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He didn’t turn around to look at me, just let whoever was pushing me push me. Whatever he gave me this time around was a bit stronger, and I was struggling to keep my head up and the drool in my mouth. I was winning, but just.
“Uncle, where are we?”
From what I could see, the sky seemed closer. That was an odd thing to think. But it did. I closed my eyes at just how bright it all seemed. Parks always said to be two steps ahead. I was pretty sure I was three steps behind right now. At least being pushed around and barely able to move, I had some time to think.
I needed a checklist when I got out of this. One that would let me decide if something was a good idea or a bad idea. Good idea is to have a backup plan. Bad idea to get in the car and have your phone taken away by some thug. I would prove to Roman I wasn’t just some nitwit. Parks would treat me like an equal once I made a few more good choices and saved this company.
Why did it feel so good to feel my fingers moving? This was personal growth. I doubted he knew what kind of personal research this really was. I had no idea this is what some of my victims might feel like. I didn’t exactly like the feeling even one bit. It was like the dentist, but my whole damn body tingled. I’d have to ask him what kind of sedative he gave me, because it was obviously a good one.And bad people deserved nothing but the best from the Rossi’s.
“Vinny, I’m really bad at being, well, everything. Defiant, however? I might be good at that. I’m really good with a gun at close range. Roman said I wasn’t too bad with long range, but I really need more practice. So where are we going?”
He didn’t look back, but I could hold up my head now with less effort and didn’t exactly like the fact there was a car waiting for us. We were leaving the airport, and that made getting home a lot harder.
“My dear, you don’t have to try so hard to impress me. I really don’t care.”
Impress him? Was I really trying hard to make others like me? Interesting. Maybe it wasn’t my job to prove anything to anyone. Had Roman actually loved me for me? Parks seemed to be devoted for no other reason other than he said he liked me. He’d said that when I was five years old, and I’d clung to it ever since. Hard to remember that far back, when life had been riddled with being tossed around. We’d all been tossed around. I’d have to ask Roman how his childhood was. Take some interest in others when I got back.
“Vinny, dear? Where are we going? What am I going to do with that anyway? Send it to Roman and my cousin telepathically?”
I didn’t actually have a plan and I sort of wished that was an option. Something just felt right about knowing where I was and where I was going.
He threw his hands in the air.
“Fine, my dear. I have a house in the mountains. Seemed like a good place to get my bearings. The house is actually in your dead aunt’s name, but I suspect no one is checking that record at the moment. Oh, and before you panic, I’ve hired only the best of the best to guard us.”
We stopped and someone all dressed in black opened the door.
“Just because you dress them in black doesn’t make them the best of the best, Uncle.”
He was rubbing his neck, and that was about all I could tell.
“Did Roman ever tell you that you talk too much? I’d rather not sedate you again. It’s really not good for you, but I really would rather have some peace on the drive. I have calls to make.”
Rough hands gripped me under my armpits, and they not so gently pushed me into the car. I had enough control of my body, at least that I didn’t just fall over, but I wouldn’t be walking any time soon.
“Fine, how about a deal?”
He was seated at the other end of the limo with three burly looking men. I wanted to ask if I got matching sunglasses, but I think I’d pushed my uncle to his limit. For now. I was at least good at noticing when someone was on the verge of murdering me. Call it a sixth sense.
He looked up from his phone.
“A deal? Why, my dear, would I make a deal with you?”
I did the best innocent impression, complete with doe eyes and a sweet little smile. It was my look. The one from the picture where I’d been marketed as an eligible heiress for sale.
“Well, you see, Uncle. You play my little game, and then I shut up until we get to your little ol’ house.”
He crossed his leg over the other and put the phone aside.
“What game, my dear sweet little manipulative bitch?”
I shrugged.
“Twenty questions, but maybe I only want ten?”
He sighed.
“Fine. I see no harm, as you won’t be getting away from me, and I’d very much appreciate quiet.”
