ause I believe that we’ll disappear after the party—he’ll kill us. Both of us. I’m more trouble than I’m worth, and Liam’s too dangerous. He has no reason to keep either one of us alive.
“I’ll play the part. I’ll be pleasant at the party. I’ll keep Liam under control.” I let my voice drop, falter a bit. “Just let Liam be my date, that way… that way we get one last day together.” I miss a beat before adding, “Before you let us go, I mean.”
He doesn’t immediately respond and I’m antsy. Do I add an imploring, “Please?” or is that too much?
Then Pietro says, “All right. On the condition that you convince him to tell me where the stolen shit is, I’ll let you do that.”
“I will,” I promise, not having to feign my eagerness. I could give a fuck less about stolen drugs, but if Liam does still have something Pietro wants, and he figures I can get the information for him, that gives me hope he’ll actually keep Liam alive.
“I’ll need to see Liam,” I tell him. “I want to know he’s okay before I… turn myself in,” I say, for lack of better word.
“You just heard him talking, didn’t you?”
“I’ll need to know he’s still okay,” I specify. “We’ll meet somewhere in the morning.”
“That’s not what we agreed on.”
“If I tell you where I am, you can retrieve me, willing or not. I need to know Liam stays alive. That’s the only reason I’m doing this, and if you hurt him, I’ll run for the hills.”
After a moment, he clips, “Fine. We’ll meet at Paul’s house. Early. Let’s call it 8am.”
I don’t know how I’m going to get there by 8am. I don’t know how I’ll get there at all. But he doesn’t know where I am, so he doesn’t know that.
“Fine.”
“And Annabelle? If you try anything stupid, I’ll kill another man you love, and this time? Right in front of you.”
Rage explodes in my veins until I’m shaking with it. I can’t speak. My mind is buzzing with blinding white fury.
I want him to die.
The call ends, but I’m rooted to the spot, overcome with loathing. And terror. Because I don’t know what I’m doing, and I could be making the biggest—and last—mistake of my life.
But I have to try to save Liam.
He saved me, and this is where it got him.
Pushing my anger away, I try to clear my head. This isn’t the time to be emotional. I need to think.
Going to the closet, I pull out the go-bag Liam showed me when we first got here. I dig through it until I come to the little square of paper with a phone number jotted down.
I swallow, staring at it.
I don’t know if this person will be able or willing to help me. I don’t even know if he’ll believe me.
But I don’t know what else to do.
I wonder what time it is wherever he is as I dial the number, but there’s no time to worry about it.
One ring. Two rings. Three rings.
My heart pounds. What if he doesn’t answer? Will he call back?
A fourth ring and my anxiety intensifies.
Then a husky male voice utters, “Hello?”
I’m partially relieved, but mostly nervous. “Hi. Is this Ryder?”