He nods once at Jaymin and strides around the SUV, coming to stand beside her.
“Get in the car, Ms. Russo,” he says, voice low and authoritative. It’s not a suggestion.
I swallow hard. “I think I’m good here, thanks.”
His expression doesn’t change. “That would be a mistake.”
I take a small step back, pulse racing. My brain screams at me to run, but every instinct tells me I won’t get far. Not with the way he’s watching me, poised to react.
“Mrs. Holt is being patient,” the driver says. “Butmypatience is running thin. I suggest you accept her invitation.”
I glance at Jaymin, whose smile has all but vanished. “I just want to talk,” she says, her tone brittle. “Ten minutes. Then you can be on your way.”
I weigh my options, chewing on my lip.
“You won’t like what happens if you try to run,” the driver says.
“Are you threatening me?” I ask. My eyes flick from him to Jaymin.
“She’s not,” the driver says. “But if that’s what you need in order to comply, then sure.” He shrugs. “I guess I am.”
Alright then. Glad we cleared that up.
Guess I don’t really have a lot of options here. I take a shaky breath and force myself to step forward. “Ten minutes,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
I slide into the backseat, the cool leather chilling my skin. Jaymin follows, settling in beside me, her eyes sharp and unwavering. The driver gets in, and with a quietclick, the doors lock.
My heart stutters as I grip my phone tight, praying this conversation is just that—a conversation.
“I shouldn’t be here,” I tell her. “My attorney wouldn’t want me talking to you.”
The SUV pulls away from the curb, and I try not to think about all those lovely little murder statistics about women who are taken to second locations. I should really cut back on the number of true crime episodes I watch.
“We’re just going to have a friendly little chat,” Jaymin tells me. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”
I disagree but keep my thoughts to myself. Despite saying she wants to talk, Jaymin sits quietly beside me.
My skin itches the longer we go without speaking, but I refuse to be the one to break the silence. She’s the one who wanted this little meet and greet. Not me.
Shifting in her seat, Jaymin crosses one elegant leg over the other before finally turning to face me. “I’d like for the two of us to get our stories straight. I think you’ll find it beneficial if we’re both on the same page.”
Déjà vu washes over me, and it’s like I’m there. Back in that room. Scared and confused as I take in my torn clothes and the bruises on my skin. Then Austin opens the door and says almost the exact same thing.Let’s get our stories straight.
No single sentence has ever triggered me more.
CHAPTER 73
CECILIA
Panic lodges in my throat, thick and unyielding. I am not doing this. I can’t. What was I thinking getting into this car? I should have run. God, I’m an idiot. Why didn’t I run?
To hell if her driver chases me. At least if I ran, I’d have a chance. I remember reading that the odds of surviving an abduction plummet once a victim is taken to a second location. Something like seventy-five percent of abductions end in murder if the victim is moved.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Why am I only just now remembering that statistic from that stupid true crime podcast Adriana made me listen to with her? I’ve just royally screwed myself over.
My stomach churns with a sudden, sickening realization. Oh god. What if this is their plan to get rid of me? What if “we need to talk” is code for “we need to make it easier to dispose of the body?”
