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My stomach falls through the floor, blood picking up speed like it’s a horse in the Kentucky Derby on its last leg.
What the fuck am I supposed to believe right now?
My phone rings again. Same number. I pick up. Maybe it’s Silas on a new line.
“Drew? Jesus, Drew, get the fuck out of there.” It’s Mark Paulson.
“Mark? What? Did Silas tell you -- ”
“I’m not the one who got you released from jail, Drew.”
“What?”
“I didn’t get you released. I was in D.C. with Galt, trying to use every connection we have between the two of us. I was obstructed and stalled in every way you can imagine. My dad said he’d never seen anything like it, and if Galt Halloway can’t get shit done, you know there’s something deep at play.”
“You’re saying Stellan, Blaine and John got me sprung?”
“I’m saying,” Mark says slowly, as I watch Blaine Fucking Maisri waltz into my bedroom and rip Lindsay and John apart, then turn and say something to Jane, “that you’ve been set up even more than you ever imagined. Whoever got you out of jail, and whoever blocked my dad and me from getting you out, has power that goes all the way to the fucking top.” I keep flipping between watching the scene on the other side of the wall and listening to Mark, my phone flying fast and furious between my eyes and my ear.
“Where are you, Paulson? And why should I trust you? You’re telling me you’re not the one who got me out, and -- ”
“Drew, you don’t have a choice. We’re on our way.”
Can’t trust Lindsay, can’t trust anyone. I look at my screen and there’s Blaine, on top of Lindsay on the bed, and she’s screaming.
I feel the screaming in my bones.
And then the screaming ends, abruptly, like a snapped wishbone, like a twig turned to kindling, like death is a fulcrum you use to break everything to pieces.
“No time. They’re going in for the kill now, Mark. Now,” I whisper, hanging up.
And then I ready my weapon as Blaine cups Lindsay’s breast, his hand going lower, lower...
My leg’s ready to kick in the panel. Milliseconds before I deploy the kick, John leans down, his face filling my phone.
As I let all the kinetic energy in my body release, my gun in my hand, my mind a blank slate, he says, “Hi, Drew.”
Chapter 9
Lindsay
My hearing’s shut down, the sound of my own blood rushing through me so strong, I almost miss the splintering gasp of wallboard breaking. Drew crashes into the room like something out of an action movie. He’s holding a weapon in each hand and Blaine’s on me, his cock rubbing hard against my thigh through his pants, his wet mouth demanding my lips, my tongue, my attention.
A sound like thunder in my ear makes me scream deep in my throat, biting hard on Blaine’s tongue. I taste copper and pain, then he twitches and trembles, the violent shakes so bad I feel electrocuted.
And then he slumps forward, deadweight, crushing me.
Can’t breathe.
Can’t hear.
Can’t see.
Can’t anything.
Oh, thank God.
It’s over and I’ll just faint and fade out and be nothing and oh drew oh drew i love you and please please please --
