“You will come with me out of your own damn free will … or I will make sure your boy toys are put behind bars for life.”
Boy toys?
My eyes widen, but I keep my lips clamped shut so I don’t give any information away for free.
The outside air is unusually chilly. Especially with all of the students gossiping about us.
“My car is parked outside the gates. Follow.”
So stern, he truly believes this façade of control, doesn’t he?
Too bad for him, I am always three steps ahead.
He doesn’t know it yet, but he will… eventually, they all understand. There is no defeating a scorned woman.
Smiling, I walk with him toward the overgrown gates of Spine Ridge University. He hasn’t looked at me once since we walked out of the building, but I reckon it’s only so he can keep up the charade of being in control.
Not just of me … but of his own needs.
Because I can tell from the little beads of sweat rolling down his neck and the twitching in the palm of his hand that he’s very much affected by my presence.
“Tell me, how many hours does it take for a police officer to escape zip ties?” I ask, tilting my head.
Without so much as flinching, he opens the door to the back seat of his car and says, “Get. In.”
But that twinge of annoyance at the end of each word gives him away.
“Was it five?” I narrow my eyes slyly. “Minutes … or hours?”
His tongue briefly darts out to wet his lips. “I will not repeat myself, Miss Reed.”
“Aw … already calling me miss,” I say. I slink into his back seat. “Who’s a good little cop?”
He slams the door shut in my face, but it only makes me grin harder.
He pulls his phone from his pocket and starts a conversation. I can’t hear what they’re saying, because he’s still outside his car, mouthing heavily into the phone. Then he tucks it away and marches to the driver’s side to open the door and sit down, slamming the door shut equally as harshly.
“Who was that?” I ask. “Someone from the station?”
“A contact.”
A contact. So not a police officer. A contact. An informant. A spy. It could mean anything.
“Put on your seat belt.”
I laugh. “Don’t act like you care.”
“It’s thelaw.”
Keep reciting that, like it means anything to me.
I snort again, but he’s deathly serious, staring at me through the rearview mirror like he’s going to force me if I don’t do what he says.
“I’d rather die in a car crash than go to the police station with you,” I reply coldly.
Suddenly, he leans backward, muscles bulging out of his suit as he grabs the seat belt right beside me and rips it out of its containment to cross it over my body tightly, locking it in place before throwing me the filthiest of scowls imaginable.
And that sweet, sinful rage of his over my inability to follow his asinine rules just made my fucking pussy throb.
