I kissed her with abandon, drinking in the taste of her lips as my hands roamed her soft curves.
When I finally came back to reality, back to the wretched squalor of that room, I wanted to leap across the table, take her in my arms, and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.
There was a moment, no longer than a heartbeat, when she looked into my eyes and gasped, and I swore she’d seen the same thing.
That she’dwantedthe same thing.
Ten
STEVIE
The harsh light on my face is all wrong, the angles shifting too fast, the crappy prison bed rumbling beneath me in a way that crappy prison beds typically don’t.
It takes me half a second to realize I’m not in my prison bed. I’m in a Lexus.
I open my eyes and try to sit up, but my seat is reclined all the way back, restraints locking across my chest as I fight for freedom.
“Relax, Miss Milan,” comes the stern voice by my side. The driver. He hits a button on his door, and my seat tilts upward, the restraints relaxing their grip. Seatbelt. Just a damn seatbelt. “You’re alright. Unharmed, I assure you.”
I unhook the belt and turn to glare at him, taking in the sight of his smug, handsome face as memories rush back in fuzzy fragments.
Dr. Devane, my so-called attorney.
Salad and eggs and lemon kombucha.
The Academy’s offer.
The watch alarm and the Moon card and the pulsing light and the… the gun?
“You shot me!” I gasp, clutching at my chest.
“Did I?” He glances over casually, again with the stupid eyebrow-raise.
My fingers search for the wound, for a tender spot, anything. But there’s no pain, not even a dull ache from the beatings I took in jail. Peeking down the front of my construction-cone-orange jumpsuit, I see nothing but smooth skin. Dirty and slicked with sweat and more than a little ripe, but smooth.
And there’s no blood on my clothing. No holes. If he had shot me, and I’d somehow healed myself, there would still be some kind of evidence.
I blow out a breath. Apparently he’s telling the truth.
“There’s water, if you’d like.” He gestures to the cup holders beneath the radio, where two water bottles sweat it out.
“How do I know it’s not poison?”
He lifts a shoulder, darts a quick glance my way. “Drink it. Fastest way to find out.”
Oh, this one is a laugh-a-minute.
Taking my chances, I grab the water bottle and crack the cap, down half of it in a few gulps.
“Feeling better?” he asks as I relax back into the seat. The superiority in his tone drips as thick as the boob sweat, and just as annoying.
“Other than the fact that you tried to kill me, I’m feeling awesome. Fit as a fucking filly.” I blink the haziness from my eyes and look out the window, trying to get my bearings. It’s afternoon, and we’re still in Arizona, the rose-colored desert whizzing by as Dr. Devane cruises along a lonely stretch of highway.
I wonder how fast we’re going. How bad it would hurt to jump out and roll. I steel a quick glance at the speedometer—sixty-eight miles per hour. The scrub grass lining the highway is a beige smudge out the window, but maybe…
“Don’t eventhinkit.” Devane sighs, condescending as ever. “If you want out, just say so. I’ll pull over.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Sure you will.”
