Page 65

LIA

I pulled out my phone to get the code for the building—and then another for the elevator—until I got out on Isabelle’s floor, for the third and final one, which let me into her apartment again.

The bar stool was akimbo—there were still sheets we’d fucked in on the bed—and soon I’d get to be with Rhaim.

Every. Single. Night.

And for as long as I wanted to.

No hiding, no worrying about anyone taking photos.

I thought about buying some bleach from the drugstore down the street, to give myself a fast disguise, but then realized I might as well keep looking like my passport photo, until I was safe outside the country.

Later on tonight.

It was inconceivable that I’d beaten him here—there was no way that it’d taken him longer to pack, in fact he probably had a go-bag—but maybe he had something to finish up?

I texted him one word:

Hurry.

And he didn’t text me back.

Please.

I added, and then attempted to be flirty.

I’m tired of waiting

I confessed—with a completely non-seductive winking emoji.

Then there was a knock at the door—which would explain why he hadn’t bothered texting—because he was almost here.

I flew to open it—and found a man dressed in black with a ski mask on, waiting.

“No!” I shouted—but before I could say anything else, his arm was around my back, there was something foul smelling in my face, and then the whole world spun away.