The car starts with a slightly worrying grind, and she puts it into gear.
‘I’m not sure I’m ready for this, but here we go, I guess,’ she mutters.
Moving forward a few metres, she brakes.
‘Sorry, I almost forgot.’
I watch as she opens the glove box and pulls out a syringe. My pulse spikes, and I move my hands, fighting against the still ebbing sedatives. She pushes it into my thigh and presses the plunger.
‘I’m so sorry. I really wish I didn’t have to do this, but I don’t think you understand yet. Hopefully, I can explain during the drive. Because I absolutely can’t keep drugging you when we get to my dad’s place. At that point, you need to be up for the game. Otherwise, we’ll both regret it.’
‘Stop,’ I manage to croak.
‘I wish I could. Do you think I want any of this? No.’
The injected fluid rushes through me, deadening any movement from my arms and legs.
London passes by, the last vestiges of escape passing in a sea of glittering lights.
11
MAGGIE
The weight of silence mars the first hour of our journey, each mile of road stretching before us in stilted awkwardness.
What do you say to the man you’ve just drugged,twice, and kidnapped? The usual idle chatter about the weather isn’t going to cut it.
Roman sits still as you like. Albeit, his immobility isn’t much of an option with the paralytic drugs still coursing through his system. I pick up a pack of Polo mints and work one out, popping it into my mouth before holding the packet out.
‘Want one?’ I ask. More out of habitual politeness than anything.
Roman looks at the pack. His eyes slide to mine for one short, scathing look before looking back to the road ahead.
‘A no thank you would suffice,’ I say, dropping the packet back into the cup holder between us.
‘Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not being polite enough to mycaptor?’ His voice drips with sarcasm, and I grip the wheel, swallowing down the urge to bite back at him. I get it, he’s not exactly going to be swapping stories like besties after what I’ve done.
‘I don’twantto do this.’ I maintain my focus on the road as I speak. ‘I don’t have a choice.’
‘There’s always a choice not to be a garbage human being.’ His words sting, but I understand why he thinks that.
‘It’s ten days of your life. That’s it. You can drink champagne, have every whim catered to, and then go home. Hell, I’ll even pay you if you like.’
‘There are people you can pay to hang out with you. You don’t have to go stalking them like a psycho.’
As if I hadn’t considered an escort. I had. But my sister would have seen right through a mystery man appearing for the wedding before disappearing. Roman is my neighbour. A real-life person I could feasibly end up dating. His muscles drift through my head, and I recalibrate the thought. Okay, maybe notfeasible, but explainable at least.
‘There’s a lot behind thewhyof my reasoning, but really, it’ll be best for you to just go along with it. Best for both of us. All I need is for you to play along as my boyfriend for a few days. You don’t even need to kiss me or anything. Society often expects couples to keep all of that behind closed doors. We have hours to figure out a story?—’
Roman cuts me off, derision filling every word. ‘And why would I play along with this ruse? Why won’t I just tell them you’ve gone crazy and kidnapped me?’
Inhaling deeply, I steady my nerves. Time to drop a few truths.
‘There are two reasons. One: Because I know who you are. I know that you pretend to be this celibate spokesman for people who want to win in life, or whatever, but I also know it’s all a lie. I have footage of you with a woman in your bed, and more of you kissing them in the corridor.’
‘You’re a freak.’ His voice is deep. An angry hiss.
‘Well, I guess maybe I am. But you’re a hypocrite. And a liar. I’m not pretending to be anything other than a freak. You have more to lose by not playing along than I do.’
