“Stop, okay? I get your point.”
“I don’t think you do.” Enough joking around. “You said you’re free? Enjoy it while it lasts, because you murdered two men in cold blood, and you did it on camera.” I watch as understanding smooths away her childish pout. “You may as well have stared into the camera and given it a little wave. All I have to do is take the footage to the authorities, and you can kiss any hope of ever beingfreegoodbye. I hope it was worth it.”
“You could’ve already done that…”
“I wanted to get a look first at what you managed to do for yourself. And maybe I wanted to let you sweat a little. I wanted you to look back on how much better you had it before you decided to commit double homicide.”
While she pieces this together, I continue, “The authorities don’t know yet, and they don’t have to. If you come back with me now.”
She gapes in disbelief. “Right. Because I was born yesterday.”
Dammit. I like this side of her. Scornful, defiant, honest. “Those are my terms. Come back with me now, and the authorities don’t have to know what went down. Your sister will still be safe. Refuse, and I’ll have the cops here in less than an hour.”
“You’re not just going to let this go.”
“No, I’m not. But maybe I’m a little impressed at what you managed to do.”
She rolls her eyes, staring at the wall over the bed.
“Really,” I admit. “You were resourceful. You took them both by surprise. You’re capable of more than I thought you were.”
She listens but doesn’t say a word. Still clinging to the last shreds of hope.
“Your choice,” I conclude with a shrug. “Are you coming with me, or am I making a phone call?”
“I’m not going back to that cell.” Even now, she acts like she has a say in any of this.
“That’s fine.”
She’s made her decision before she ever nods. I see it in the way her shoulders sink, and the tension etched across her forehead smooths itself out. “All right. I’ll go back with you.” She manages to make it sound like I should thank her.
The men are gone by the time we step outside with her few possessions in the plastic shopping bag. All that’s left is the blood they spilled on the blacktop. She eyes it as we get in the car. “I could’ve done much worse,” I remind her in a quiet voice before she’s had a chance to say a word. Because she needs to remember. At the moment, she is benefiting from my mercy.
My mercy has a limit. And she had better hope she never pushes hard enough to find where that limit ends.
23
AURORA
This is bizarre.
He’s going to punish me, right? He has to, doesn’t he?
I knew when I got in the car with him yesterday that he wasn’t going to let me off so easily. I knew I was taking a big risk trusting him. Not that I actually trust him. He’s really my only choice right now.
It didn’t take all that long before I understood how extremely screwed I was. I saw those girls he talked about, too, going in and out of their rooms with a different guy all the time. It was pretty damn dark and sad, and it made me wonder how they ended up doing what they do to survive. One of them was so young, probably not much more than eighteen. I could imagine her running away from home the way I did, telling herself she would be better off. Maybe feeling excited at first, powerful. Until reality sank in.
Then Liam showed up, answering a prayer I didn’t know I was saying until he appeared out of nowhere and rescued me. It’s so sick and twisted, but that is the truth. He rescued me back there. I was practically watching my life flash before my eyeswhen he pulled up in that rental car and beat the shit out of those guys for me. For himself, too—he enjoyed it; it was obvious. He looked about as close to happiness as he did the night he invaded my home and took me away. Like he was the kid he used to be all over again, only this time he was no kid. He was strong, fearless, vicious.
I really wish I could understand why my body reacted the way it did. There was fear, lots of it, enough to make me shake and wait for whatever was coming next. There was heat, too. I’m ashamed of myself when I think about it now. I guess I never really gave much thought to who I am as a person. What I believe in, what I stand for. I never had to. All my choices were made for me. I existed. I drifted along, hoping nobody would notice me. Being noticed was always dangerous.
But now, there’s plenty of time to think. To question. To wonder.
This morning, I’m wondering why he didn’t shackle me to the bed last night. Of all nights, wouldn’t that have made the most sense? But he let me lie there without anything more than his arm holding me in place. After days spent on the run, peering through a grimy window to the parking lot, looking for Liam or one of his team members or even the police, it was heaven. I can let myself relax, rest instead of grabbing a few minutes at a time of sleep filled with nightmares. Like the one where Bruno showed up at the motel, alive and well and looking for vengeance. The kind of dream that makes a person shove their fist in their mouth to keep from screaming too loud when they wake up.
I’m wondering about other things, too. Like the noise outside the bedroom. By the time I peek out, Liam is deep in discussion with a pair of men with tool belts slung around their waists. Others are walking around, talking on handheld radios, throwing around words like voltage and breaker.
They’re not the guys I’m worried about as I slowly walk to the kitchen and nobody tries to stop me, but that could be because Liam is distracted. All it takes is being stared down by two tall, muscular men dressed in black to know I need to watch my back. I killed two of their friends, and now there are going to be more of them around here, watching my every move.
