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“You are here to serve others,” Jason says coldly.
“I am here to serve others,” I immediately reply.
“He’s one of The Men, Princess,” Jason says sadly. “I nearly failed you.”
Cam’s face goes slack.
“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way,” Jason says to Cam, who grunts as the gun is pressed deeper into his skin.
“Pick up Winnie,” Cam says to me, eyes filled with pain. “Don’t let them hurt her.”
Jason rolls his eyes. “I’m not the one who’ll hurt her. You are.”
“Simon would never hurt me!”
“What was he saying to you, Princess?” Jason asks, eyes kind. The kindness feels hollow, though.
Fake.
Like he’s playing me for the fool.
“He was teaching me about Winnie.”
Jason rolls his eyes again.
“Look, bud. I don’t know who you are,” he says to Cam, “but if you want to live, you’ll start walking back to the house. I don’t want witnesses.”
“Witnesses?” I say, my voice going high. “Jason, what do you mean?”
“He’s going to kill me, Paigelynn,” Cam says. “That’s what he means.”
I do not think. I do not pause. Instinct makes me lunge for Jason, the surprise on his face making it clear he never expected this from me.
For some reason, that makes me rageful.
“Stop right there,” he says, turning his body, taking the blow from my fists against his back. “I’ll shoot him if you keep going, Princess. Rather have witnesses and a mess we need to clean up after the fact than have him kidnap and violate you.”
He means it. I know he means it.
And now I don’t know what to do.
If we march back to the house, Jason will kill Cam there. If we don’t go back, he’ll kill him on the street. This is a no-win situation. None of my training has prepared me for this.
“We’ll go,” Cam says pleasantly, pleading eyes catching mine. “Let’s go back to the house.”
They begin walking, Jason at his side, holding his arm. They look weird, and I search the neighborhood, hoping for someone to be outside, performing a mundane task like taking out garbage or watering a small garden. Picking up their mail.
Doing anything.
But no. The streets are quiet. Too quiet.
My heart starts screaming, blood racing as we walk. Jason says nothing, his face impassible, and as we pass the ornamental grass cluster, I see the dog training van in front of the house.
Every step we take brings us closer to Cam’s death.
“You will not kill him,” I insist, moving closer to Jason, Winnie nearly tripping me. If I loosened her leash, could I somehow trip Cam and Jason? Give Cam a chance to escape?
“Pick up the dog, Princess. We don’t want you tripping and getting any bruises. Bruises look terrible on your wedding day,” Jason says in a flat, demanding voice.
