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Before I can try again, someone lifts me off the mattress. Someone strong. I’m in his arms, cradled against his chest. His heart pounds against my side while he runs from the room and down a dark hallway.
“Wait, we can’t go. Charly… she’s still in there…”
My voice is barely a whisper, all of my energy sapped from trying to escape.
The guy holding me doesn’t say a word. He just moves as fast as possible.
Footsteps pound along the floor behind us. Another guy runs next to us. Looks a lot like the guy carrying me. He runs backward, pointing his gun at whoever is behind us.
A few bullets explode into the air. I bury my face in the guy’s shirt like that will block out the mind-scrambling noise. The fabric of the t-shirt smells like some expensive cologne I can’t place. But I like it. It makes me happy. Relaxed. Comforted.
My head drops back onto his arm, my neck no longer able to hold it up. I gaze up at him. His jaw tenses and he casts a quick look over his shoulder before the guy with him kicks open the door to the building. Darkness falls over us. He carries me like I’m stuffed with feathers. Never once slowing down to shift me in his arms.
My temples throb like banging gongs. The pain shoots down the sides of my face.
Where are we going?
Why is he even here?
“We have to get Charly,” I mumble through a mouthful of imaginary cotton. “They’ll hurt her.”
We finally stop. A car alarm beeps.
“Motherfucker, this is a two-seater.” The guy holding me pulls open a door, then slides into the passenger seat with me still in his arms. Between his massive size and the tiny sports car cabin, I’m shocked I can even breathe since I’m insanely claustrophobic.
Then he drops his gaze to me and suddenly, the tight squeeze doesn’t even register anymore. His deep blue eyes are mesmerizing to the point where I can’t even hear the words coming out of his mouth.
The other guy in the driver’s seat presses the ignition button and snaps his fingers in front of my face. “You with us, sweetheart?”
I blink, shifting around in the guy’s lap. “Sorry, what?” My voice is thick with sleep and groggy, just like my brain.
The car lurches forward as he shifts, the sudden movement making my stomach threaten to revolt again all over the lap of the guy holding me tight.
“The guys who brought you and your friend here were gonna auction you off. There’s a boat waiting at the pier to take you all away.” Blue Eyes pauses, his eyebrows knitted together. “Do you remember anything about being taken from the arena?”
“They came out of nowhere.” I press my fingertips to my temples. “They grabbed my… my friend, threw her in the truck, put a gun to my head.” An icy hand clenches my heart.
“Don’t fight, Valentina.”
“That’s all I remember. And then I woke up in that room next to Charly. She’s still inside. Why did you take me and leave her?”
He and his lookalike friend exchange a quick look. “Because she didn’t make it.”
“Didn’t make what?” But even as I ask the question, I know the answer. I just can’t force my mind to process it.
“Whatever they drugged you guys with must’ve had a bad effect.” His lips pull together in a tight line. “She’s dead. I’m sorry.”
My hand flies up to my throat, a knot of tears lodged deep enough to choke me. “No, that can’t be right. She was talking to me—”
“It was a hallucination.” He smooths the hair away from my face. “She’s gone.”
“Gone.” I repeat the word. It doesn’t sound like it’s coming from my mouth, though. My lips twist as if they can’t stand the taste of it.
“You’re lying. She can’t be dead.” I sit up as straight as possible without slamming my head into the roof of the car. A surge of guilt zaps my heart. “If she is…”
No. She can’t be.
If it’s true… if she’s dead…
