I mean, with how little I sleep, it’s possible.
But this is the sign that it’s all real. I pace back and forth outside the cabin as my phone continues to vibrate in my hand.
What do they even want with Brad? It’s not like I bothered to ask before accepting the job.Accepting. That’s hilarious. Makes it sound like I had a choice.
I didn’t have one. Not if I wanted to live.
It was easy to compartmentalize before I met him. It was his life versus mine. With the research I did into him, I knew it wasn’t much of a life that he was leaving behind. Dude had no family he bothered with. No prospects. No social media presence. Just a seedy investment in the dark web that’d caused him to run into the wrong people.
Just as I had…albeit in a different sense.
But the Brad I had in my mind doesn’t measure up to the man inside the cabin. The one who flirts with me incessantly. Who could’ve escaped but decided to stay instead. Who makes me come instead of attacking me. Who cuddles me instead of killing me.
The one who went through unbelievable torment as a child. Who survived things no one should be made to go through.
Who still smiles, despite what he’s suffered.
That Brad…I’m not so sure that I can hand him over. I prepared myself to walk away from this, riddled with guilt. Kidnapping someone and knowing something bad would likely happen to them as a result…that was never going to rest easy on my conscience.
Now though, I don’t think it’s my conscience I need to worry about.
It’s my heart.
Don’t be stupid,I tell myself.You barely know him, andthis is business. You have to do this. You don’t have a choice. It’s Brad or you.
It was an easy decision a few days ago. No question at all, really.
Everything is different now.
The phone stops ringing. For a heartbeat, I think maybe it’ll all be okay, that they’ve given up. My foolish brain believes perhaps this won’t end badly after all.
But then it starts to ring again.
Unable to put it off any longer, I answer and bring the phone to my ear. “Yes?”
“Ansel.” The voice is chilling, sending goose bumps over my skin, just as it does each time I hear it. I want to know the man behind it, his name, his face. “What kind of game are you playing?”
My blood turns to ice. “What?”
“Precisely what I’d like to know,” he responds. “You were asked to kidnap Brad Miller. According to the texts you’ve sent, that’s what you’ve done.”
“It is. I have. He’s in the cabin, right where you told me to bring him.”
“That’s interesting. Very interesting.”
I still, frowning. What the fuck is happening? “It is?”
Through the window, I see Brad. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, still naked, studying me intently.
“It is. Because I’m sitting and watching Brad Miller right now.”
I cringe, thinking of all the ways Brad and I have entertained ourselves. “You have cameras in the cabin?”
“No. But I have eyes in my head, Ansel, and they can see that Brad Miller is sitting in a café on Fifth.”
I freeze. “No. That’s not possible.”
“That’s what I thought, but my eyes don’t lie, unlike you. So, why don’t you tell me what kind of game you’re playing?”
