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“Not so fast.” Charlie's large hand wraps around my upper arm and forces me to an abrupt stop.
“I'm not fucking doing this with you again!” I yank back and forth. “Let me—aargh!” Something sharp stabs me in the side of my shoulder and a cold, dopey feeling rushes through my veins.
Within seconds, my brain goes fuzzy and I fall back in Charlie's arms, my legs buckling under me.
“Wha... what have you done to me...” I say breathlessly, trying to grab my shoulder but my hands are all floppy.
“Shhh... S'all right, Blaire,” he whispers in my ear from behind, stroking my hair back out of my face. “You're gonna be all right.”
The world goes dark.
9
“Take off your clothes, Blaire, or I will,” Charlie says in a deep, low voice. He's staring at me from across the dark bedroom, around fifteen feet away. It's almost too dark to see him, but I can, his tall, broad frame blocking my way to the door. He's standing there prepared for combat, his legs slightly open. He thinks I'll try to fight him and he's right to assume that because I will.
Swaying on my feet, I clutch the bedpost with one hand. I'm trying to gain focus so I can consider if what Charlie told me about Maksim bartering me is the truth but I'm still groggy from whatever he gave me.
I'm not sure it's true—I don't need to be sober to come to that conclusion. I don't think Maksim would trade me for anything. I mean too much to him—or, I thought I did, but here I am.
Maybe I do still mean something to him because Charlie just told me in an attempt to calm me down that Maksim said he's not to ruin me. He doesn't care if they fall out or if Charlie puts a bullet in him, he wants me back alive and in one piece. Then, he insisted one of his best men transports me to this house that feels like it's in the middle of nowhere, refusing Charlie's request to take me himself. Maksim 'apparently' said he wants to know where I'll be, just if anything goes down.
Now, I'm supposed to be here with Charlie Fucking Decena for three months or until he gets bored of me. I don't know how to feel about that. I know nothing of what's going on. I'm not even sure Charlie was telling the truth about Maksim bartering me. I don't trust him.
But again, here I am.
“Go on.” He comes toward me, his feet serious against the wooden floors.
My head is a mazy vapor. I'm so dazed I’m almost stupid, but I'm on my feet, which is what matters. I can fight.
When he reaches me, he tries to get me out of my leather jacket by pushing his fingers in the shoulders. That switch goes off in my head and I weakly grab his wrists but he twists out of my grasp and pins my hands at my sides.
“Just relax,” he says, his breath warming my face. “You must feel light headed.”
Resisting the urge to scream at him, I let my head roll to the side so I can hide in my hair. I wait a moment until his grip on me loosens.
“What did you give me?” I ask, staring into the darkness.
“Just a little something to put you down so you couldn't resist,” he’s still whispering. “But don’t worry, it'll wear off.”
When his hands over mine loosen, I slip out of his grasp and slam my fists into his chest, knocking him back a few steps. I'm strong for a small girl but just pushing him puts me out of breath. I lean into the bedpost on my shoulder. I'm not at full strength and my head is so cloudy. I can't think straight—the last twenty-four hours are like looking into a black hole—but I need my wits about me. I need to assess the situation!
Focus, Blaire,I will myself.
I remember telling Maksim that I cannot get his fifteen minutes, and I remember Charlie kissing me. I remember talking to Charlie in the kitchen and briefly waking up in the back of Maksim's SUV—I know it was Maksim's SUV because I could smell his brut scent. It was dark and the road we were driving along was bumpy. I could still taste Charlie's blood in my mouth.
My eyes widen.
“No,” I breathe out, a lump forming in my throat.
“Blaire?” Charlie hunches down to look at my face hidden behind my hair. “What's wrong? Do you feel ill?”
In a moment of madness, to save my ass from whatever he has planned, I reach for my gun in my jacket pocket, hoping to fucking god he hasn't taken it.
Cold metal against my palm.
Relief sweeps through me.
I pull out my gun, and though it's heavy, I'm sure not to drop it, gripping it with both hands. I lift it high enough to aim at Charlie's head. He's standing there in mute shock.
