15
“Mila?” I said in a raspy voice after screamingfor help and banging on the door. In my right hand, I held a crowbar that I found on the grease-stained floor, waiting for one of the assholes to come back. “It’s me, Adina. Where are you? I need help.”
“Er, I’m just leaving the dining to head back to Morgana,” she replied. “What’s happened? Are you Okay?”
“No. I’ve been locked in the basement of the Lud, and I can’t get out,” I explained, trying to stay calm.
“Intentionally?” she gasped in surprise.
“Yes, they…” I was about to explain that I was trying to break into their frat house to retrieve my gun from Nicolae’s bedroom, but I realized that was a stupid idea. So, I went with, “It’s a long story, but the frat house assholes have locked me in the basement.”
“Have you called the campus police?” he asked, sounding as if she was reluctant to come help me, not that I expected her to. But she seemed distracted, and I could hear voices in the background, so she was probably with friends and didn’t want to leave.
“Um, I hadn’t thought of that,” I said, but I didn’t want to involve the police, because I’d have to invent an excuse as to why I was trespassing.
“I’ll call them for you, if you want, unless you want me to come down there, but there’s not much I can do, so it’s better to call the police,” she panted as if walking as she spoke.
Then a male’s voice asked, “Who’s that?” and I realized that I didn’t know Mila at all. She was with a man, who was probably just a friend, since her boyfriend was back home.
The conversation was cut short when I heard the click of the lock, and I breathed, “I have to go.”
“Wait. Adin-” she stressed as I swiped off and ran behind the wooden stairs, so I could watch them walking down and jump and surprise them with a solid smack over the head with the crowbar. At least, in my head, it was easy.
The door squealed open, and whoever it was flicked the light on, and my plan was immediately ruined. He then stepped slowly and confidently down each step, taking his time, until he stopped three steps down and called, “Little wabbit, where are you?”
It was the oldest Warwick, Nicolae, who tread those steps like a black mane lion and scanned the basement before looking down between the stairs. “There you are,” he mumbled witha smile on his face, then stepped down onto the ground floor and approached me as I raised the crowbar to swipe him, but he caught it easily in his hands, and I realized what a fool I was. Using a gun and a knife was more about technique, but a crowbar was all about raw strength. “Good try, rabbit,” he chuckled. “We could set you loose in the forest and hunt you down. How would you like that, wabbit?”
“I’ve called the police,” I lied, “they’ll be here any moment.”
“Have you now? Dumb move. Looks like we’ll have to bury you somewhere,” he insisted, looking me up and down. “Small bodies are easy to hide.”
My phone was still in my hand, and he brutally grabbed my wrist, squeezed it tight, and ripped my phone out of my hand. I kicked him in the shins, and he propelled backward, wearing a sly smile. “Don’t touch me,” I snarled.
He folded his arms across his chest, standing two feet from me as my back was pressed against the wall by the stairs, looking cocky as hell. “Explain,” he demanded.
“Explain why you were snooping around,” he clarified.
I swallowed to moisten my dry mouth, then coughed as all I could smell was gas and grease from the engine parts lying around. “I want my gun back. I know you have it.”
He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at me in suspicion. “What makes you think that I have your gun?”
“I heard your brother and Lev talking about when I was in and out of consciousness after you fuckwits kidnapped and drugged me,” I told him.
I flinched under his gaze as my heart beat rapidly against my ribcage. “What did you hear them say specifically?” he pressed.
“That the gun was hidden in your bedroom,” I told him. “So I came to retrieve it.”
There was a vague memory of them having a rowdy discussion about the gun going missing, but they didn’t seem too concerned about it, so I assumed they found it again.
He hesitated, watching me closely, amused. “And…what were you planning to do once you retrieved your gun?”
The intensity of his stare was familiar, reminding me of the man who watched me getting seduced by Ez while he stood behind a bookshelf. But I wasn’t one hundred percent sure if Nicolae Warwick was the spy because all I saw was his eyes. But the heat of his gaze was tearing me up as he waited for my answer.
I exhaled, “I think my stepmother is trying to kill me.” I gave him an honest answer, and he flinched in surprise.
“What makes you think that?” his tone had warmed, but still curious, tilting his handsome head to the side.
I wavered, deliberating whether I should tell him everything. I had been doing a lot of thinking since we returned from my hometown. My head was so stuffed with distorted thoughts, and it took a couple of days before I found clarity and could discern the difference between real and imagined.
