I want to scream that I’m not a trophy wife…yet that is what I am becoming.
“If you are so tired after working, quit. You do not need that job,” he continues.
I force a smile. We’ve had this argument before. I like my job and I like catching the bad guys. If I wanted to quit, I would’ve already.
“I’m not tired,” I lie. “You talk business with your friends and…” I don’t want to say I get bored, even though I do. Nor do I want to say that he forgets about me unless it’s to pat me on the thigh like a good pet for sitting so still and quiet. He is a doting boyfriend, and I feel smothered, which says more about me than him. “I never know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything.” He kisses my forehead. His lips are always cold, but today I want to pull away. I don’t trust him, that’s what is different.
When did I stop trusting him?
When did I stop loving him?
Because as I look into his brilliant green eyes, I know that I no longer do, and no amount of gifts will bring that back. Being swept up by the hot billionaire doesn’t feel as good as it should. Maybe I was never in love with him, but in love with the lifestyle.
“I’ve already got the black dress out for you.”
I force my smile to remain in place. “Thanks.”
Great, short of breaking a limb, I won’t be able to wriggle out of this. The one thing I have learned is that when Doug makes plans, he doesn’t like them being disrupted.
“Do I have time to shower?”
He checks his watch. “If you’re quick.”
I will be. I don’t need to wash my hair, so I’m in and out in only a few minutes. I slip on the slinky black dress, add some gold jewelry, and add a little make up. Yeah, I could go all out, but I’m not feeling it. I’ll attend dinner, but that is all.
Perhaps I can feign a headache after the appetizer and leave.
I pad out of the bedroom, heels in my hand. Doug gives me a slow once over, and his lips turn into an appreciative smile that I used to like. For a moment I think he wants to make us late. He opens his mouth—
“Police, open up,” a deep voice says, followed by a hard knock on the door.
Doug flinches but recovers.
I drop my heels and walk over to peer out the peephole. There’s only one officer, that I can see, which is odd. But his uniform looks correct. He is also hot, as in stripper hot. Did Gabby send a stripper to fake arrest Doug?
She knows how much I hate pranks.
I’m going to kill her.
“Don’t open it,” Doug says.
“Why not?” But I’m already opening the door.
“Fire escape now.” He jerks his head toward it and pulls out a gun.
“What? No!” I am not going on the run with him. Then another thought hits me hard enough to steal my breath. Doug believes it’s a real cop, and he’s worried.
What the hell has he done?
Doug grabs my arm and I yelp, but he hauls me toward the fire escape as if he doesn’t care what I want.
The cop opens the door and Doug puts the gun to my head.
CHAPTER2
THISTLE
