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“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
The voice that rings out behind us may as well be God coming down to rescue me. It certainly feels that way. Though I can’t see him, I canfeelhim, and a shiver of grief racks through me.
There’s no way we both make it out of this alive.
“Mason, no!” I screech, fighting against the man’s hold, but I can’t move. I’m only strangling myself.
“It’s okay, baby.” Mason’s voice is both a symbol of hope and a promise of death.
Melissa’s gaze snaps to somewhere in the room behind me and then for the first time since she kidnapped me, it falters.
“Marcus . . .” she whispers like she was given the biggest gift in the world.
Marcus? Marcus fucking Parker? You’ve got to be kidding me.
I jerk in the hold of my jailer, but he only tightens his grip. I need to see him. I need to see Mason. Make sure he’s okay.
“Don’t . . .” my escort grits under his breath, so quiet, I can barely hear him.
Strange . . .
“You can have him. I want Hannah.”
Melissa doesn’t look at me as she steps past me, there’s a click and suddenly she stops.
“One more step and I’ll blow his head off, right here.”
“My man can snap her neck before you ever get a shot off.”
“Maybe,” Mason replies cooly. “But I’ll make sure there’s nothing left for you to even scrape off the floor if you do.”
“My love,” Parker’s voice sounds strained. Choked, even. “It’s been so long.”
“It has,” Melissa chimes, sounding jaded. “I’ve missed you.”
God, give me a break.
I roll my eyes and the man holding my head chuckles under his breath. At least someone agrees with me.
“I know beautiful, but I’m here now. Just give her over.”
Melissa pauses, her lips pursing. I still know her well enough to know what she’s thinking. The love of her life or the family that ruined her?
“If you tryanything,” Melissa says after a long moment. “I’ll slice her throat and drown you in her blood.”
My heart hammers in my chest as the silence drags on.
“Release her.”
The man behind me loosens his grip and I fall forward, catching myself on my hands. The cuts on my palms scream out in pain, but it’s not enough to drown out the incessant need to get to Mason.
Carefully, I climb to my feet, teetering from low blood sugar, and slowly make my way toward the love of my life who looks at me with a burning adoration behind a mask of sinister indifference.
I pass Parker on the way, who eyes me reproachfully as I go. He looks like shit. His hair has thinned in his time in prison and his skin is pale and sunken. Almost gray.
A walking corpse.
Serves him right.
