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What if he’s lying about not hurting me?
“Oh, it’s fine.” He waves a hand at me dismissively. “You’ve already helped me, Ari. You played your part very well today, and I have the prize to show for it.”
My mental pep talk abouthow to get through torturestops dead, my inner voice going silent almost instantly. “But I didn’t do anything,” I say, sure of that much at least.
“You didn’t need to. We have your phone, and we have you.” He shrugs. “It was only a matter of time before one of Cyril’s dogs came sniffing at the door.”
What?
My heart speeds up, pounding between my ribs, and my breathing starts to hasten as well. What is he talking about? How in the world can he have one of them when I didn’t–
Maybe he’s lying.
God, I can only hope that he’s lying.
“It’s my recommendation that you forget any of this ever happened, Arista,” Declan says, drawing me back to reality even though a fist is squeezing my heart to the point I feel I mightdie. “Go back to your life. Go back to your bookshop. You won’t be hearing from us again, I assure you. And Christie will be taking you home.” He gestures to her, and she helps me to my feet.
I go, stumbling after her numbly, and feel a bit like a ragdoll as she manhandles me.
“But…why?” I whisper, trembling.
A smile curls on his lips, and it’s every bit as unfriendly as the rest of him. “Because this is business, little girl. And there are always consequences foreverydecision. Cyril just needs to learn that he should make his own decisions better.”
Christie pulls me out the door at that, using strength that she doesn’t seem able to possess to all but drag me down the hallway. I’m not much help, dizzy as I am, but when I hear a familiar voice belt out a threat, I freeze. My gaze meets hers, and her lips press together.
“Don’t,” she says, but I’m already tearing away from her. Islamopen the door on the other side of us, falling into the room with my eyes locked on the struggling, snarling shape that’s being forced into a chair, handcuffs on his wrists.
“Isaac!” I scream, my heart feeling like it’s coming to a dead stop in my chest as my stomachtwistspainfully.
He looks at me, his eyes wide, and blood pours down his face from a cut on his brow. Then he looks at Christie, who’s pulling me up behind him, and spits blood at her. “You said you’d let her go,” he sneers, and she scoffs in response.
“I’m trying,” she snaps, pulling me back towards the door.
“No!”I scream, hanging onto the door frame with all my might. “No!I’m not going to go–Isaac!”
“It’s okay, Ari!“ he calls, and though I can’t see him anymore, I imagine him to be smiling with reassurance even thoughnothing is okayand I might never see him again.
I sob, tears running freely down my face as I try to get back to him. “Don’t! Take meback!”I scream, turning to shove at Christie even as she pulls me out the main door of the house.
“No,” she says, grabbing my shoulders. “There’s no use, Ari. He’s already dead.” She forcibly leads me to a van, where she immediately pushes me into the windowless back that’s devoid of any kind of light and slams the door. “There’s no getting out of here for him, okay?” she says, panting from the exertion of dragging me out of the house. “Justlet it go. They were never yours anyway, and you’re better off without them.”
I stare at her, eyes wide and wordless, as she slams the door in my face and hope to God that in the struggle, she didn’t see me power on my phone and drop it in the thick shrubbery beside the driveway.
