“Get out of my car, Caitlyn.”
Instead, she stuck a hand in the large purse she carried and pulled out a gun.
It felt like my heart stopped for a good few seconds before it raced. The sense of unreality made my head spin.
She rested the gun to my forehead and at the cold press of it, nausea crawled through me. This wasn’t happening.
This couldn’t be happening.
“It’s Ariella. And we’re going to take a nice little drive, right?”
At her sweet tone, I stared at her with incredulous horror. “Have you lost your damn mind?”
“I just want to talk.” She lowered the gun to her lap. “Now, you’re going to drive toward Little Tokyo.”
My gaze dropped to the gun. “Why?”
“Because I’ve been trying to reach out for two years, Ari. Trying to get my best friend back. I’ve been waiting for this moment. Now no one can stop us from being together. Like we’re supposed to be.”
This wasn’t a joke. My stomach somersaulted. Gazing into her eyes, I saw she truly believed that. “Caitlyn—”
“It’s Ariella!”
“Ariella …” My tone was soft, coaxing. “I don’t know what you think is happening here, but just let me go. You don’t want to get in trouble for this.”
She scowled. “For what? Talking to my best friend?”
Oh, hell. “For holding me at gunpoint.”
“This?” She waved it. “This is just to make you listen. I don’t want to shoot you.”
I nodded. “Good. Good. So let’s just take a second. We can talk without the gun.”
Hurt tightened Caitlyn’s features. “I don’t want to shoot you … but unless you come with me and let me have my say … I will blow your brains out.”
Thirty-Seven
ARIA
Caitlyn forced me to throw my phone out of the car on the Santa Monica Freeway before we continued driving to a storage facility on the edge of Little Tokyo, down by the LA River. We could see the city skyline to our left, mountains to our back, and there were not enough people around for me to feel safe. In any way.
Once we parked in the empty lot outside, Caitlyn forced me out of the car.
With the gun pressed to my back, Caitlyn swiped a card over a machine at the entrance to a large one-story building. Inside, it was cool from the AC. We were inside a long corridor of dark gray walls with garage-like doors all along it.
“Keep walking.” She nudged the gun into my back, and I forced my shaking legs to walk. I was glad for my sneakers because I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t have broken an ankle in heels. My legs trembled so badly.
Halfway down the corridor, Caitlyn commanded I stop and then she punched in a code on a keypad by one of the doors, and it rose along the ceiling. Shoving me inside, I gaped as she hit a light switch and a small storage room was revealed.
But there wasn’t just “stuff” stored in here.
Among piles of boxes and crates of household items and a rail of clothing was a single bed tucked into the far right corner with a pink comforter and decorative pillows on it. Beside the bed was a small table and lamp.
I had to get out of here.
I whirled on her, but it was as if she knew how I’d react because now her gun was pointed in my face. Her expression hardened.
“Sit on the bed. Now.”
