Page 31 of The Pleasure of Panic

“Very popular. How much research did you do on me before today?”

“None,” I admit. Because it would be stupid to lie about that. I really don’t know anything about her.

“He had to have been planning this for a while. Couple weeks at least to come up with such an elaborate setup. Fuckin’ Chella. She must’ve given him a heads up a while back and they put this all together.” But then she laughs. “I do admit, it was a pretty good scam.”

“Which part?”

“The whole FBI thing. The raid or whatever. Like… he must have a lot of connections to pull something like this off, right? Do you know him well?”

“Who?” I ask.

She shakes her head, turns towards the window to hide her smile. “Fine. I get it. Gotta keep up the illusion. I mean, obviously Chella is paying for this, so I’d feel bad if she didn’t get her money’s worth.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit. This is a business! I have a pretty good idea who she’s talking about. I don’t know who this Chella person is, but the who in all this—the mastermind, if you will—must be her lawyer, Jordan Wells.

I make a mental note to look that asshole up as soon as we’re at the safe house. Could be the break I’ve been looking for. I mean, Issy just said it herself. He must have some kind of power to set all this up.

Except… it wasn’t a setup. The raid was real. The handcuffs were real. The interrogation, the safe house—all real. I wonder if Declan knows anything about this Wells guy? I make another mental note to ask him.

“Hello? Finn?”

“What?” I say, snapping back to the present.

“I said, do you mind if I just close my eyes and sleep a little? I want to be rested for what’s coming.”

What’s coming?

“No, go ahead,” I say. “We’ve still got a ways to go before we get there. I want you rested too.” And then I wink. One more time to cement her illusion. To keep her in the fantasy. I need this time to come up with a plan because Issy Grey is gonna be one sexually frustrated deviant when we get to the Silver Springs safe house.

And there’s no telling how she might react to the truth.

CHAPTER SEVEN - ISSY

“Issy.” I wake up to a man’s attractive hazel eyes staring down at me, and for a second I can’t figure out who he is, where I’m at, or what the fuck is going on. “We’re here.”

But the panic fades as his face comes into focus. Special Agent Finn Murphy. Jordan Wells. The game. My night.

I rub the sleep out of my eyes before I remember I’m wearing makeup and stop. “Where?” I mumble out, still waking up.

“Silver Springs, remember?”

I squint my eyes and stare out the window, but it’s total darkness. I can’t see shit. “Is this the club?” I ask.

“Uh… yup. Come on, we should get inside.”

He opens his door, gets out, and walks around the front of the car to open mine. Suddenly my heart is beating faster, my body is flushed with heat, and I’m nervous.

Finn offers me his hand. “Come on, it’s cold out here. Let’s get inside.”

I get out, more from habit than anything, and he closes the door behind me and waves me forward towards…

“A house?” I say. “Where are all the other cars?”

“What cars?”

“The cars!” I say. “You know, that all the people come in? Hasn’t it started yet?” I check my watch. It’s after midnight now.

“They’ll be here soon. You’re supposed to come in first.”