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“It’s the only way. Once that baby is out of the picture, you’ll have options! Just like your father said!”
They’re insane. They’re both clinically insane. That’s the only explanation for all of this.
“Alright. You know what?” I put my hands up in mock surrender. “I came here to make peace. To negotiate so you two will stop while you’re ahead. But clearly, you need actual professional mental help. This is… I’m out.”
Thank God I got all that on the burner phone, though.
The one that’s in the car, recording everything.
“What we need, Daphne, is for you to be here with us. Supporting us. Restoring us.”
“Absolutely not.” I take a few steps closer to the door. I don’t know if Lev fell asleep or is on his phone with Pasha, but this is definitely an increasingly unsafe situation. “I am going to go now. You have a?—”
The door slams open behind me.
Oh, thank God. Lev’s finally joining this shit show.
But when I move to turn and greet him, I’m grabbed by my waist and yanked against a sweaty, smelly, much older man…
Who presses a gun to my forehead.
“Take a single step,” he snarls at the Hamishes, “and I’ll blow her fucking head off.”
I swallow hard. My mouth tastes like acid.
“Now, now, Scott.” Stewart suddenly sounds so calm and collected. The shift is jarring. “Let’s not be foolish.”
The disgraced senator chuckles in my ear and pulls the gun away. “You know what? You’re right. No sense blowing her pretty head off before I make her blow mine, if you know what I mean.”
Yup. I’m gonna puke all over the marble floor. I’ve always hated the pattern, anyway.
“But before I do…”
He levels the gun at Stewart’s face.
“You’re going to give me one good reason why I shouldn’t pull this trigger.”
52
DAPHNE
I did not think this trip would need a Bingo card for “Things That Might Go Wrong.”
My father confessing to aiding and abetting a murder? Check.
Getting informed that I’m now the family prostitute? Check.
Having my baby sold off to the worst ex-in-laws ever? Check.
Disgraced former senator threatening to rape and slaughter me? Check.
Add the Free Space and/or Conrad’s zombie crashing through a window and we’ve got ourselves a Bingo.
Since Lev is nowhere to be found, I’ve only got one option left if I’m going to get the hell out of here: mashing the absolute shit out of my bracelet’s panic button.
Except Brennan sees me doing it. He seems to know what it is, too, because he grabs the bracelet by the chain and rips it off my wrist in one painful yank.
The next thing I know, his free hand shoves inside my pockets and rummages around without any hesitation. He even takes the time to rub me lewdly through my own clothing while he does it, most especially when he checks my back pockets.
