Page 28 of Ballrooms & Blackmail

The back door opens.

Fear slices through my middle.

No, not fear.

Terror.

I fight him as he pushes me forward, reaching a hand into my purse, wrapping my fingers around my phone.

I pull it out?—

And it’s immediately yanked from my hand.

“Uh, uh, uh,” he tsks. “We’re not doing that tonight.”

“Just take my purse and go,” I say, knowing it’s not that simple—that of course it can’t be. But also, some small part of me is still hoping it might be.

“Sorry, baby girl,” he says, giving me one more hard push toward the car. “No can do.”

“Please—”

His fingers tighten on my arm hard enough to leave bruises and I stifle my cry of pain.

Because the look in his eyes tells me that he’s precisely the type of man who would enjoy that.

“Get in the car,” he orders, dropping his hand onto the back of my neck and shoving my head down. He does it at the same time as he pushes me forward, bending my body like it’s a fucking puppet and he’s my master.

And I have no choice but to obey, to clamber into the back seat.

“Good girl,” he croons, climbing in after me and shutting the door. “Go,” he orders the driver before reaching over me and buckling my seat belt. “Safety first,” he says lightly.

“I—”

But I don’t get a chance to finish that, don’t get a chance to even form the rest of my thought.

There’s a crackle, a flash of light.

Pain slicing through my body.

And…the world goes black.

Ten

Thorn

River doesn’t answer her phone the first time I call.

I leave a voicemail, send a text.

And wait, my instincts prickling, worry churning in my stomach.

Everything’s probably fine. She’s just busy with Briar.

But when she still doesn’t reply a half hour later, I hit her number again.

And get her voicemail a second time.

“Dammit,” I mutter.