Page 52

I sit back on one heel and immediately regret it when the parking lot tilts sideways. Heather catches my shoulder before I follow it. She crouches and turns my hand over. The scrape across my palm is already beginning to bleed.

Her expression hardens. “I spent almost a year choosing you. The least you can do is arrive in the condition I selected.”

“You drugged me.”

“And you threw yourself on the ground.”

“I fell.”

“Because you were being difficult.” She runs her thumb beside the scrape.

It stings enough to make me pull my hand away.

Heather frowns. “Hold still.”

“No.”

Her eyes lift to mine. “No,” she repeats.

“I wasn’t ambiguous.”

Heather smiles. “Say it as often as you like tonight, Oliver. Tomorrow, I’ll teach you what it costs.”

“My name is Nathaniel.”

Heather stands and takes both my hands. “Up.” She pulls before I can object again.

I get one foot underneath me. The second takes longer. By the time I’m standing, most of my weight is against her.

Heather wraps an arm firmly around my waist. “See how much easier this is when you do what I say?”

I don’t dignify that with an answer. The passenger seat is directly behind me now.

Heather turns me toward it.

I brace one hand against the roof again. “I’m not getting into your car.”

“You are.”

I try to straighten away from her. My knee gives instead.

Heather catches me with an irritated sound and shoves me backward into the passenger seat. “If you bruise that face before I get you home, I’ll punish you for every mark.”

My shoulder hits the headrest. One leg makes it inside. The other stays on the pavement. Heather picks it up and puts it in. She reaches across me for the seat belt. I catch her arm.

We’re close enough now that I can see the tiny smudge at the edge of her eyeliner. I wonder how many times I’ve looked directly at this woman without seeing her.

“Someone will know I’m missing.”

“I imagine so.” Heather pulls her arm free and fastens the seat belt across me.

My fingers don’t cooperate when I reach for the buckle.

She watches me try once. Twice. Then she takes my hand and places it in my lap. “Enough.”

I look at her.

Heather pushes my hair back. “Remember how much that accomplished the next time you consider fighting me.”