"Your mother?" he asks through gritted teeth.
Tears rush to my eyes. "Yes."
"What is it made of?" he asks.
"I was told that it's the concentrated form of some tropical fruit," I say. "And I've never felt this way before. I don't know what to do."
"It's a long drive home. Try to sleep it off," he says.
I look at him for a moment. And then I say exactly what's on my mind.
"I don't understand,” I say. "This is what you wanted me for, right?"
He's still way too close. I can smell the scent of his skin, and it's so exquisite that I want to put it in a bottle.
"When I have you, Grace, it'll be because you were begging for it," he says. "Not because your mother drugged you."
A shiver passes down my spine. It blooms to life in vivid color deep inside my core.
I close my eyes and lean against the headrest. I’ve never liked car rides. They make me feel claustrophobic.
A tear slides down my cheek.
"Tell me about your friend," he says.
I open my eyes.
"Sarah?" I ask. "We met earlier today."
"You're awfully loyal to someone you met a few hours ago," he says.
"If I had the power and the means, I would get them all out," I say. "I would help every one of them. People were nothing but cruel to them, and they don't deserve any of it."
"How long was she held in captivity?" he asks.
"Her whole life," I say, glancing at the road behind us. There are two other SUVs behind us, and Sarah is in one of them. "It's all she knows."
“And you?” he asks.
"What about me?"
"What was your childhood like?"
"Why does it matter?"
"I want to know."
I know what he's doing. He's trying to distract me from the effects of the drug. It's kind of sweet, actually.
"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" he asks.
That makes me smile.
"Two sisters," I say. "They're everything to me."
When I glance over at him, I find that his eyes are fixated on my bottom lip. He's looking at it like he's never seen anything more fascinating in his life.
But thinking about my sisters only reminds me of what my mother said.
