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For a brief moment, I wonder if he’s actually read any of them. Perhaps his secretary crafted the email. Maybe he’s been lying this whole time.
“I’d say it’s a tie betweenDeadly GamesandFor You I Would. Deadly Gamesbecause it’s your debut and the first one I read of yours, butFor You I Wouldeasily had the best twist I’ve ever read. I mean, the fact that we didn’t realize the POV trickery until the end…” He kisses his fingertips like a chef. “I still haven’t quite figured out how you pulled that one off. I thought for sure Donovan was the killer.”
I smile, my belly bubbling with pride. “Thank you. That’s one of my favorites, too. I didn’t actually have that twist figured out until near the end of the first draft.”
“No kidding?”
I nod, taking another drink.
“I can’t wait to tell Audrey that.”
“What about you?” I ask. “Have you always wanted to work in film and television?”
His head tilts to the side slowly. “Well, I wanted to be an actor first. But I always knew I wanted to do something with film, yes. So, when acting didn’t pan out, producing was something that intrigued me. Luckily, it was a good fit.” He glances up at the house around us as if to say it worked out pretty well. “Would you like some more?” He points to my glass, which is empty. I’d hardly noticed I drank it all. “Then we can sit down and chat before dinner’s ready. We’re having lamb. I hope that’s okay.”
I’ve only had lamb once while on a family vacation, so my mind instantly goes to Declan and Liam, but I ignore the pain, forcing images of their smiling faces away. My drink can’t be refilled fast enough. “Sounds delicious.”
He takes my glass from me, and we head for the kitchen. As he prepares my drink, I send Kassara another quick text.
Made it inside. Still alive and well.
“So, where do you live, Mari?”
“Downtown,” I tell him, shoving my phone back into my purse, embarrassed to see he’s caught me on it. “Near Westside.”
He nods, not revealing if he knows the area, and passes my glass back to me. I glance down at the island, studying the marble veining. Slowly, I trace a finger across it. “You have a beautiful home.”Did I already say that?
“Thank you.” His voice is slower this time, like he’s mulling over the words. Suddenly, there’s a sharp ache in the back of my head. I no longer feel electric. Instead, I feel as if I’m static. The buzzing in me has begun to dull. I take another drink, trying to bring myself back.
This is not the time to lose it. I need to be here. Be present.
I’ve never felt this way, like my nerves are pulling me down. Like I’m sinking. I place the glass on the island, terrified I’ll drop it. I picture the glass shattering around my feet in slow motion.
“Mari? Is everything alright?” He says the words, but there’s no emotion in his voice.
I can barely hear him.
What’s happening?
I put a hand to my chest, searching for my heartbeat as the room begins to spin. I feel drunk—though I haven’t had nearly enough to drink—and like I’m having a panic attack all at once. “I don’t… I’m so sorry. I don’t feel so well.”
“Maybe you should sit down.” He takes hold of my arm, but it’s too late. I feel myself slipping. And then, before I know what’s happening, everything—him, me, the house—it all disappears. There is only black.
CHAPTERFOUR
When I open my eyes, the world is fuzzy and unfamiliar. I’m not sure where I am or why I’m here. My head is heavy and throbbing, like I’ve had too much to drink, and my throat feels like sandpaper.
I stare around, blinking and rubbing my eyes as I sit up in a bed I don’t remember getting into. My mind scours my memories, searching for anything familiar. The room is dark and humid, with an earthy smell, and there are no windows in any of the concrete walls. The space is illuminated by only a single lamp next to the bed, giving the air an amber glow. It feels like the basement in my cousin’s house in Illinois, but it’s so rare to find a basement here in Charleston, I know that can’t be it.
Unless I’m no longer in Charleston.
How did I end up here?
The last thing I remember is…meeting Owen. What happened after I left?DidI leave? Did I do something to embarrass myself in front of him?
Mortification swells in my chest as I search for memories that don’t exist. I lift the covers off my legs and slip out of bed.
Perhaps I’m still dreaming. Maybe Kassara’s jokes about being locked in a concrete room have gotten to my head. The floor beneath my feet does seem to be concrete, after all, though it has been covered with thin, cheap carpet. It’s uncomfortable and cold as I walk across it. I search for my purse or my phone, but neither appear to be in this room. My bladder burns for relief, and I head for the door.
