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“I have a plane.”
“You abducted me.” I can’t make sense of the facts staring me in the eyes. “I don’t even have a passport.”
“You didn’t. You do now.”
“How…You can’t just get a passport overnight.”
He doesn’t answer.
Oh, my God. He came prepared. He came to South Africa with a passport. My kidnapping was well thought out. Premeditated. “Just tell me what you want.”
He crosses his legs as he considers me with his emotionless eyes. Does he even feel anything? Is he a psychopath? His face is rough and unsightly to look at, but it’s the flatness of those sharp, gray eyes that scares me the most.
“Eat,” he says again, “and then we’ll talk.”
I eat, not because I want to, but so he’ll tell me what’s going on. The pancakes are fluffy, but I don’t taste anything.
“Have a strawberry,” he says. “They’re out of season. I had them flown in especially.”
I stare at the bowl of fat, red strawberries. Each one is perfect, almost too pretty to be real. Taking one, I bite into the flesh. Juice runs over my chin. I catch it with my palm. He reaches over the table, offering me a linen napkin. I snatch it from his hand, scrunching it up in my fist before dumping it next to my plate in an impulsive act of defiance.
The warm drink is the only thing I really want. I reach for the tea. “I ate. Now talk.”
Rubbing a thumb over his lips, he seems to weigh his words. After an awkward silence, he says, “We need to borrow you for a while.”
The warm tea scalds my throat as I almost choke on the sip I took. “Borrow me? We?”
“My family.”
I replace the cup on the saucer lest I drop the hot liquid in my lap. “What for?”
“You don’t need to concern yourself over the details. What you need to know is Damian’s life is in your hands.”
Shock runs through me. He—they—intend to keep me. If I don’t comply, Damian will pay. “I have a job, a home, friends—”
“You resigned,” he says. “I already gave up your lease and took care of your outstanding bills.”
“You can’t do that,” I exclaim. “My plant… the cats… nobody else will feed them.”
“Your neighbor kindly took your plant, and I’m paying for the food he’ll feed the cats. He also promised to return your library books.”
I jump to my feet. “You went back to see Bruce?”
“He sent a text to your phone to tell you what happened. He wisely thought he should warn you about the thieves targeting your building. I explained you were with me and wanted me to check on him.”
“You told him I was going away with you. Is that the lie you told him?”
“He was happy for you. Oh, and you’ll also be glad to know I replaced his phone. He was very grateful for the gesture.”
I swallow down my tears. I can’t believe this is happening. “You drugged me.”
“It was easier that way, less stressful for you.”
I curl my hands into balls at my sides. “You don’t know what’s easier for me.”
“Sit down and finish breakfast. We have work to do before I can show you the city.”
“You want to go fucking sightseeing?”
“Mind your tongue, Zoe. We’re really going to have to do something about your language.”
“Is that why you brought me here?” Every muscle in my body is trembling in rage. “As payoff for borrowing me?”
“No,” he says softly. “Not for that.”
“How long exactly is this borrowing supposed to last?”
“Three, four years. It’s hard to say. It all depends.”
Four years? I place a hand over my stomach, feeling sick again. “On what?”
“I can’t say.”
His calm indifference infuriates me. I want to slap him. Kill him. My gaze darts to the teapot. If I throw it into his face—
“Don’t even think about it,” he says. “Gautier and Benoit are right outside. I really don’t want to punish you, but I will. I’m not going to threaten you with Damian again. The next time you disobey me, I’ll put those threats into action.” He gets up and walks over, stopping close to me. “This,” he waves an arm around the room, “is not going to happen every day, maybe never again, so I suggest you make the most of it. Enjoy the food. Enjoy the trip. I went to a lot of effort and spent a lot of money to make this happen for you. Whether you hate it or set aside your pride to enjoy it won’t change your fate. You may as well make the wise choice and make the most of it.”
With his speech done, he watches me with a raised brow, waiting for me to make my decision. I want to fling myself at him in a fit of fury and punch him in his ugly face, but I can’t surrender to my anger. That’s not an option he gave me, not unless I want to suffer the consequences of getting my brother hurt. The wiser option is to tamp down my bitter anger and mad rage, and to obey like a dog.
