He growls, low and almost amused. “The term fits you.”
“Flattering,” I shoot back. “What shall I call you? It’s only fair we exchange terms of endearment.”
“Terms of endearment?”
“Yes, you know the ones that’re special to just us but will make others want to cringe.”
I swear I see a smirk forming on the side of his face. For a moment, I forget I’m his captive and he’s my captor. I almost forget all about my escape plan. That is, until my phone starts to vibrate against my thigh. My heart leaps. Yes. A lifeline! I start wiggling my hand faster, the rope giving all the way that I’m able to pull one hand free. A small burst of victory fills my chest. I quickly grab my phone, trying to get to the messages, hoping it’s Claire checking on me. I try to discreetly hide my phone and text, like I’m back in high school, hiding my phone from Mr. Ferguson in fifth-period Geometry.
I get as far as opening my home screen when a large hand grasps my wrist. I let out a startled yelp just as he snatches my phone out of my hand.
“Hey!” My entire world feels like it’s ripped from my hand.
He doesn’t respond, just tosses the phone into the console without looking back.
God damnit! Now what am I supposed to do?
My fingers curl into fists, nails biting into my palms, trying to anchor myself. I can feel the tears beginning to pool in my eyes. That was my only lifeline. I close my eyes, willing the tears not to fall. I am stronger than this.I willget through this.
10
Aiden
I can’t believe I cracked. Talking to her is like feeding a raccoon—once you give it a snack, it never goes away. I don’t even know why I called herprincess. It was the first thing that came to my mind after seeing her walk along the street earlier. Full of grace and confidence.
This is bad. This isreally bad. I can’t seem to shake this weird energy she has on me. This is not happening. I’m not letting this delusional dark romance-loving chatterbox get under my skin.
SHE. IS. ELI’S. GIRL. FRIEND.
I repeat the mantra in my head, hoping it keeps me from doing something wrong, like continuing to drive her to a secluded cabin so we can spend the weekend getting to know each other. That’s definitely what a sane person would do.
Rubbing my temple to alleviate this impending headache she has bestowed on me, I notice movement in my peripheral. Back when I served, I was always the one leading the mission. I had a sixth sense for things. I’m not exactly sure how I did it, but my peripheral sense was the best of the team. Trusting my gut, I turn around, and a mini heart attack hits me. She has a phone in her hand. A. PHONE. Where the fuck did she get the phone? Scared that she’ll call the police, I quickly snatch it from her hands.
“Hey!” she protests.
Like that will get your phone back, princess.
Not a chance.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. I can practically feel the headache setting in. And then—the cherry on top—a police cruiser merges in front of my car. My soul leaves my body.
Sensing my rising panic, she leans forward and lets out a low hum.
“You know,” she says, big doe eyes peeking up at me, “you could remove your mask. I mean, it would look less suspicious. Unless you want to be caught stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic looking like you’re about to rob a gas station.”
“How did you get out of your restraints?” I ignore her taunt to remove my masks.
“Oh, this?” She’s holding up the rope like it’s a tangled shoelace she can’t be bothered to deal with. There’s no fear in her eyes, no hint of panic.
The corner of my mouth twitches before I can stop it. She should be trembling, begging,something.But instead, she’s calm and collected. Either she’s completely out of her mind, or she’s got the kind of backbone most people spend their whole lives trying to fake. I know I didn’t tie the rope as tight as I should have, but I wasn’t trying to cut off her circulation. Still, this girl is impressive.
“This is nothing. You barely tightened the rope.”
“Oh really,” I say, amused at her bravado. “Have experience with getting out of rope restraints, princess?” My voice is low and a little more seductive than I intended. I catch her eyes in the rearview mirror; her glare doesn’t hide the flicker of heat in her eyes, and the pink on her cheeks says she felt that just as much as I did.
“So,” her voice is faint, a little awkward and hesitant, like she’s unsure of her next steps. Honestly, so am I. She’s untied and doesn’t have her phone, but that still doesn’t mean she won’t try to fight me to get out.
“Why are you kidnapping me? I mean, it’s not like I have any money. Or is it because of my beauty?”
