"Finally."I drew the word out. "Someone with some common sense around here. I was starting to think neither of you guys had it. No offense or anything, but this whole kidnapping me and locking me in a room, then taking me somewhere and not telling me where we're going? It's not what I'd call nice. Would you? What would your mothers say? I bet they'd click their tongues and shake their fingers at you."
My mother would have clicked her tongue at me and told me to shut up. Silently, of course, with a long look before she turned away. She was good at conveying her disapproval without saying a thing. I should work on that myself.
"Do your mothers even know what you get up to?" I asked. "See, Silas, if you were a bodyguard, you could tell her that. I bet anything she'd be super proud of you." That would be a lot easier to swallow than her son being a hired thug.
"Imagine it." I raised my voice to a higher pitch. "'My son is the bodyguard of the biggest rockstar in the entire world. He keeps her safe. One time he even took a bullet for her. He's got a scar on his shoulder. You should see it, he impressesallthe women. They practically drop their panties at the sight of it. He's almost as famous as the person he guards.’"
If he'd ever taken a bullet in his shoulder, I was disappointed. They should have shot over a couple of inches, or maybe down, right where his heart was. Also, I couldn't imagine any woman dropping their panties for him, but if any of this changed his mind, so he'd help me later, it'd work to my advantage.
"My mother doesn't sound like that," Silas said.
"She doesn't sound proud?" I asked, deliberately misunderstanding him again. "Not yet she doesn't, but she could be. This could be the day you make a decision that changes your entire life. How about that? I had a teacher once who used to say, 'Make good choices.' Here's your chance to make a good choice. Why wouldn't you? Good choices are, you know, good."
"Quiet," Conrad snapped again. "If you don't shut up, I'm going to tape your mouth shut."
"We should have done that to start with," Silas grumbled. "Taped her mouth shut and put her in the trunk."
"No, thank you," I replied sweetly. "I had the hair on my lip waxed the other day. I don't need it done again yet."
I didn't know, but I guessed having duct tape removed from my mouth would hurt like a bitch. Hard pass.
Also, being locked in the trunk didn't sound like fun to me. I wasn't the biggest fan of enclosed spaces.
"Shut the fuck up then," Conrad said, which sounded pretty final to me.
I pressed my lips together and conceded it might be a good idea to be quiet for a while. I didn't want to provoke them into doing something we'd all end up regretting, like them killing me and hoping my father wouldn't mind. Chances were, he wouldn't mind.
I'dmind.
The fact that they’d end up dead too wasn't much consolation.
If Woody added them to the tally, I was here for it.
Where was Woody anyway? And Forrest and Leif? Were they still in Saltgrave or had they returned to New York? For all I knew, they were enjoying themselves on the beach, doing shots of tequila and meeting new women. Beautiful ones with more confidence and longer legs than me, laughing and flirting and fuck knew what else.
Did I deserve the stab of jealousy that shot through me? It burned its way through my body like wildfire. Made me want to grab a knife and start carving into people's skin.
I shouldn't, but I hated the idea of another woman touching them, kissing them, fucking them. Even doing shots with them.
I was going to have to get past it somehow. All of it. They'd move on with their lives. I had to do the same. Try to forget them. Clinging to memories of them wouldn't help anyone.
I had to take things one day at a time. That was all I could do. That and try not to get myself killed. Or worse.
The thought of what Silas would have done to me if Conrad hadn't stepped in when he did, made me shiver. I could have the taste of his cum on my tongue.
Right now, I wanted to spit the idea out, rinse my mouth with an entire bottle of mouthwash. If he'd actually done it, I'd never get rid of the taste. It would be in my memory forever. No amount of strong coffee would wash it away.
As if I'd conjured up the magic bean juice, we drove past a cafe. Two men sat just inside the window, deep in conversation, their heads bent together, faces turned away. One looked a lot like Woody. The other bore a striking resemblance to Boner.
Great, now I was seeing things.
That was understandable, I supposed. I'd see men who looked like the three guys I loved everywhere until their faces became a blur and I forgot how their voices sounded. How their hands and tongues felt on my body. How their cocks felt slidinginto my pussy. Fucking me, filling me, coming inside me. The sounds they made when they came.
I looked away from the window. I needed to stop looking. Stop thinking about them. I was torturing myself.
Forget them, I thought.Think about what matters now. Surviving. Trying to find a way out.
If there was a way I could escape without my father going after them. And if there wasn't? Then I'd live my life with my eyes closed as tight as I could, like I'd done for years with Wolfgang. Make myself small and hope to avoid drawing attention to myself. Take the moments of peace where I could find them.
