Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 167204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 557(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 557(@300wpm)
Looking up at him like this is uncomfortably intimate, and that he’s willing to weaponize my vulnerability and taunt me with it is… alarming.
I’d never, ever do anything to cross this man. I have no doubt he would drag me—or anyone else in his path—straight to hell if they did.
“It doesn’t matter what happens between me and Killian. You don’t have to worry about me,” I promise.
“Good. I’m gonna hold you to that.”
He holds my gaze for another moment, then he moves off me and hops down off the table. I should feel relieved, but I tense more when I hear his expensive loafers hit the cool stone floor.
“You fellas thirsty?” he asks his friends. “I am. Let’s have a drink.”
“Should we… cut her loose first?” Shane asks.
“Nah. She enjoys the scenery. Let her look a little longer before she has to leave.”
Is he seriously going to leave me tied to this table?
I hope he’s fucking with me because this is uncomfortable in every way possible, but then I hear the sounds of their shoes all walking away from me, and I know the bastard is really going to leave me here.
I sigh, irritated, but I guess I should just be thankful I passed his interrogation.
And hope they drink fast.
Chapter Twenty-six
Brynn
I am utterly exhausted when we arrive back at the apartment.
Shane is sitting on the seat next to me, and I know we’re here because the vehicle has stopped, Shane unbuckles my seatbelt, then he tells me to move toward the edge of the seat so he can reach behind me.
He unties the blindfold, and I wince at the sudden brightness of the cabin.
The guys are still wearing their masks—or I guess I should say they’ve put them back on, because while I was blindfolded I heard them talking to each other clearly, not in the slightly muffled way their voices sound when they’re masked.
The one I figured out is Silvan opens the car door and climbs out first. Shane keeps a light hand on my arm, but he lets go and tells me to climb out on my own.
Finally, we all head inside. I’m not exactly sure how I’ll even get back in the apartment given Stacie hasn’t given me a new key, but when we get to the door, Silvan puts a big hand on the knob and gently turns it, and when it’s locked—and no one comes to the door, I suppose—he takes out a little toolkit and begins picking the lock.
I’m surprised he knows how to do that. I don’t know why. I guess my takeaway from what I’ve heard about Silvan is that he’s probably the wealthiest of all of them, so why would a guy like that need to know how to pick a lock?
I don’t know, but he does. The door swings open and Silvan gestures for me to go in, but the guys wait outside.
“Thanks,” I murmur softly, then I frown because what the hell am I thanking them for? Kidnapping me? Only drugging me and literally paralyzing me once instead of the multiple times they likely intended?
This is so fucked up, but I’m too tired to think about it.
I close the door and lock it, looking down the hall to my right before I pass through the living room to make sure Stacie’s bedroom door is still closed and she’s still sleeping.
She is.
I feel depressed when I get back to my bedroom and I can’t gaze lovingly at Toast. It feels reassuring just to know she’s there sometimes.
If I had my car, I would drive to his apartment right now while I know he’s sleeping and steal her right back.
Ironically, some of my things were also at the Rho Kappa house when it burned down, so even if we knew where my car was, I doubt the key works after being burned to a crisp.
My mom has the backup key, but I would have to talk to her in order to get it. Worse than that, I’d have to ask her for something, and honestly, I’d rather never have a car again. Boston is a pretty walkable city. I can get by on public transportation.
I curl up in a bed that no longer feels safe and wonder where I’ll sleep tomorrow.
But I guess that’s tomorrow’s problem.
___
My school day starts with a seminar for my humanities class. It’s supposed to run from 10 to noon, and since my physics class in a different building starts at noon, I always worry about having time to get there.
The hum seminar always lets out a few minutes early, though, giving me just enough time to hustle to the science building. Today, I’m even fortunate enough to be able to squeeze in a quick bathroom break on the way.
I barely get to my seat and class is starting.