We have our whole lives to live. Who cares about these fuckers?”
“I do,” my girl says, eyes traveling to meet mine. “I’m sorry, Nate, but I do.”
She swings the passenger door open and runs out of it before I get the chance to blink.
Without the gun.
Without the dagger.
But with my fucking heart.
She runs straight to the gated entrance of Godfrey’s mansion and the air is trapped in my lungs as I fumble to get my own door open before my hand freezes. If I walk out of this car, I’m dead. They’ll shoot hundreds of holes in me without even flinching, like in Gran Torino. I won’t be much help to Prescott if I’m dead. I tuck my head low and watch as Pea crosses the road, running straight into the arms of the Aryan Brotherhood, and I know, I just fucking know that my nerves are not going to survive the next few minutes.
The moment she rounds the corner, the tall oak trees that cover our car hide her from my vision, and I’m in the dark.
Pulling on my hair until patches of black are left in my fists, I fume. Crazy bitch.
I’m staying in.
I’m coming out.
Fuck.
Whatever I’m doing, suffice to say—I’m going mad.
He exhales into my ear, his white moustache tickling the curve of my neck as he brushes a strand of blonde hair off of it. It’s something Camden used to do a lot and I hated it. It’s corny as hell.
“This is going to be our little secret, isn’t it, my darling girl?”
“I always thought you were asexual.” My gaze is lingering on the weather report dancing across the flat screen TV. It’s going to be a glorious week, but of course, I won’t get to experience it. I know what’s to come, but I have to keep it together. I won’t let him see me break. “I thought Camden was a fluke. That maybe you tried pussy one time and it resulted in a kid. You don’t have a wife and you’re not divorced. Who’s Camden’s mother, anyway?”
I don’t actually care. I just want to taunt him. In all the time I’ve been with Camden, he’d always kept silent on the identity of his mother. Said he never wanted to talk about her, that she was off-limits. I know that he and Godfrey are very close, but if his mom is alive and well, there is no way that they’re in touch.
“None of your bloody business, sweetheart. None at all.” Godfrey’s cold, cracked lips trace my collarbone as his palm moves under my shirt, cupping one breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers. “If you ever tell Camden that I’ve touched you, I’m slicing you up and feeding you to the hounds. You’re good meat.”
I don’t answer. I just remind myself of all the good times to pull through this one bad moment.
Pistachio ice cream.
The scent of the ocean as it breaks against my sandy toes.
Playing Monopoly in my PJs with Preston and Dad, stuffed to the max after Christmas dinner.
Jumping on my waterbed when the nanny wasn’t looking.
The movie Amélie.
Feeling the tears tingling your nose when you read an angsty book.
“Lie down,” he says, and I do, because I know that he can kill me. Kill me and tell Camden that I tried to escape and one of the guards had to stop me. I don’t want to die. Not until I figure out if there’s a way out of this hell.
