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"Please, don't kill me," I whisper as panic surges through me. I taste it on my tongue, sharp and metallic.
"Get in the car and drive," Jimmy growls, pressing the gun deeper into my back.
"Jimmy, don't do this," I plead quietly. "You don't have to do this."
"I said get in the fucking car and drive," he repeats, pushing me to get me moving.
I lurch forward on unsteady legs, my knees trembling beneath me. Bile crawls up my throat and tears fill my eyes. He's going to kill me. He’s lost everything, and now I have to pay for it. That's how men like him operate. It's never their fault. They shift the blame for their misdeeds to someone else. Always, someone else has to pay the price.
He marches me to the passenger side of the VW Bug Andreas bought me on my eighteenth birthday and forces me to unlock the door.
"Get in and crawl into the driver's seat," he orders, prying my bag from my hands. He tosses it in the back, ensuring my phone and anything remotely useful is out of my reach. "If you try anything stupid, I will shoot you." A bitter, mocking laugh cracks from his lips. "My life is over anyway, thanks to you."
I bite my tongue, fighting back a hot retort. Even now, I want to argue. Even now, anger rises swiftly, called to the surface by his utter lack of responsibility for his own actions. If his life is over, it's the consequence ofhisactions, not mine.
I never asked him to sexually harass me when I was a teenager, and neither did any of those other girls. He chose to do that himself. He thought he could get away with it because he was rich and powerful and the rules didn't apply to him. He was wrong.
I'm not his karma. I'm just the one who helped Zane and Jude ensure it knew where to find his evil, predatory ass.
He shoves me, forcing me into the car. I bang my knee against the doorframe, crying out as pain ripples through me and I fall into the seat. I quickly scramble over the console into the driver's seat, praying to God that someone sees what's happening and calls the police.
Jimmy climbs into the car with me, slamming the door. He keeps his gun pointed at me, his eyes wild. "Drive," he snaps.
"Where?"
A psychotic smile twists his lips. "You know where."
My father's estate.Of course.
Please, God,I pray.Please don't let that place and this man be the last things I see.
* * *
Iconsider running us off the road or crashing into another car at least fifteen times on the way across town, but decide against it. I don't want anyone else to get hurt. And Andreas will know something is wrong when the alarm system goes off at the estate. I promised him I would go straight to Zane’s apartment.
He'll call me. When I don't answer, he'll know something is wrong.God, please let him know something is wrong.
I park in front of the estate, so freaking afraid I can't breathe.
"Get out," Jimmy orders me. "Don't try to run, or I'll shoot you."
"I won't run," I whisper. "Please, just put the gun down. We can talk about this."
"Now, you want to talk?" He barks laughter, the sound devoid of humor. "You were too fucking good to talk to me at the airport, acting like a stuck-up bitch. Get out of the car. "
I climb from the car on wooden legs.
Jimmy exits from the passenger side, immediately swinging the gun to point it at me. Somehow, he looks more like the man I know and nothing like him at the same time. The mask he wears for the rest of the world is gone, leaving the real Jimmy to shine through. The ugly monster. The hateful, selfish, evil man.
Did my father create him, or was he always this person? I don’t know. I don't think I want to know. But I have a feeling I'm going to find out before all is said and done.
"Let's go," he says, circling around the car to grab my elbow. He marches me toward the house, walking so swiftly that I practically have to jog to keep him from dragging me along with him.
He releases me at the front door long enough for me to unlock it, and then shoves me inside. I force myself not to glance toward the alarm, praying Jimmy doesn't notice it. Praying he doesn't read the signal codes flashing on the display.
"This should have been mine," he says. "All of this should have been mine."
"You want the house?" I turn wide eyes on him. "Take it, Jimmy. It's an albatross around our necks. We never wanted it!"
