Page 159 of Wicked Lessons


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He flinches.

“Will you stay calm?” I ask, now with both hands clamped around his mouth.

He nods.

“I’m not messing around,” I say, my voice low. “Those people already punched me in the face. We need to play this cool because we might have only one chance to escape.”

He says something I don’t hear through my finger gag but combines it with a nod.

“Alright, then.” I pull away my hand.

Veer doubles over, coughing hard, making me feel like shit for restricting his breathing.

“Sorry.” I shuffle away from him in search of my bag. “But I couldn’t take any chances.”

“What’s happened?” he asks between rasping breaths.

“You got abducted and they took me along for the ride?”

He turns to me, his eyes wide. “What makes you think I was the target?”

My lips tighten, and I continue patting my hand around the dark interior for signs of my bag.

Veer is obviously in denial. I play along because talking to someone in a situation as dire as this is calming. “Reasons why I think they want you and not me.”

“Go on,” he rasps.

“One, I’m a nobody who comes from an insignificant family. Two, I’ve left the academy every weekend since first year and nobody has so much as paid me much notice. Three, they grabbed you and only thought to take me when I tried to attack your abductor.”

“Oh.” He bows his head.

“Where do you keep your phone?”

“My inside pocket.” He shifts from side to side. “Can you get it?”

I shuffle toward him and pat down his jacket, finding nothing but a handful of receipts. “They must have taken it.”

“Makes sense.”

“Do you have anything else, like a GPS tracker?”

Veer hesitates.

“What?” I ask.

“My dad gave me a watch that has GPS, but…”

“But digital watches don’t match your vintage aesthetic?” I ask.

“I never thought anyone would snatch me off the street,” he mutters. “Maybe I should have because it’s happened twice before.”

“No!”

“First when I was a baby and then I was eight.” His voice breaks, and he stutters through a story about how members of the Irish mob kept him hostage for a week.

Adrenaline surges through my system, and my pulse pounds so hard that I can’t focus on the details. We have no way of communicating with the outside world and my only weapon is a hairpin that’s probably only good for attacking one abductor.

Since I’m not the target, once these guys take Veer to their boss, I’ll become surplus to requirements. My throat tightens and the noose that I worked free from before feels like it’s returned to throttle my neck.

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