My phone.
I had it the whole time? I thought I might actually break at that point. I could have used it while he was out cold. Before I could finish that thought, my phone blew up with alerts, missed calls, and messages. I twisted to look a Pierce. He was smiling at the screen, obviously pleased he had everyone worried about me.
He pushed a couple buttons then held it to his ear. I heard Hunter answer. His voice sounded muffled.
“Shut the fuck up,” Pierce said. “This is how it’s going to work. You have one hour to get me five-hundred thousand dollars. Once you have it, text this number and I’ll tell you where we’ll do the exchange. You come alone. Any sign of your brother or anyone else, I’ll blow Lucinda’s brains out. Understand?”
There was silence, then I heard Hunter’s deep response—no I didn’t hear it, I felt it. That deep, furious rumble reached me through the phone.
Pierce disconnected, but all I could think about was what he’d said to Hunter, the word exchange ringing through my mind. For the first time since I’d woken in this room, I felt a tiny shred of hope. “You’re going to let me go?”
He dropped his weight back down on me and chuckled. “No. You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll never let you go. When King brings the money, I’ll kill him and we can head to Mexico.”
No. Oh God. I opened my mouth to protest, but he pressed his lips against mine, tongue spiking out, forcing its way past my lips. I kept my mouth clamped shut and turned away.
He stilled, lifted his head. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy.”
He sounded confused, but he also sounded angry. The man was full-on insane. The knot in my stomach got bigger, so big it felt like it was restricting my lungs, making it impossible to breathe. “I-I am happy,” I forced out. “I’m just scared, I guess. That something will happen, and we’ll be separated again.”
“I won’t let that happen,” he said darkly.
His hand moved down, cupping my breast through my shirt. He squeezed hard and I whimpered.
“You want me, don’t you, Lulu?”
I couldn’t make myself say it. I couldn’t get the words past my throat.
His breathing got heavier, rougher. “Answer me,” he growled. “Fucking say it.”
“I—I . . .” My skin was crawling, and everything in me was screaming to fight, to push him off me. I tried to tell myself to lay there and take it, that I’d survived this before and I could do it again—that Hunter would be waiting on the other side, that Pierce wouldn’t get a chance to hurt him at the drop off point. But I didn’t know that for sure. How could I know that for sure?
I had no idea what I was going to do, until it happened. He grabbed my wrists and I knew he was going to shove them above my head again. No! My mind screamed. I reacted instantly, slamming my head forward blindly. My forehead connected with what I thought was his nose. He released me suddenly, jerking back, howling in pain. I rolled, landing on the floor hard. I couldn’t see anything, but I shot to my feet and half shuffled, half ran with my hands out in front of me, stumbling and tripping over whatever was on the floor. I collided with a wall after taking only a half a dozen steps and used my tied, numb hands to feel for a door or window.
A sound came from behind me. He was moving, cursing loudly. I tried to move faster, hands groping frantically for something, anything.
A light came on suddenly, washing the room in a muted glow. I spun around. Pierce stood in front of the door on the other side of the room. The only door I could see. He was holding one of those lanterns people used when they were camping. Blood dripped from his nose, over his lips and onto his grubby shirt. He did not look happy.
“Why are you running from me?”
“I wasn’t . . . I . . .”
“Why were you running from me, Lulu?” he yelled.
“I was scared, I-I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I . . . I just . . . I. . . .”
He stared at me, eyes black in the dim light, head tilted to the side. I could see the wound on the side of his face, the one I’d made when I shoved a pen through his cheek. It looked angry and infected. He shook his head. “You’re lying.”
My stomach dropped, goose bumps breaking out across my skin. “I’m not . . . I . . .”
“You fucking whore,” he rasped, then he put the lantern on the ground and came at me. I had nowhere to go. The room was small and the only way to the door was through him.
Pierce roared as I tried to scramble away, catching me easily. His arms went around my waist, lifting me off the floor and dumping me on the dirty mattress. “You want to play these games, I’ll play these fucking games.” He shoved my hands over my head and grabbed for the rope already dangling from the old tube-steel headboard.