"What the fuck took you so long?"
The words come out before I can stop them, sharp and accusatory.
Santino glances at me quickly. "What?"
"I texted you hours ago." My voice is shaking now, trembling with more than just cold or shock. "I texted you when they were chasing me. Where were you?"
He doesn't answer right away. Just keeps driving, unable to look at me.
"I got your text,” he finally says.
"Then why didn't you come?"
Silence fills the car.
"Answer me!"
"I thought you were playing games!" He snaps, the words exploding out of him. "You've been playing games for weeks! Hot and cold! Push and pull! How was I supposed to know this time was actually different?"
The air leaves my lungs in a painful rush. "You... you got my text. And you didn't come."
"Not right away." His voice is tight with guilt.
"How long?" My hands are shaking so badly I have to clench them into fists. "How long did you wait before you even checked on me?"
"Three hours. Before I tried to contact you."
Three. Fucking. Hours.
I was tied to that chair, bleeding, terrified, completely alone. And he was doing nothing. Sitting somewhere safe, thinking I was manipulating him.
"I was kidnapped," I whisper. "I was dragged into a van and you—you just—"
"I didn't know!" His voice rises, defensive and raw. "You've been lying to me! About everything! How was I supposed to know the one time you actually needed me—"
"I told you I needed you!" I'm screaming now, all the fear and hurt pouring out. "I texted you! I said I was being followed! What part of that sounded like a game to you?"
"All of it! Because that's what you do!" He slams his hand on the steering wheel hard enough to make me flinch. "You manipulate! You play the victim! You create chaos! You—"
"I was a victim!" Tears are streaming down my face now, hot and unstoppable. "I was in danger and you left me there! I could have died!"
"But you didn't! You saved yourself! You clearly didn't need me at all!"
"Because I can’t depend on you!" The words tear out of my throat.
"You want to talk about not being able to depend on someone? Let's talk about the woman I just watched disarm a trained criminal. Take a hostage. Shoot someone in the kneecap without even blinking."
"That's not the same thing—"
"Isn't it?" He lets out a bitter laugh. "Because the woman I've been dating for weeks? She didn't know where the safety was on a gun. She waved it around my office like a child with a toy. She acted helpless and scared and stupid about everything."
I don't say anything, because what can I say?
"But tonight?" He continues relentlessly. "Tonight, I watched you move like a trained operative. You knew exactly what you were doing. Every move was calculated. Who the fuck are you, Liana?"
"Don't turn this around on me—"
"Answer the question!" He pulls the car over abruptly, stops in the middle of an empty street. Turns to face me fully. "Who are you? Because the woman I just saw back there? That's not the woman I've been with for the past month."
