“Miss me already?” he teased, though I sensed his regret. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on my part.
My captor waved the gun, urging me to speed up. But I shook my head, my lips firmly sealed. I couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
My captor let out a deep sigh. “I guess I’ll have to do this myself.”
“Olivia?” Connor snapped. “Who’s that?”
“You don’t recognize my voice?” the man said into the phone. He shook his head. “How disappointing.”
Connor was silent, perhaps baiting the guy. Or maybe he’d hung up. Part of me hoped he was already on his way, even if I hated the idea of him being in danger.
“I’m sure your girlfriend won’t forget it,” the guy said, still giving no clues as to his identity or what he really wanted beyond “revenge.” “Since it will be the last thing she hears.”
My throat closed up and tears threatened to fall. But I didn’t want to show him an ounce of weakness.
“If you touch a hair on her head… If you harm her in any way…” Connor said, unable to check the emotion from his voice. “I will fucking kill you, George.”
I believed him. And his anger and conviction gave me some relief. I drew strength from it.
“Let her go,” Connor growled.
“You’re in no position to make demands,” George said. “And don’t you dare call for backup. You will come alone and unarmed, or she dies.”
I gulped, trying to push away my fear. But it threatened to overwhelm me. My throat closed up, my body shaking.
“Better hurry,” George said before Connor could say anything else. “Time’s a ticking.”
He ended the call and slid my phone into his pocket. “Now. Where were we?” He tapped his lips with the gun. “I’d like some breakfast.”
He gestured with the gun, indicating that he wanted me to get up. This was good—a change of location could be good. It might give me the opportunity to grab a weapon, catch him off guard.
But when he pressed the gun to the small of my back, the cold, hard metal digging into my skin, a chill ran through me. Catch him off guard? The guy might not be much taller than me, but he had a good forty pounds on me. And he was out of his mind.
We made it to the kitchen. Luna was nowhere to be seen, and for that, I was grateful.Stay hidden, Lunakins.
George took a seat at the table, clearly expecting me to serve him. “Coffee. Black.”
Some of my fear was replaced by anger. Screw him and his dictatorial attitude. Screw him for putting me in this position. The longer he sat there glancing aroundmyhouse with disdain, the angrier I was.
I made the coffee in silence. All the while, I tried to work out a plan. I needed to get myself out of this situation before Connor arrived. Maybe I could grab a knife? But then what? I would certainly lose against a gun.
I made the coffee, carrying it over to him with shaky hands. I was about to set it on the table, when I decided to “accidentally” knock it over instead. It wasn’t the most original move, but it was all I had at the moment.
Scalding hot coffee splashed on his lap.
“Fucking bitch.” He leaped up, the dark liquid staining his pants.
He shook out his hands, and the gun glinted at me from the table. My heart was pounding so hard, I was surprised he couldn’t hear it. I lunged for the gun, but he quickly overpowered me. He grabbed it and twisted my arms behind my back. I sucked in a sharp breath, tears stinging my eyes.
“I was playing nice. But that ends now. Sit.” He yanked me down onto a barstool.
He pulled several zip ties from his pocket, binding my wrists behind my back. He reeked of alcohol, and my skin crawled from his touch. Perhaps sensing my disgust, he lifted the gun, dragging it along my neck.
“You’re a bit larger than the women I usually prefer, but I might be willing to make an exception.” His deranged smile and bloodshot eyes were haunting.
I flinched at his threat, closing my eyes and turning my head to the side. I just wanted this to be over. I wanted this to be a bad dream. I wanted to open my eyes and be in the kitchen eating breakfast with Connor, Luna weaving through our feet.
“Nice of you to join us.”
