“Shit. Missed. Get the bag.” A new voice draws my attention, and I get a glimpse of Tommy O’Halloran moving in the back of the van.
A canvas bag is pulled over the top of my head, and cable ties are used to secure my wrists behind my back. Then I’m pulled by the shoulders farther into the van. The door slams closed.
We ride in silence, down the driveway to the gate. My kidnappers don’t mind when I move from lying on my stomach to sitting crisscross applesauce, as Kerrianne would call it, on the van floor.
It takes two minutes to get to the front gate from my parents’ house. The van slows, but I don’t hear the sound of the motorized gate being opened.
The driver’s side door opens, and James gets out.
They killed the gate guards.So they’re really not as stupid as I thought they were.
Growing up in the same house means I know the roads in intricate detail, so I follow the mental map as the van slows and takescorners. We turned left, meaning we’re moving away from Barrington and the mansion-filled neighborhoods toward the country rather than right into Chicago.
We’re ten minutes down the road, nearing the highway, and I can’t handle the silence anymore. “So what’s the plan?”
“Shut up,” James snaps.
But Tommy isn’t so tight-lipped. “Well, there’ll be a new regime, and you can either get with the program or get dead.”
“Regime change.” I shake my head a little more vigorously than usual to emphasize my mock confusion through the bag over my head as the van pulls onto the highway. I lean forward to counter the physics of the older vehicle’s poor acceleration, stopping myself from sliding around. “You want someone new in charge of tech? I don’t know if anyone is better qualified than me. Clearly not the three of you. The last time we chatted, you still thought the dog filter on the social media apps was funny. I mean, Kerrianne likes it too, but she’s seven.”
“God, you’re so fuckin’ full of yourself,” James growls from the driver’s seat. “We’re getting rid of you while Neil takes care of your Dad and Valor. Lucky for us, there’s an easy traitor to pin everything on.”
“Poor Antonella, saved Kerrianne just to be murdered by her own husband.” Charlie drops his voice, and it’s laced with actual empathy rather than sarcasm.
“What do you mean? I see you’re doing the whole evil villain laying out their plan, so let’s hear this bright idea you’ve got.” I sigh and try not to fidget and reach for my phone. But pressing a couple auxiliary buttons would throw more than a wrench in their plans.
“Well, we’re going to make it look, at least to the pack, like the D’Medicis were spying, breaking the truce.” Tommy explains, but the lack of information makes it seem like maybe he doesn’t really know how the framing will work.
My wolf rolls his eyes.Low-level grunts. We’re not getting enough information.
My phone vibrates, and I raise my hip, but it’s too late. The fabric of my pocket is too thin, and it rattles against the metal van floor.
“You didn’t take his phone?” James snarls.
“Hand it over,” Charlie tells me.
“Really? It’s not like I can move with my hands cable tied together.”
Total and complete lie. If I wanted out of these things, it’d be a breeze. Dislocate the thumb, and slide right out. Lord knows Valor and I have practiced enough times over the years. Even Kerrianne is pretty proficient at getting out of cable ties.
“Get his phone,” James orders from the front.
Tommy, from behind me, jostles me this way and that, shoving until he finds the pocket with my phone in it. He must extend it over my head as he says, “Here, take it.”
Maybe I can pit them against each other. “Why are you handing it to Charlie? You’re better with tech than he is, Tommy. Though I thought there was a chance I could live through this? If so, just give it back, and no one has to get hurt.”
The van is slowing, and I hear the tick of the blinker.
It’s been three minutes.My wolf calculates. We’re less than a dozen miles away from the house.
“You’re so full of yourself. Gotta be the smartest ass in the room, don’t you?” Charlie growls.
It doesn’t matter that they have my phone. None of them are smart enough to access any information on it anyway.
“Better the smartass than dumbasses like you.” I laugh at my own joke.
Immediate regret stings as Tommy smacks the backside of my head with an open palm. “You really don’t know when to shut your mouth, do you?”
