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“I hate you,” I whisper back.
He straightens up, swallowing his saliva with difficulty while his gaze still catches mine. He nods as if he understands my words but refuses to get them into his fucking head.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask him a little louder.
He doesn’t answer me.
The guy at the front of the car seems taken aback by our exchange. “Well, why wouldn’t he? We train potential wolf cubs before we bring them into the Pack,” the driver laughs. “Tucker came up with the idea last year, we’re not going to give up on that now.”
Tucker isn’t laughing. His fists are clenched a little more tightly as he clenches his jaw. And suddenly, I understand. He doesn’t want me to go either. He doesn’t want to take me to this place I don’t know where, but he has no choice. He’s the one who had imposed these fucking lousy rules. He can’t give them up in front of everyone without looking weak. Breaking them by removing the bag so I can breathe better is one thing, but outright cancelling a trial is another. He already broke the rules the first time in the chapel, and he can’t do it again today.
But what’s next for me? Why did I get that damn ribbon, why did I let myself get caught up in this whole absurd joke?
The worst part…the worst part is this little spark of excitement that lights up inside me. This unhealthy curiosity. Because, in spite of everything, I’m in a hurry to know what’s going to happen.
***
I remain silent, lost in my thoughts. Cold anger grows inside me as I push away the exhilarating feeling that came over me moments before. I’m not allowed to feel an adrenaline rush when I’m stuck in a game I don’t know the rules to, right?
I don’t react when Tucker squeezes my hand once. I also don’t react when the vehicle stops in the middle of nowhere. But when the guy who was driving hands the bag to Tucker to put on my head again, I panic. I back up against the back of my seat and glare at them.
“No,” I say curtly.
Tucker picks up the bag but doesn’t make another move. My reaction makes the other guy laugh, and he retorts with a mocking look, “Stop being afraid, you’re not going to kill each other. It’s just a little thing. I was scared last year too, but I managed to get out in two minutes with a sexy little blonde as a partner.”
I don’t listen to his words, but my brain analyzes them without my permission. “I won’t get out of the car. I swear, if you force me, I will break your nose.”
The guy stares at Tucker’s hand, which is still holding the bag. He frowns.
“Hey, you have to put this on her. The other three are already ready, we’re just waiting for the Brat.”
As Tucker leans towards me, I back up against the door and send him a brutal blow in the shin. He pushes an expletive and says to the guy who observes us from the driving seat, “Get out.”
The guy looks puzzled. He must know something is wrong. He looks at the bag again and then put it back over my head, with a closed face.
When the guy gets out of the car and I hear the door close, Tucker throws the bag on the floor as if it were burning his hand.
And I throw myself at him, furious. “You bastard,” I yell. “Who do you think you are? You think you can kidnap me and take me somewhere and put a bag over my head? Untie my hands, damn it, untie them! You don’t kidnap people like that! You don’t play with them! You bunch of freaks! Couldn’t you send me a text message?!”
He doesn’t listen to me but grabs my shoulders hard to keep me still. “You have entered the game yourself,” he announces calmly but firmly.
A voice inside me repeats his words. He is right. But I didn’t know what it meant. I didn’t know it would go this far.
“So I want to quit the game,” I tell him. “I have the right to quit, right?” He doesn’t answer me, so I continue. “You didn’t get me through the first test. So take me somewhere else, and don’t force me to pass this one.”
“I can’t,” he blows in my face.
Why can’t he? For his damn reputation or something?
I take a deep breath and let my head fall back against the seat. “You guys are a bunch of nutcases.”
Tucker grabs my jaw in his hand and stares at me without blinking. I feel like he’s probing my soul. I hate this. “You’re excited,” he points out.
I pull my face away from his grip. “Of course not,” I spit out. “I’d have to be stupid to be excited!”
But we both know what it’s like. Something inside me urges me to know more. What’s happening to me?
“I don’t know what to expect, but when this stage is over and my hands are free, you better not be in my way.”
