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“Jameson none of your fucking business.”
Her laugh is softer, some of the fear making its way back in. “Why did you pick me for this, though? Is it because we ran into each other on the street?”
“No. That was a total coincidence,” I lie. It wasn’ttotal.I was there to get a sense of the judge’s house for my eventual revenge plot. The only coincidental thing was that Lily was going for a run.
“It’s seriously because you think I’m hot?”
I think she’s incredibly hot, and I have nothing to base that on. A conversation we had months ago. The weight of her in my arms. The shine of her hair in shitty garage lighting. Glimpses of her in the rearview mirror. It’s a senseless, unnecessary judgment. “You’re okay.”
“Wow.” A note of real offense in her voice. “You’re an asshole.”
“Did you expect me to be different?”
Because I’m not different, and the situation is worse than run-of-the-mill assholery. It’s far worse than that. An asshole would’ve come to his senses by now. An asshole would beboredfrom her lack of a fight. An asshole would’ve stopped this by now in the name of self-preservation.
I’m well aware of the stakes. Mason will fire me. Gabriel will be furious. Remy will be heartbroken.
I take that back. Mason might not have to fire mein person. The cops always show up eventually to put me in jail. This time, it’ll be for life.
Despite all this, I’m not afraid. I’m not second-guessing myself. I’m notbored.
I’m excited for everything I’m going to do to her.
8
LILY
Jameson None Of My Fucking Business takes the 279 North, then east, then north again. I try to memorize the route, but it’s just the highway. I stop paying attention to street names when we pass the signs for Jackson Heights.
He’s not going to stop, and he’s not going to take me to Manhattan.
In the white-noise hum of the road noise, I concentrate on remainingcapable.It would be much easier to sink down in my seat and feel like a total fool. I’ve spent most of my life staying on therightpath. I makeonefree-spirited decision, and—boom. Kidnapped.
It was probably always this dangerous for me to perform at The Membership, and I didn’t want to believe it. Some part of me didn’t want my grandfather to be right about my mom. I wanted to believe that running off to cater to my most selfish desires wassafe.
It’s obviously not.
Jameson’s quiet for a while. We’re past the brightest lights of the city and cruising through suburbs at ten over when I can’t run through my nonexistent escape options another second.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere private.”
In his voice, it sounds good. Sexy. Kidnappers shouldn’t have voices like that, all smooth and teasing and warm. I shouldn’t like the sound of him no matter what he sounds like.
It could be a good sign, though.
God. Why am I letting the sound of his voice give me any hope at all? My grandfather would be so disappointed if he knew. He would consider this ridiculous hope to be a failure of analysis. The facts of my life are that my mother has never returned, and from the phone call I overheard, he’s never found her. That’s a sign that someone is dead.
That’s howI’llend up unless I can either escape or convince Jameson to like me.
“How long are you going to keep me there?”
His eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. “As long as it takes.”
Images flash through my mind, mostly thriller-movie stuff. Duct tape over my mouth. Bound wrists. A single lightbulb. “To do what?”
He doesn’t answer.
