Page 58 of Incompatible

They dig Bay’s phone out of his pocket and shove it in front of my face.

"Enter his password."

I shake my head violently, desperately refusing.

"Drop him off first, drop him there," Bay says, gesturing with his chin toward the street corner near a small elegant restaurant where a handful of people are standing around smoking e-cigs.

We happen to be driving through a fairly busy area, so for once Fate seems to be on our side. Neville slows down.

"Drop him off first. That’s the deal."

"Sorry, but how do you see that working? We put him outside, he enters the password and then what? What if he runs in front of all those people and all those cameras? Not happening."

"Alex won’t run. Alex understands," Bay says firmly. "Please, Alex, do it. You’ll get out, you’ll enter the password, you’ll set the phone on the ground and then walk away." He talks to me in this steady, stern tone.

I keep shaking my head, but Bay leans toward me. We’re close now because Matt is holding me right in front of him while Bay kneels at my feet.

There’s sweat running down Bay’s temple, his face tight with strain, and he rests his forehead against my knee.

"I’m begging you, Alex, please do it. This is the last chance we have. Do it. The money doesn’t matter. Don’t think about me. You have to run as fast as you can. Please. Please, Alex… my love!" Bay whispers in this breaking voice, but I keep shaking my head because none of this can be real, this can’t be happening,this is the collapse of everything we know, the end of our world, and something inside me is screaming that if they take him, I willnever seehim again.

"Please, Alex, if you ever loved me, do this for me now. Get out of the car, walk ten yards away, enter the password, put the phone on the ground and run. The money doesn’t fucking matter. You matter."

I thrash, twisting and choking on my own panic.

"I’m begging you, I’m begging you," Bay whispers, and Matt is still holding me tight, and something inside me finally breaks, splintering into pieces as I sob into Matt’s hand, my tears running over his skin, and at last, feeling that horrible weakness and that crushing sense of defeat, I nod.

Matt shoves the phone into my hand and they pull into the restaurant’s parking lot. It’s a very elegant place, one of the nicest around, and a small group of people are standing outside smoking.

They’re far enough away not to hear us but close enough that they’ll definitely notice if anything suspicious happens.

The Hansons bring the van to a full stop and shove me out.

My hands are shaking so hard I hit the ground with my knees and crawl ten yards away.

I enter the password and hesitate for a second. I know I have almost no time, but I quickly go into the app settings and tap the discreet ‘delay all transfers by two hours’ option the app offers.

Then I set the phone on the ground, turn away and start to walk, but Matt calls after me.

"Try calling the police and he’s never coming home. Never. And the next ones in line will be you, your family and his family. Wait patiently, and if you’re lucky you’ll get him back in one piece, just a little less fresh and with a somewhat sore throat."

Tears blur my vision, my necromancer makeup completely melting and dripping down onto my clothes as I sob, becausesomething monstrous has just happened, something no one can prepare for, something you only ever see in thriller movies, and my body is in deep shock.

The sense of unreality clings to me as if this is just a nightmare I’ll wake up from any second. The van door slams shut and the car drives off.

I stare at the license plate. The Hansons were clever enough to dismantle the cameras, but apparently they forgot this detail, so I memorize the numbers perfectly.

But what good is that if I can’t go to the police? What good is anything if I’m the miserable, helpless coward lying here doing nothing while he suffers?

I fall on my stomach and sob helplessly, wanting to scream, wanting to throw myself on the ground and pound my fists into the asphalt. I press my forehead to it, as despair tears through me. My beloved Bay, lost, about to be hurt in ways too cruel to imagine.

I sob and wail, and suddenly I hear footsteps on the concrete, moving toward me.

I don’t look up at first. I only see the polished toes of elegant shoes stopping in front of me.

Silence.

Only then do I slowly raise my head. My gaze travels up a tall, slim figure.