“Holy shit. Yes, it’s Clare Jones. She came out for drinks with us on the weekend. She’s really sweet. I’m sure everything’s fine?—”
Clare Fucking Jones.Her real fucking name? I bet that isn’t it. “I’ll be the judge of that. I’m en route now, followin’ them across town.”
“Wait, I have Clare’s cell number. I’ll send it to you right now.”
That’s something, I guess. “Got it.”
“Let me know if everything’s alright, Haze, I’m really worried now.”
I don’t let her know I am too, that my heart is beating so fast that it may explode from my chest.
I also don’t let her know that if anything happens to Willow, I will make it my mission in life to track anyone involved in this and gut them like a fucking fish.
I hang up, unable to form words. Then I dial Clare Jones.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
Willow
I wake up groggy.Holy shit. Where am I?
I got into the car with Clare — we were talking for a bit, then she pulled a fucking gun on me.
The details after that are hazy… the back of my head stings like a motherfucker.
My hands and feet are bound. I can’t see anything, and the little light coming in from a high window tells me it’s still daytime. I try to move around — but there’s only a concrete floor, bars, and a wall behind me. I’m in a fucking cell? Okay, I’ve been in plenty of cells when arresting people, but that isn’t the point. At no time was I somebody’s prisoner.
Of course, I’m not armed, and I have no belongings. My phone, which was tucked into the front of my yoga pants, is gone.Fucking bitch!
What the hell is Clare doing? This can’t be happening…Think.Well, it’s a little hard to do that when the back of my head is pounding, I’m bound with rope, and I’ve no clue where I am or what Clare wants with me.
Suddenly, I hear movement and I slump back down, pretending to still be out cold.
There are two sets of footsteps, then I hear Clare’s voice. “I said not to hurt her, and she’s still out cold.”
“Why do you care? You’re the one who wanted her dead.”
“Wantedbeing the operative word. Let’s just say my interests have changed.”
A man laughs. “Uh, huh. Money talks, right?”
“Trust me, cutting her into pieces would’ve been my pleasure after what she did to Aaron. I guess I can always take her husband out. That would soften the blow, then the Directors can have her.”
Aaron? What in the actual fuck? The Directors? Who are they?
Someone unlocks the cell. “Maybe we should check if she really is still sleeping.” I get a boot to the stomach and it takes all my might not to scream.
“You really are a sick man,” Clare sighs.
“Me? What about you? You’re the one who’s been stalking this chick forever.”
“To be honest, it wasn’t even hard to get her to trust me,” Clare goes on. “Easy, actually. I got in with one of her best friends. Pathetic how people just trust any old body these days. She never saw it coming, none of them did. I’ll be sad to see the back end of New Orleans. Bolt loved it here.”
Okay, so she knew Bolt. Or she’s Bolt’s girlfriend or some shit.
“So you think they’ll let you go after this?” the man asks, sounding a little too jovial for my liking.
