“Not anymore.”
Those two words knock the wind out of me, sending me stumbling back a step. “You’re…” I can’t breathe, and the room begins to spin again. “I hate…you. I don’t?—”
“Meirna.”
I don’t realize I’m falling until I’m caught between two large hands and lifted against a hard chest.
Bronte carries me somewhere in the suite, and I can feel my lungs trying with all their might to suck in oxygen.
It doesn’t work.
I love Bobby. I’m supposed to marry Bobby.
Bobby is involved in the mob. And I came to you on Christmas so you wouldn’t be alone.
“Meirna.”
His voice sounds miles away, and I want it to stay that way. I want to go back to New York. I need to figure out what’s going on.
Seconds later, my butt is gently planted on something hard, and a wide body is between my spread thighs.
“I came with all the evidence,” I hear him say in this hushed, low tone. “So you could see for yourself what I took you from.”
“I didn’t…” I attempt to lift my head, but the same dizziness I felt on the plane decides to come and swoop in again.
How could this have happened?
How could I have been so blind to so many things?
“Daydream, look at me.”
“I don’t want to,” I forcefully expel from my lips. “I need…Bobby.”
I feel his grip on my waist tighten a bit, but his tone doesn’t match when he says gently, “I won’t allow him to touch you, let alone talk his way—” He abruptly stops then,and it takes everything in me to keep my eyes from closing. “Fine. You wanna talk with him?”
I bob my head up and down, prompting Bronte to shuffle around a little bit before a phone is pressed to my ear and I hear ringing on the other side.
“Talk.”
Half a ring sounds in my ear when I hear, “Hello?”
Bobby.
“B-Bobby…”
“Meirna?” I bob my head again, tears swelling up in my eyes because I want him here so much with me. I want to go home. “Where are you? You’re not in Paris, and I’ve been searching everywhere for you.”
He’s searching for me.
He loves me.
This Bronte guy is lying his ass off.
“I’m in—” Fingers suddenly wrap around my throat, prompting my head to lift and allow them room.
A small amount of pressure is applied, enough to warn me that my whereabouts aren’t going to be given.
And I’m dealing with someone off his rocker so I comply until I can figure out another solution.
