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But Icanremember the feel of his kiss with painful clarity. Just like I can call to mind flawless images of him naked.
For fuck’s sake, I can even remember the way his come tasted in my mouth.
How exactly I managed to ruin my life, though—thatremains foggy.
I feel betrayed by my own fucking brain.
Not to mention that bitch, Drunk Sammi. Fuck, I hate her.
I’m thinking there may be something to that when I hear yet another door open ahead.
Even confined to darkness, I know we’ve reached the exit.
The smells of Bangkok filter down to me, stronger than I remember them being.
The asphalt and oil, searing meat and boiling vegetables. Maybe it’s because I’m short one of my senses, but I feel like I can smell every grimy detail.
The hand is at my back again, urging me forward.
This time, though, I can’t will myself to obey.
We’re at the mercy of the fucking Bangkok mafia! Who knows where they’re taking us? Not to mention what will happen once we arrive.
“Move!” the disembodied voice of a man shouts.
I plant my feet.
I hear him curse in Thai and steel myself for whatever comes next.
The blow I’m imagining never lands.
Instead, I feel myself being lifted from my feet, cradled like a bride about to cross the threshold.
“Put me down!” I scream, wriggling wildly.
“Sammi!” Percy yells from up ahead.
I know it’s pointless, but I can’t seem to help myself.
I thrash and kick, screaming into the bag that blinds me.
Again, I hear the don’s laughter. Again, hands tighten around me like a vice.
“Motherfucker!” I scream.
Up ahead, I hear the familiar sound of a car door opening, immediately followed by a second.
“Hey,” Becky yells. “Watch the hands!”
I hear Liam’s growl. It’s practically feral, promising violence.
Somehow, the sound stills me, driving the panic from my brain.
Obviously, this isn’t working. I’m not going to escape.
Even if it were possible, though, how could I? My friends would still be here, bound and bagged, headed off to God knows where.
How the hell could I leave them now?
