Page 76 of The Stalking King

Conrad Vale presses a button on the phone, presumably muting the microphone based on what he says next. “Say anything about this location, you die. And I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to get my hands on that doe-eyed mommy of yours too. Got it?”

I swallow, nodding. “I understand.”

He presses the button again, holding the phone out to me.

“Maksim?”

He breathes an audible sigh of relief.

“Lia,” he says. “Have they hurt you?”

“No,” I reply. “The crash did. I… I pushed us off the road. Is Nikolai okay?”

He makes another noise, confusion and heartache coming through. “He survived. I can’t believe you’d ask about him now.”

“It’s not his fault.”

“It is, but let’s not worry about that now. I’m going to get you out of there.”

“What about my mother?” I ask.

“Safe,” he assures me. “But very, very worried.”

“Enough?” Conrad grunts. “Do you have sufficient proof?”

“I love you, Lia,” Maksim says fiercely. “I know it shouldn’t make sense. I know you can’t say it back. I know Conrad’s got that shit-eating sneer on his face, but I love you.”

“Tick, tock,” Conrad says, then hangs up the phone. He aims a mocking pout at me. “How cute.”

He turns and strides toward the exit.

More hours pass, and I’m dangerously close to peeing myself. I focus on Maksim’s words, his beautiful words. He said I love you as though it makes any sense. As though, through those stolen minutes watching me and the short time we’ve spent together, we grew something impossible.

He understood I couldn’t say it back. He knew it was too fast for me. He knew I’m wired differently to him, more cautious, worried about leaping in with both feet when this could all end in ruin.

But deep down, I feel a flicker, an ember that could easily become a raging inferno. Maybe it already has, and I just don’t want to let myself feel it.

Yet.

I breathe slowly, trying to remain calm, but my body is in pain, and my mind is a battlefield. I can’t see a way out of this. Does Maksim even know where I am? Has he tracked Conrad, or is he searching in the dark, blind, hands raised uselessly in front of him?

“I need to use the bathroom,” I say.

The man grunts, glaring at me.

“I’m going to pee myself.”

He grunts again.

“I don’t know how all this works.” I nod to the stacks of server towers. “But my bladder is very full. What if some of it trickles into the electronics? Won’t your boss be mad?”

He looks at me longer this time, thinking. “You’ll try something.”

I shake my head. “What can I possibly try? You’re twice my size, and you’ve got a gun. I was injured in the car crash. I think I’ve got a broken rib. I’ve definitely got a concussion, since I passed out.”

“Hold it in,” he says gruffly.

“I can’t. I’m not kidding.”