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“You want me to talk? He needs to strip down.”
I’m not wasting more time. Quickly, I shed my old Van Halen shirt, each boot, each sock, and I step out of my jeans. They’re gonna want me buck-naked, so I take off my boxer-briefs and cup my dick and balls.
“Turn around,” Hugh orders.
I do a three-sixty.Hurry.
Colin comes at me with a laugh. “What’s this shit?” He tries to rip off my kyber crystal necklace, and I expose my cock to shove him.
“Don’t touch me,” I warn.
“Jeezus.” He glares like I bitch-slapped him again. “You’ve got serious problems, you know that?”
“You kidnapped aHale,” I sneer. “You’re the one with the serious fucking problem.” The living room tenses. Cousins exchange panicked glances.
“It wasn’t kidnapping,” someone says.
“Yeah, she came willingly,” another guy says. “That’s what you’ll convince her to tell everyone. Won’t you, Paul?”
I grind my teeth, tasting acid in my mouth. “No one in her family is gonna believe that.”
Voices jumble, everyone throwing in their two cents at once.
“Time is of the fucking essence here,” my dad cuts in harshly.
“Let’s go to the kitchen,” Hugh says and motions to Liam. “Pick up his clothes. Someone get Paul some underwear.”
Just like that, we’re in the cramped kitchen. Linoleum floors are peeling, and pizza boxes are stacked on a cheap plastic table. It stinks like spoiled milk, and sugar ants march up broken cabinets.
I’m putting on someone’s boxer-briefs. Smells clean, otherwise I’d rather stay naked. They throw my clothes in the sink. Instead of running the faucet, they squirt lighter fluid on my oldest shirt. I watch them torch the Van Halen tee, and I feel nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
She’s all that matters to me.
“Where’s Luna Hale?” I ask them.
“Hold on.” Hugh extends a hand. “Why do you think this is going south?” He’s talking to my dad. “No one tracked us here.”
“We heard they did. Through one of his security buddies.” He turns to me to confirm.
“They know you’re in the vicinity,” I tell everyone. “We came here to warn you.”
“Wenevershoulda taken her, Hugh,” Roark chastises. “That wasn’t the plan.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Hugh retorts angrily.
“Plans change,” someone defends. Don’t know him.
“What was the plan?” my dad asks. “Because this one was dumb as fuck. What’d you think would happen? They’d come looking for her. They’d find you. You’d all get slapped harder than you’veeverbeen.”
“I wasn’t there,” Hugh glares at Liam, at Ryan, at two others I can’t name.
And then I hear athudabove us. My eyes shoot to the ceiling. “Is she up there?” I ask, and when no one answers, I can’t help myself—I can’t stay stationary—I run.
I bolt out of the kitchen and back towards the staircase.
“Paul!” they yell and chase after my breakneck speed. I’ve run away from that name most of my life, and I don’t turn back.
