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Gage stands tall and strong as I walk toward him in a long flowing cream gown covered in vintage lace, just like I always wanted. The sweetness in the air from champagne and flowers almost feels real.
He takes my hand when I’m within his reach, pulling me in closer and faster than I expected. I slam into his chest, placing a hand on his arm for balance. We laugh. I smile all the way to my eyes. He doesn’t let go. Just keeps me right up against him.
It feels like more than an embrace. It’s him holding every part of me. Keeping me. Just the way that I am.
Disturbing my fantasy of a dream, a door slams across the room. My eyes would normally spring open, but they blink lazily instead, trying desperately to clear the blurred vision. Muffled sounds that I think are a pair of footsteps filter into my ears, but even my hearing is distorted at the moment. My head lobs to the side at the contact when a hand slaps me on the cheek.
“Time to wake up, princess.”
I attempt to sit up, but with my arms bound in front of me, I can’t use my arms to prop up my upper body. Shouldn’t have skipped all those crunches I guess. Suddenly, the grogginess from the drugs and the inability to think straight or even use my limbs seems silly. I cough out a defeated laugh and a thick metallic taste coats my lips.
“Help her up. We’re not done with her yet, we need videos and pictures.”
“This is a waste of time. Just shoot her. The others will come looking and walk right into a rain of bullets.”
That sobers me, lifting the outermost layers of fog. I only get a few good tugs on my hands to try and break the cuffs before I’m dragged by one leg across the floor to the middle of the room.
An involuntary whimper escapes my lips and I resent it. The last thing I want is for them to think that I’m scared.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I manage to mumble even though my whole face feels numb.
A bright white light is turned on above me, making me squint. I bring my arms up to shield them from the glare, but they’re grabbed and shoved back down to my lap.
“Shut up, bitch,” a voice roars. “Now say cheese.”
The audacity of men.
I roll my eyes into another dimension. I’ve never not kicked a man in the balls for calling me a bitch, and I’m not about to start now.
Wading through the blinding light, I open my eyes to see him standing above me, one foot on either side of my legs. He’s got a phone in his hand and it’s pointed down at me. Most girls would be telling themselves to use their heads right now. And I tend to take that mantra more literally than most.
In a flash, I rear back and bring my hands up above my head. With the last bit of strength that I can muster up, I slam my arms forward as hard as I can. Crotch? Meet elbows.
“Ahh!” he screams out, instantly dropping the phone and buckling at the knees. He’s bent over and at eye level with me now. My mouth forms a tight determined line and I head butt him with enough force to knock him all the way down. Adrenaline helps me to my knees, and I stand one leg at a time.
The throb in my skull is killing me after that, but it was worth it to hit him where it hurts.
“Wimp,” I mutter and spit on his pathetic crumpled-up body on the ground.
A slow clap coming from behind me echoes around the room.
I turn to see a sinister smirk on a man much different looking than the one I just sack-whacked. He’s taller, stronger, and has hair the color of snow. There’s an air of confidence around him that’s unmistakable. I get the feeling he’s running the show.
I huff out a breath, unable to hide my exertion. He looks me up and down, lingering on my rapidly rising chest like a certified creep. The way he licks his lips about makes me dry heave.
“You’re sure nice to look at. I could make a pretty penny off of that body. Too bad I have to kill you now.”
“Yes. What a shame,” I reply with a tone dripping in sarcasm. I try to keep my voice casual for the next part. My strategy? Keep him talking, and he won’t have time to kill me.“You might want to reconsider offing me. Wouldn’t you lose your leverage if you got rid of your bargaining chip?” I point to myself.
“I don’t negotiate. No matter what else happens, you’re meant to die and that’s a decision I’ve already set in stone.” He ogles my chest again like he can’t even give me the common courtesy of eye contact.
“Hmm. Dumb idea. Seems to me like you could get what you want a whole lot easier by using me to get them to agree to your demands. What are you, amateurs?”
“No one asked you!” he yells and his neck strains like he’s about to pop a vein.
“Maybe if you apologize we’ll kill you fast,” the guy lying on the ground groans. He tries to kick me from his spot on the floor, but I don’t have to move more than a few inches to sidestep him. I roll my eyes and rub the side of my head on the top of my shoulder. These two are fucking idiots.
“You want me to apologize? Fine. Sorry for having great tits and an opinion.”
