Page 94 of The Pleasure of Panic

“It said you thought you were playing a game. And do you know what kind of game he told his boss you thought you were playing?”

I close my eyes to shut him out, but he yanks my head back so far, I can’t breathe.

“Open your eyes and look at me, bitch!” And then his other hand is wrapped around my throat, squeezing until I have to. I have to obey and do what he says because I want to breathe again.

“He said you had a fantasy. You wanted to be fucked in front of other people. Well, baby girl”—I close my eyes and whimper a little—“I’m gonna make your fantasy come true. Right here. Right now.”

While all this is happening, Finn was picked up, walked over to where I am, and he’s thrown down next to me. His face bloody, just like mine. One eye almost swollen shut.

But one eye is fully open.

And it winks.

“What?” I breathe, not even making a sound. Just lips moving.

He winks again.

I squint back at him. Tilt my head. Is he fucking with me right now? Is he trying to tell me this is all part of the game?

But he’s not smiling. This is no joke.

Before I can fully imagine what is happening here, the door bursts open and a man walks in.

A man I recognize. A man who should not be here, but is.

He’s older. He has short, white hair. Clean-shaven—in fact, I can smell his aftershave as he walks past me on the floor. I turn my head to follow him. Take in his expensive suit, black trench coat, and American flag pin on his lapel.

Senator Walcott. Chella’s father.

And this is how I know we’re not playing a game.

This is how I know Finn’s wink—blink, whatever it was—wasn’t saying, Be cool, Issy. You’re fine.

It was saying, See you on the other side, babe.

“What in the ever-loving fuck is going on here?” the senator bellows, looking around from face to face until his intent gaze rests on Caleb’s.

Caleb is still kneeling down, holding my hair, hand squeezing my neck, his threat of rape still echoing in my head. But he lets go now. My face falls, hitting the floor, my eyes on Finn and his on mine.

He doesn’t wink again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE - FINN

I know this man. Walcott. Senator Walcott. A part of me is relieved to see him. It puts things in perspective. It all adds up. It almost makes sense.

“Do you know how fuckin’ close you came to being arrested tonight, Senator?” Caleb says.

“What are you talking about? I told you to keep your fuckin’ head down after you got out and what did you do on your first day of freedom? You go and kidnap a girl.”

“Is that what I did?” Caleb says. He starts pacing the floor, making a wide circle around the senator. “Is that what you think this is about? This girl? I didn’t take her,” he sneers. “She was just there when I took him.”

He points at me.

The senator’s gaze lands on me. He squints, confused.

I sigh. Close my eyes. Open them and look at Issy. She’s confused too.

“Who the fuck is this?”