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Is he insulting me? What… “Fuck you,” I hiss. “I didn’t come here to be judged by someone like you. Actually, I didn’t want to come here at all. Oh, that’s right: your fucking goons kidnapped me.”
That makes him chuckle. “Well, well, you do have a fire in you, huh? Maybe that’s why Silus is in love with you.” He says it so matter-of-factly, so seriously, that I can tell he believes it, but hearing him say Silus is in love with me is the last thing I expect to come out of that mouth.
“What? Silus doesn’t love me.” The refusal is on the tip of my tongue instantly.
“He doesn’t? Is that why you’re living at his place, then?” The way he says it makes me think he doesn’t know the whole story—he doesn’t know me and my brother were supposed to sell Silus to him. Whoever his source is either doesn’t know the whole story or kept some details to himself.
I have a smart comment ready, but then Cormac says something that shuts me up: “And is that why I got word from my eyes and ears that Silus bought a ring today?”
“He what?” You’d think that getting kidnapped would be the craziest thing that happened to me today, but hearing Silus bought a ring might just top it. I mean… what the fuck? As the idea floats around in my head, all I can say is, “He’s crazy. That motherfucker is crazy.”
That’s clearly not the response Cormac anticipated, because the look he gives me after I say that is one of slight confusion.
“Look, I’m going to be straight with you,” I begin a long tale that will hopefully help me get out of this alive. “I’m not Silus’s girl. I mean, I guess I am in the sense that the crazy bastard kidnapped me and is keeping me against my will, but I can guarantee you he didn’t go out and buy me a ring. If he did, come on, that shit’s crazy, and frankly you might’ve done me a favor by pulling me out of there.”
If ever there’s a chance for me to channel Max’s used car salesman persona, it’s now. It is literally now or never to talk and get myself out of this hot mess with all my blood still inside my body.
“I don’t know anything about Silus. I just met the man, shit, less than a month ago? I can guarantee you if I would’ve known the shit I’d walk into by meeting Silus McLean, I would’ve avoided that bastard at all cost,” I go on. “I mean, I’m a normal girl just trying to survive in this city. I don’t put my nose where it doesn’t belong. I keep to myself. This is all one giant mistake—”
Cormac is slow to tilt his head, a handsome frown tugging at his lips. “See, I don’t think it’s a mistake. Silus was seen out and about with a girl who fit your description. Add the ring thing to it, and I think I have exactly the right person tied up in front of me. Sorry, lass, but you won’t talk your way out of this one.”
I watch as he stands, swinging his long leg around the chair before he saunters to my side. His rough hand grips my chin and forces me to look up at him, and the moment I do I see a half-grin on his face.
“Don’t worry. If all goes well, if you help me get Silus where I want him, I won’t harm a hair on your pretty little head.” He leaves me with that as he releases my chin and walks off. I hear a door behind me open and shut; if I have to guess, Cormac disappeared into a backroom or something.
Turns out my used car salesman persona isn’t anywhere as good as Max’s. I couldn’t talk my way out of a wet paper bag. I’m useless.
The world around me seems to spin, and no matter how I try to view the current shit show I’m stuck in, well, let’s just say it looks bad from every angle. I got kidnapped—again—and now I’m being used as bait to get Silus to come here so Cormac can kill him. Kill him or torture him and then kill him; in the end it’ll definitely finish with Silus’s death either way.
Let’s ignore the immediate threat to myself and focus on that for a bit: Silus might come here and die. The man might die in front of me. As much as I can claim it won’t matter to me, that I won’t so much as blink if I have to watch him bleed out in front of me, I can’t.
How could I watch Silus die? How could I watch his face go pale and his eyes glaze over? The mere idea makes me want to vomit, but what can I do to change it? I’m pretty much fucking helpless, and I hate it.
I hate it because I… I don’t want to see Silus die. That’s the last thing I want.
Damn it. I think I’m in love with the asshole.
That opens up a whole new book titled What’s Wrong With Me, Volume Two. Loving Silus is stupid as hell. I don’t know when it happened and I don’t know why these feelings are here in spite of every reason they shouldn’t exist.
I’m in love with Silus McLean. It figures. And it’s just my luck that when I realize it, when I come face-to-face with the truth of my stupid feelings, the man might die. Worst timing ever. If there was an award, I’d win it, and if Max was here, he’d have one thing to say: I told you so.
And then, of course, I’d have to listen to my brother drone on and on about how stupid I am and why I should rethink my feelings for Silus, as if I could simply turn them off. My brother is a know-it-all, so it was awfully silly of me to assume he was wrong about me being in love with Silus.
My heart aches in my chest. A part of me doesn’t want Silus to come, the stupid selfless part of me. That way he’d stay safe. But another part of me does want him to show, because then I’d get to look him in the eye and ask him if he really bought a ring.
You know, like a crazy person.
All the kidnapping aside, we’ve known each other for a month. What kind of crazy person buys a ring after a month?
Seriously, who?
Chapter Twenty-Two – Silus
When I saw the cameras go off, I foolishly assumed it was Thea doing something she shouldn’t. I thought we were past the point of her trying to run, so I could not help the scowl on my face when I checked the footage.
It wasn’t Thea. Or, to be more precise, it wasn’t only Thea.
Thea was there. Oh, yes, she was there—and she was being carried out while unconscious. Men in masks grabbed her and took her. Couldn’t see any of their faces, nor were they wearing anything to give away who they were. The men could literally be anyone in this city.
