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The engine roars to life, and I leave my dead, not-quite-boyfriend’s apartment with his killer.
CHAPTER5
King
Well,fuck me. This is not how I planned for tonight to go.
The woman in the seat next to me sounds like she’s on the verge of losing it, so I steer the vehicle one handed and keep the hand nearest her loose on my lap. That way I’m ready when she eventually decides to retaliate. Because I’m sure it’s coming.
We pass under a streetlamp before taking a sharp turn to circle behind Leland’s building, and the thin yellow bands of light shimmer across her tear-stained cheek.
I don’t hurt women. I certainly don’t kill women. But I need her to keep cooperating for the time being. And fear has always proven to be a swift and thorough motivator.
I do feel bad about kidnapping her, but if she hadn’t shown up on that fucker’s doorstep, she wouldn’t be in my car now. So, really, it’s mostly her fault.
My foot is depressing the brake to make the last turn back onto the road that runs in front of Leland’s building when I notice Savannah start to reach for her seat belt.
While one hand turns the wheel, I slide the other one across the center console and set my hand over the buckle. She’s keeping her eyes ahead, playing at the compliant hostage, so she doesn’t see the movement.
I expect her to yank away the second her fingers make contact with my skin, but she doesn’t seem to realize it’s me that she’s touching. Her fingers spread as she tries to feel for the buckle, and that’s when she freezes, with her hand gently holding mine.
It’s almost comical how her head slowly turns, and how her gaze slowly drops, before she jerks her hand away with a yelp.
Okay, so maybe I don’t laugh, but I do smile.
She shouldn’t be this cute, with terror in her eyes and tears on her cheeks, but she is. And I learned long ago not to fight my emotional reactions. Life is way more fun when you just let yourself feel and don’t bother with psychoanalyzing every moment to death.
“Please, let me go.” Her whispered plea is shaky, and she says it to her lap, where her hands are now clutched together.
Instead of replying, I stomp on the gas, and we accelerate past Leland’s shitty apartment building.
When another minute of silence goes by, she tries again.
“I w-won’t say anything.”
I can feel her looking at me, but rather than make eye contact, I remove my hand from where it was still covering her seatbelt to tap the screen on my dashboard to make a call. “I know.”
The loud ringing comes through the car speakers, and Savannah jumps in her seat.
I adjust the volume and it rings once more before the call is answered. “It’s past your bedtime, old man. Why’re you up?”
This jackass.
“I need cleaners sent––” I start, but my words are cut off by Savannah’s frantic shouts.
“Help! Help!” She leans forward in her seat, looking at the ceiling for the mic. “Can you hear me?! I’m being kidnapped! Help!”
There’s a beat of silence before Nero’s laughter fills the car.
Savannah jerks away from the noise, her back pressing against the seat.
“Damn, King. You finally call me with something interesting,” Nero continues to laugh. “Can’t wait to hear this story.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. This isn’t going to make my situation any better.
“You’re not gonna help me.” It’s a statement, and Savannah says it quietly, but Nero still hears it.
“Sorry, lady. If my man took you, it’s for your own good. Or maybe his own good.” I can picture the stupid grin that’s probably on his face.