Page 382 of The Harmless Series


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Of course there is.

“Blood tests later showed some kind of drug in me.”

“Drug?” I gasp. “Like the roofies they slipped in my drink?”

“No,” he says slowly, transfixed on a spot behind my shoulder. “Something different.”

“Different?”

“An immobilizer. Meant to keep me awake but unable to move.”

“What? I don’t understand.” But his words slowly make a horrific kind of sense. “They paralyzed you?”

“Something like that.” His face closes off. I can tell there’s more to this, but frankly, what he’s told me is already too much to handle.

“Drew, this is all crazy!” I say, a sick form of laughter bubbling up from my gut. “You expect me to believe that?”

“You expect me to believe you didn’t tamper with your own brakes even though your fingerprints are all over the hoses?”

We stare at each other.

A standoff.

All I can do is blink, my head a roaring freight train.

“You—you didn’t just sit there and watch it—a-a-a-and let it happen?”

“I can’t believe you thought that. I can’t fucking believe that you would think that I would ever, EVER let someone do that to you! Defile and debase you in front of my own fucking eyes while I couldn’t—”

“WHAT ELSE WAS I SUPPOSED TO THINK?” I roar.

“They said they would blow your head off if I moved. Not that I could move if I wanted to,” he huffs. “I didn’t care if they killed me, Lindsay. I’ve spent years wondering if I’d have been better off if they had.”

“Me, too. I wish they had killed me.”

“Don’t say that! Don’t you dare say that!” he says savagely, shaking me slightly.

“Why now?” I whimper. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because they’re doing it again. This time, you’re the target again. And I don’t know why. Just like last time, I don’t know why.” His eyes are brooding and intense. “But unlike four years ago, this time I have tools. Weapons. Skills. And a network of people who have been carefully cultivated to make sure that what happened before never, ever happens again.”

“You didn’t just let them.” I can’t stop saying it.

“No, I didn’t.”

I close my eyes.

“They got away with it.”

“Yes.”

“They’ll get away with it again.”

“Fuck no, they won’t.”

“You said they’re famous. A baseball player, a celebrity, and a politician. How did that happen? How deep does this go?” I pluck one of Daddy’s favorite phrases from my memory. “How high up the chain of command does this penetrate?”

“If I knew, I’d tell you.”

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