Page 12

"I'll marry you," she says. "But I want you to know something."

"What's that?"

"I will never forgive you for this."

I return my gun to my jacket. "I don't need your forgiveness, Miss Meadows. I need your hand."

She holds my gaze, and the hatred in her eyes is so raw and real I can almost taste it.

"You'll have it," she says. "And I hope it makes you miserable."

5

SUNNY

He gives me two minutes to pack my entire life into one bag before I'm hustled into the back of a shiny black car and whisked off to God knows where.

The car pulls away from the curb, and I watch my father's house shrink in the side mirror until it's gone.

My hands shake, and I press my palms flat against my knees.

I don’t think these monsters are going to kill me. Not tonight anyway. But it doesn’t mean they won’t hurt me in other ways.

The silence in the car is suffocating. I'm pressed between the twins, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, and the heat coming off Dante's body is ridiculous. He runs hot. Which makes sense considering he comes straight from hell.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" I ask.

I’m not just afraid. I’m terrified of this man. But I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing it. I might have lost control of what’s happening to me, but I can control what I show him. I’m not going to give him any sign of fear because he’ll probably get off on it.

"Home," Dante says without looking at me.

"Your home?"

"Our home.” He turns his head to look at me, and I hate the victory in his eyes and the dark, triumphant tone of his voice. Both make me want to reach beneath his suit jacket and shoot him with his own gun.

“Because nothing says home like being taken from your house by a stranger with a gun,” I murmur.

He ignores me, staring straight ahead with that infuriatingly calm expression that makes me want to scream.

For two blocks, I don’t say anything. But the silence is making everything so much worse, and I can’t stand it. I’m sure they can hear my heart beating like a wild drum as we travel in silence.

Although, my fear starts to slide because this lunatic wants me to be his wife, so the chances of me dying tonight are slim.

Keeping my eyes trained ahead, I say, "I don't even know you.”

"You know my name."

"I know the name of the man who delivers my mail, and I have no interest in marrying him either."

"Your father didn’t steal seven hundred thousand dollars from your mailman."

"No, but he probably wouldn’t threaten him with a gun if he did."

"I didn't threaten your father," he says. "I gave him a choice."

"A choice between his daughter and a bullet isn't a choice. It's coercion."

"It's leverage."