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“You can tell me. Anything.”
“I know.” She looks at me, tears staining her face and her clothes… it breaks my heart. They’re dirty, torn.
And there are hand marks on her arms. A bruise on her mouth like someone hit her.
“Who…?” I stop. I can’t call anyone. They took my gun and my phone.
Those fucking thugs laughed at me, moving with violent purpose and glints in their eyes. They laughed at the empty gun they pulled out of my handbag.
But they didn’t go through everything. Not the makeup bag I threw in there. And they didn’t look in the zippered compartments.
They did take my wallet, so if I escaped, I wouldn’t be able to get far. There’s a door at the back of the room, but it’s locked and… shit. I force myself to breathe.
I know it was beyond stupid taking off, but I planned to sacrifice myself for Amelia.
And—and Lacey has the details.
Best of all, she has Malone’s number. I made sure to jot it down in a note before I left her apartment.
Amelia gives a little sob and I lower myself to my knees in front of her.
“I’m scared, Scarlett. You shouldn’t have come.”
“Amy,” I say as I hug my cousin, “Malone’s going to rescue us, I know it.”
She nods but doesn’t respond, and I wipe her tear-stained face. Something has her so spooked, so scared, and she’s not telling me what it is. It sets off a terrible beat of dull pain in me.
But I don’t have time to give in to panic, to pain, to fear. Fuck fear.
“Amy, there’s a Swiss army knife in my bag.” It pretty much lives in my bag; it’s such a permanent fixture in the side pocket that I never think about it.
Hardly ever, anyway.
“And a cake tester. My special scissors, too.” I scramble through the bag and press the knife and the cake tester into her hand.
She shakes her head. “I can’t.”
I pick up the tester and I give that back. “This one, at least, Amy.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.” I take the knife and palm it. “You can.”
“Scarlett, you don’t get it.”
But I don’t have time for her fear. I know Amelia. She’ll run if we get that opportunity. I know that. She’s strong and tenacious, and I can’t let myself even speculate why she’s so frightened and shattered. If they touched her…
“Get ready in case we need to run,” I say, squeezing her shoulder.
Then I get up and stalk over to the door, banging on it. “Hello? Hey! If you don’t open this fucking door, I’ll scream the place down.”
A bolt scrapes. The door opens a crack. “Scream all you want. You’re not getting out.
Then the door swings open and someone’s shoved in against me. The door slams shut.
Panic takes me over as I grab the man and stumble to the ground with him. “Dad!”
He’s unconscious. His hands are bound, and there’s tape over his mouth. With shaking fingers that are pure ice, I pull off the tape. And I try to free his hands, but they’re cuffed. With actual handcuffs.
