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My pulse quickens, it's a struggle to pull in a full breath. “Dominic, please.”

“Shh.” He strokes through my hair, undoing each loop of my braid like he's enjoying the experience. No rushing, just a luxurious sensation of him playing expertly with the brunette strands. All the while there's a cloak around us. Doom is tickling at the corners of my mind.

This feels good. So damn good.

And it shouldn't.

I close my eyes, but it's worse, because in the darkness his presence becomes more powerful. I'm transported to a place that consists of his scent, his warmth, his dominating aura, and nothing else. “I swear,” I say, “I told you everything I know.”

He glides his hand through my hair, the last loop tugging free. “I don't believe you.” Blood returns to my scalp, as the once looped hair swings free. The sensation makes my cells tingle. I do this to myself before I shower. Being fully untied from top to bottom always makes me smile.

It's different when he does it to me. I'm exposed. Vulnerable. He sweeps my hair aside, leaving my neck bared. I wonder if he can see my goose bumps. “Last chance,” he says, his tone flat. “Tell me what you know.”

Theor elseis left unsaid.

“I don'tknowanything! Dominic, I—if you're going to hurt me, just do it.” His grip loosens. He's listening to me, I press on quickly. “Whatever you plan to do is pointless. You can't get blood from a stone.” As I talk, my confidence grows. “Even if Ididknow, I'd never tell you. Got it? So you can chop off my hair.” I'm sure that's what he's plotting—he took scissors from the cabinet. There was nothing else in there.

I think of Kara; my eyes throb. “Rip me apart until all that's left for you in this room is your own guilt,” I say. “There's no answers for you here.”

A heartbeat, then five, six passes. Dominic takes in a greedy breath. His hand vanishes from my hair. “You sound a little too eager about the idea of being torn to shreds.”

I turn in place so I can see him. Oddly, there's no scissors in his grip. Was he faking me out? “I'm not suicidal.”

“Then you must figure you've got a future to live for.”

“Of course I do. Eventually I'll get out of here and make it back to Dad and the rest of my family.”

His mild smirk reminds me of his mother's; the time she got me to talk to her when I was trying to stay quiet. “What if I told you we already have him?”

I stiffen, all the wind going out of me. “That's not possible.” More than that, it makes no sense. Why—if they had him, what was Dominic spending his time fucking with me for?

“Caught him just before he got on a plane. Why would he risk flying, of all things?”

Confusion delays my response. “I—I don't know.”

“Guess he was itching to burn the money he stole from us. Ready to take a vacation on a little island somewhere.”

My father stole their money?This deluge of info rattles me. “He didn't tell me anything about that,” I insist.

“It doesn't matter.” He checks his phone, reading something—his smile is sickening. He knows he's won. “Do you think my parents will care if I give my guys the okay to break his legs? Can't run, that's a bonus. We can't damage his hands, he definitely needs those to—”

“No!” I scream, launching myself at him. “Don't hurt him! Don't you dare!”

Dominic manages to wrap his arm around me without dropping his phone. In a clean motion, he pins me chest first against the door's full-length mirror. His beard scratches along my temple, his whisper lava-hot. “I'll tell them to back off, but only if you come clean. Right now. And tell me everything about the plan you two had.”

“Okay,” I sob, going limp in his grip. “I... I did know he was going to escape.” Salty tears well in my eyes as the information floods out of me. “I was supposed to go with him. He never said to where. I didn't even know how he'd get me out!”

“And the money?”

“He never said a word about taking any money! I had no clue about a plane or an island or any of that, either. It's the truth, Dominic. Please believe me. Please, don't hurt him!”

I'm a sniffling mess when I lift my head. Through blurry eyes I see Dominic's stare in the mirror. There's regret in his expression, guilt in the edges of his subtle frown.

He sees me looking, and all his emotion melts away. He backs up as he releases me. “You aren't lying, are you? You really don't know where he is.”

My breath catches. “Wait,” I say thickly. I rub the tears away with the jittery heels of my hands. “Are you saying youdon'thave him?”

“We're still searching. This was an attempt to get you to reveal his hiding spot.”