I’m not sure whether it’s because of the threat in his voice or the pets, plural. No, I’m sure. It’s definitely the latter.
Am I really just one of many? It would explain why Damien lets me wallow for days in loneliness.
“I can see why Damien has such a hard-on for you,” Logan continues, his fingers running through my hair. “But I guess I’m not as convinced as he is that you really are innocent.”
By now, he’s about an inch away from me, and I can feel his hot breath on my face. I flinch, my eyes darting around him, looking for a way to escape, but he’s got me cornered.
“You may not know this about me,” he says, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr, “but I’m Damien’s best friend. I’ve had his back since grade school. And I won’t let him lose it all over some girl.”
He spits out the words derisively, and I shiver.
“I know Vale is just salivating,” he adds pensively, his fingers still raking through my hair, sounding more like he’s speaking to himself than to me. “He can tell Damien is weak right now. Obsessing over his pet. It’s his dream come true. He’s about to swoop in and take control. But it’ll be over my dead body.”
He pauses for a beat, his voice bitter. Then the next second, he seems to wake up.
“Come on. Let’s have some fun.”
He grabs my arm and drags me out of the apartment, out of the building, and into a waiting car. I barely have the chance to take in the surroundings, to thrill at being outside—the first time in so long—before he pushes me roughly into the front seat. He sits behind the wheel, turning on the engine, and whips away from the curb before I’ve even had time to buckle my seatbelt.
I let out a strangled cry. He’s driving like a madman, barreling down the quiet streets, turning toward… Oakley.
He doesn’t stop till he’s at its periphery, on the swampy riverfront that’s abandoned apart from a few ramshackle cabins.
The water stinks that bad. It could’ve been prime real estate, but Oakley gave up on handling its waste a long time ago. The sewers stench that emanates from the river makes me gag.
Logan bangs open the car door, grabs me again, and slams it shut behind me. Then he drags me toward a large rowboat made of rotting wood.
Once we’ve boarded it, he pushes me down to my knees and throws an oar at me. “Start rowing.”
Shivering in the cold night air, I plunge the oar into the black, slimy water, and push it backward. I’ve never done this before. I have no idea what I’m doing, but under Logan’s cruel eye, I quickly figure out what movements will make the boat go forward, and I do them again and again, my arms aching, my breath coming in desperate spurts.
“Good enough,” says Logan at last, and I understand that I’m supposed to stop rowing. I lift the oar into the boat and wait, my heart beating wildly, wondering what he wants with me.
“Stand up,” he orders, and I do, pushing myself up on two unsteady feet.
He draws nearer, and I cringe again, my back dangerously close to the edge of the boat.
“Tell me one good reason I should believe you’re innocent,” he growls.
I blink up at him dumbly.
“I said,” he hisses, grasping my top with one hand as he lifts me up so that I’m really tilting over the boat, “tell me one good reason I should believe you. You stole the nanochip, didn’t you? Where did you put it?”
I swallow hard, my throat dry.A what? I stole what?
“I don’t… I don’t know…” I stammer.
He lets go of my shirt abruptly, and with a scream, I tumble into the freezing blackness of the Oakley River.
For a terrifying moment, I’m submerged in the slimy water, but I manage to struggle my way to the surface. I gulp in the clean air, and see that he’s turning away.
Is he really going to leave me here?
A moment later he turns toward me again, popping open a bottle of beer, and leans over, chuckling.
“Forgot to ask if you could swim. Guess you can’t.”
I’m still struggling in the water, splashing around like a dog to stay above the surface. He’s right. I have no idea how to swim. I never took a swimming lesson in my life.
