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No one is coming for me. My phone is somewhere in the limo, so no one can track me, and there are four of them. Panic seizes me. Shit.
We race onto the highway, speeding down the dark lane, and Del dips off to the left suddenly, taking the long, smoothly paved road up to Fox Hill.
The oaks on both sides provide a canopy from the moon and stars, and I can only make out the sheen in Callum’s eyes as I stare at him and he stares back at me. Darkness consumes us, and he knows what’s about to happen as well as I do.
I feel a sting on my neck and know his nail has cut my skin. “You will never come back from this,” I murmur.
“I’m not worried about me.”
“You should be,” I say. “This is gonna hurt.”
No one is really evil. And not many are crazy or sick.
He’s angry. He won’t always feel like this. Is he sure this is a road he wants to cross?
His eyes narrow, and I can tell he’s thinking about it. Can he still let me go? Or has he gone too far and might as well finish?
Reaching behind me slowly, I slip off the gold strappy heels I put Clay in a month ago. I won’t be able to run in them.
Del slams on the brakes, and the SUV screeches to a halt. I dart my gaze out of the window, seeing we’re on the golf course, around the back of the field house. Aracely used to work the beer cart on the course, and I had to pick her up one time.
The doors open, the scent of wood, grass, and sweat hitting me as someone grabs me and pulls me out of the cab. Delaney spins me around and looks down at me as Callum tightens the band around my wrists. A smile lights up Del’s eyes, and I’m not sure this guy has ever looked me in the eye, or knew I existed when he was at Marymount, but he sure knows now.
His eyes trail down and then back up my body, and it hits me that I’m in my underwear. Panties and a little corset, my dress on the floor of the limo.
“What a waste,” he gripes.
And his hands spread over my stomach, sliding to my back, and I fight, hollering until my throat is raw.
And then, all of a sudden, teeth sink into my ass, and I whip around. I kick Milo, not giving him time to fight back before I throw myself on top of him, both of us falling to the ground and my knee slamming into his groin.
“Ah!” he bellows.
I growl, he yanks my hair, pulling my head back, and then someone pushes me off him, and I land on the driveway on my back.
I bolt up, but Callum is there, pinning me down. He places a vial in front of my face. “You wanna remember this?”
I still, my breath hitching for a moment.
I look at the drug and then back to him, my fingers smashed and hurting behind me. He said he didn’t drug people. Would he really use that on me?
I swallow hard, nodding. If he forces that down my throat, I’ll be unconscious. I won’t be able to fight back, run, give a positive I.D.…
He doesn’t want to give it to me. He wants a willing girl. He wants what he thinks we agreed to.
But he’ll take it if he has to.
Motherfucker.
“I doubt I’ll remember it anyway,” I spit out, putting forth what pathetic fight I have left.
He simply chuckles, challenge accepted, and hauls me off the ground.
“Take her.” He shoves me to Milo, who’s rougher as he fists my hair and squeezes my arm.
They lead me inside the dark building, and I spot paintings on the walls in gilded frames and smell all the wood polish and leather furniture. They push me through a sitting area, tables and couches and a bar gleaming in the moonlight streaming through the windows, and after a moment, we’re in a hallway.
My knees shake a little, and I feel tears threaten. I drop my eyes. Please. God, please. I don’t want anyone to hurt me. Please.
I want my dad. I want Macon.
No one can touch me but Clay. This isn’t happening. I’m still in the limo. I’m with her.
In her arms.
A sob escapes, but I push it down, burying it, and grit my teeth.
Fuck him for this. I’m going to kill him.
“There are witnesses,” I say, keeping my tone calm. “There were cameras on the streets.”
“You’ll go home in one piece,” Callum replies. “We had an agreement. I want what you promised.”
I spin around, getting in his face. “I never promised.”
But he just growls in a low voice, “Walk. Walk and pay up, and this won’t have to escalate. I know how to hurt you without laying a hand on you.”
