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The man behind me moves away so that he isn’t visible, and the guy holding the gun to my temple shifts so that only his arm and the gun against my head will be visible. I draw in a deep breath and look up at the phone Doyle is holding. He nods.
“Please, Dad,” I repeat as instructed. “Give them whatever they want. They’re going to kill me.”
Doyle nods again and lowers the phone. Then he turns to Lionel. “Keep her quiet.”
Not waiting for a reply, he simply spins on his heel and strides away to no doubt call my dad and blackmail him into paying my ransom.
“How do you expect to get away with this?” I snap, whipping my head to stare at Lionel. “I know that it’s you. I know that it’s him.” Motioning with my chin, I gesture at the man still holding a gun to my temple and his friend now standing next to him. “I know that it’s them. I know what all of you look like.”
Only silence answers me. Deafening, crackling silence.
Coldness spreads through my body as I stare at the three silent men.
“I know what you look like,” I repeat.
But it’s not a threat this time. It’s a realization. A terrible, terrible realization.
I know what they look like. Which means that they can’t let me walk out of here. Which means that as soon as they get the money from my father, they’re going to kill me.
Oh God.
My heart rate speeds up until it’s beating so fast that I’m sure it’s going to rip out of my chest. I swallow as panic threatens to drown out everything inside me. They’re going to kill me. The metal barrel pressed against my temple suddenly feels so cold that I swear ice is spreading through my veins. My body feels numb.
I glance down at my watch again.
Jace.
Jace is coming. I just need to stall for time.
Time.
I need time.
“Why?” I blurt out, desperate for anything that will keep the guy with the gun from pulling the trigger right now. My eyes are full of both panic and rage as I meet Lionel’s gaze. “Why?”
He shifts his weight uncomfortably. “You heard why. I owe him money.”
“Money? You have money! You attend Ivy River, for fuck’s sake!”
“Not that kind of money.” He shifts awkwardly again, and his gaze darts to Doyle’s guards for a second before returning to my face. “With the interest, the amount just… kept growing. And if I didn’t pay it off soon, he was going to put a price on my head.”
“You—”
“Not everyone has unlimited wealth like you do,” he suddenly snaps, cutting me off. Anger flickers in his eyes now.
I open my mouth to snarl back at him, but the guard pushes his gun a little harder against my temple. Forcing my rage back down, I draw in a deep breath and remind myself of what I’m doing. I’m stalling for time. So I have to keep him talking.
“How long?” I ask instead.
Lionel just glances away.
“Lionel,” I say, letting some of that fear back into my voice. “You owe me this much. How long have you been planning this?”
He clears his throat and drags his gaze back to me. “Since the day I met you at that party where you climbed in through the window and fell on top of me. When you told me who you were, I… I knew that you were the answer to all my problems.”
“So when we met at the coffeeshop…?”
“It wasn’t a coincidence.”
