“Give. Them. To. Me.” Cynthia enunciated each word and held out her free hand.
Steff had been mistaken, it wasn’t a manic look in Cynthia’s eyes, it was disgust and … hate.
She wasn’t in the middle of a PTSD attack. Everything Cynthia was doing was calculated.
Oh my god! It was Cynthia all along!
How was that possible!?
What about Fox? Did she even like him?
The thoughts slammed her mind in quick succession, but she couldn’t let Cynthia know she’d worked out that she was responsible for all the horrible things that happened to Steff.
The last thing she wanted to do was give her the earrings. Cynthia knew what they were, because Fox had given her a pair.
Yet, Cynthia wasn’t wearing hers.
“No.” It didn’t come out as strong as she hoped, because how could it with a hand pressed against her mouth?
“I’ll rip the fucking things out if you don’t! Now be a good girl, and give them to me. My patience is starting to wear thin.”
There were so many things Steff wanted to ask Cynthia, but doing so would show her hand. She had to keep them locked down until she had a better idea of what the hell was going on, and how she was going to get herself out of the situation she found herself in.
And she would. She’d hadn’t come this far with her life by giving in so easily. Her heart rate was increasing, and black spots were forming in the corners of her vision, but she wasn’t going tosuccumb to a panic attack. It would be the worst thing that could happen in this moment, and wouldn’t do any good.
She had to keep control.
Think of Dalton.
Remember the feel of his arms around you.
The way he always tells you you’re safe.
She mentally scoffed at the last one, but she was a fraction calmer.
“Steffanie!”
The person standing in front of her wasn’t the Cynthia she’d known in the past. That person was gone, and Steff mourned the loss, knowing that the reason for it was because of what happened to them. The trauma they’d gone through.
Maybe there was a chance she could talk her friend down. If she did what Cynthia wanted, there could be opportunities to change her mind from the course she’d decided to travel down.
Steff nodded and, once again, reached up to her ears, this time she removed the earrings and held them out for Cynthia.
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” She opened her hand and let the jewelry fall to the ground, before stomping on them. The crystals disintegrated in a spray of shards.
She couldn’t hold back a whimper at the loss of any chance of Dalton being able to find her.
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure your knight will do everything possible to find you. In fact, I’m counting on it.”
That didn’t make any sense at all… unless—she slammed the door on that thought. Steff had to believe she had a way to get through to Cynthia, to stop her from whatever she had planned.
“I’m going to remove my hand. Do you promise not to scream?” Cynthia pressed her hand harder against her mouth, which in turn squashed her head against the wall.
As much as it may seem weak to others, compliance was the best course of action if she had any hope of surviving.
Whatever Cynthia had planned, wherever she was going to take her, Steff was going to look for any means of escape.
She nodded once again. Cynthia dropped her hand, allowing her to suck in some deep breaths. Steff cringed, inhaling the foulness of the alley they were in.
