His dark hair is styled neatly, hazel eyes tracking over every inch of my body, and I say a quiet thank you to myself for not bothering to change out of Colten’s clothes.
He’s dressed in all black, the same as the other man who hasn’t been able to snap his glare off me.
My ability to fly under the radar is going to be severely inhibited if this motherfucker won’t stop looking at me like I’ve personally offended him just by breathing.
One of the tactics Cruz and Colten taught me was to use my position as a woman to win my captors over. Cry. Plead. Flirt. Whatever it takes for them not to hurt me and to give me extra time to be found, or to find an opportunity to get myself out.
Somehow, I don’t think the grumpy bald man with menacing dark eyes is going to be susceptible to any of that.
I don’t reply, choosing to remain silent as I assess them. It’s going to take more than three words to figure out what my best play is.
“Quiet little thing, aren’t you?” Grumpy asks.
“Not normally,” the first man replies for me. “Normally she’s got a lot to say.”
“Why am I here?” I ask, keeping my voice small and weak. It’s better for them to perceive me that way for now. At least until I can get a better read on them. “And who are you?”
“Full of questions, I see.” The grumpy one rolls his eyes. “Just because you’re a spoiled brat at home doesn’t mean we’re going to fall at your feet to answer all your questions.”
I breathe through the need to snap back at him. It won’t win me any favors, and I want him to believe I’m sweet and innocent, incapable of fighting back.
“Jay,” my stalker reprimands. “She was only asking a question that anyone in her position would ask.”
Considering this guy has held a gun on me, he’s being too nice, and I can see right through it. He wants me to consider him the good one, the one I can lean on, the one I underestimate, and it would probably work on most girls.
Sadly for him, I grew up in a world that prepared me for situations just like this one, and the only person in this room that’s going to be underestimated is me.
“This is Jay, and I’m Grant,” he tells me. “And you’ll find out why you’re here shortly. We just have to wait for our plane to be ready, and then we can get out of the city.”
“Plane?” My mouth dries, and a renewed wave of panic crashes over me.
“Of course. Our work is far from finished.”
I open my mouth to ask more questions, but when Jay cuts me with a glare, I snap my mouth shut again.
He looks to his partner and nods his head toward the door.
“Don’t try anything funny. We’ve been nice so far, but don’t mistake that for weakness,” Jay says.
They step out of the room, and the door locks behind them, leaving me alone in a cold, concrete cell with the promise of being flown away from my home and the people I love.
What kind of reach do Colten’s trackers have? Will he be able to find me if they drag me to another state? Or, God forbid, another country?
The thought alone has tears pooling in the corners of my eyes.
You still have a chance to escape,I remind myself.
Everything is not lost until I’ve exhausted every option, and I need to cling to that thought if I have any chance of pulling off an escape.
The side effects of whatever they drugged me with are no joke, and I fall asleep in a cold sweat, my body desperately trying to rid itself of the toxins.
The nausea is what drags me back to the land of the living, and opening my eyes this time is no less bleak than it was the first.
Voices outside the door catch my attention. They could be a hallucination, but I pay attention to them regardless.
Pay attention to everything, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem at the time. It could be what makes the difference.
“The plane has been delayed again,” Jay, I think, says, his voice as gruff as it was when they came in earlier.
