Page 43 of Captive Audience

He gave me an impatient glare over the rim of his bifocals.

“Rook.R-O-O-K, in case you need help.”

I waited while he scrolled through my list of contacts instead of using the search panel. “Nope. Not here.”

“Try Ryan. Ryan O’Connell.”

Petty shook his head. “Anything else he might go by?”

Son of a bitch. I laughed because if I didn’t, I’d cry.

“Try—oh my God, I can’t believe I’m going to say this—husband.”

More scrolling. “There it is.” Petty smiled like his announcementmight make me happy rather than cause my stomach to burn with the acid of a hundred stress ulcers.

He tapped the Call button and put the phone on speaker.

Rook answered on the second ring. “Hello,Wife.”

“You” was all I could growl while my vision misted red.

“Yes,me. How can I help?”

Except I couldn’t even utter a response. I wasloathto ask this man for anything.

“Nothing to say?” Rook asked brightly. “Suit yourself.” Then the jerk of the century hung up.

“Trouble in paradise?” asked Petty.

My mouth wanted to sayGo fuck yourself, but with superhuman effort I said, “Call him back.”

He dialed again. “Might want to try being nice this time.”

I’d have to remember to find a talented witch once I got out and have Petty cursed with kidney stones.

“Thanks for the advice. Just out of curiosity, how many times have you been divorced?”

His expression turned deadpan.

“Thought so.”

Rook answered. “I’m all ears.”

“Get me out of here.”

“I’m sorry, are you asking me to come rescue you? Because you’re not being very polite.”

No one in the history of humanity had needed the level of restraint and composure I was being forced to summon.

Slow breath in. Slow breath out. “Please, can you come to the station and get me out of here?”

“Please, who?”

I bit my lip to hold in my wrath.

“You know what I want to hear,Wife.”

“This is ridiculous. Husbands and wives don’t call each other that!” I snapped as my temper got the better of me.