I lean forward, gripping the edge of my seat as I watch the road stretch endlessly before me. My shoulders tense. This isn’t right. I know exactly where we’re supposed to be going, and it’s definitely not this way.
“This isn’t the right direction,” I yell over the music pounding from the speakers. I twist toward Damian, but he doesn’t look at me.
“We have to make a stop first,” he says, like that explains everything.
A stop? Where? Why? My pulse picks up, a jittery, uneasy feeling settling in my chest. “That wasn’t part of the plan,” I snap. “We’re supposed to be going the other way.”
Damian finally meets my gaze, his eyes dark and steady. “Plans change.”
I shake my head. No. No, this isn’t happening. “Turn around,” I demand, my fingers curling into fists. “Whatever this is, I’m not going along with it.”
Cody doesn’t even glance at me from the driver’s seat. The music blasts on, drowning out my racing thoughts, making it impossible to think.
I try again, louder this time. “Turn. Around.”
Damian exhales, slow and measured, like I’m being difficult on purpose. “We’re making a stop,” he says again, voice even but firm.
My breath catches, a tight coil of anxiety winding in my gut. I don’t know where we’re going. I don’t know why. And I don’t like not being in control.
My breath is coming too fast, my chest too tight, my body locked in that sharp, vibrating state between panic and adrenaline.
I don’t think. I just move.
My fingers fumble at my seatbelt, shoving the latch free with a sharp click. The second it’s loose, I grab the handle of the door, ready to throw it open and take my chances. I have no idea exactly where we are or how much this will hurt, but right now, anything is better than being trapped in this car with them going God knows where.
Before I can yank the door open, Damian’s hand clamps down over my wrist, firm and unyielding. “Don’t be stupid.”
I glare at him, twisting my arm in his grip, but he doesn’t let go. His fingers tighten just enough to let me know he’s not messing around.
“Let go of me.”
“Yeah, not happening.” His voice is calm, annoyingly steady, like I’m some irrational child throwing a tantrum.
“I’m not just going to sit here while you drive me to some mystery location like a fucking psychopath.” I yank at my arm again. He doesn’t budge.
He exhales through his nose, like he’s barely tolerating me. “It’s a stop. That’s it.”
“You keep saying that like it means something to me.” I throw him a glare. “Where? Why? Are we picking up your lost morals along the way?”
Damian’s lips twitch, just a fraction, but I catch it. “Cute.”
“I wasn’t trying to be cute, asshole. I was trying to get out of the damn car.”
“And do what? Roll onto the pavement at seventy miles an hour? Brilliant plan.” He finally lets go of my wrist, but only to shove a hand through his dark hair, like I’m testing the last of his patience. “Jesus, Marlowe, can you just stop fighting everything for five damn seconds?”
“Not when I’m being kidnapped.”
Cody chuckles from the driver’s seat. “It’s not kidnapping if you got in the car willingly.”
I whip my head toward him. “You’re new here. There was a gun to my face. None of this iswillingly.”
Damian sighs like he’s exhausted. “Marlowe.”
“No,” I bite out, twisting in my seat to glare at him. “Don’t ‘Marlowe’ me like I’m being unreasonable. My sister’s still with Joel! What if—” My voice catches, panic clawing up my throat. “What if something happens to her?”
He doesn’t even flinch. Just tilts his head slightly, a smirk curling at the edge of his mouth. “Oh, I’m positive she’s being treated like a princess right now.” His tone makes a knot harden in the back of my throat.
I dig my nails into my palms. “I need to get to my father’s place. That was the whole point of this. Instead, you’re dragging me off to God knows where, refusing to tell me why, andexpecting me to just sit here and behave like some good little hostage.”
