“Eight minutes.”
“Sorry?”
“You have less than eight minutes until Angel comes after you and you don’t want that.”
An innocent but totally fake smile spread across my face as I tilted my head playfully. “I don’t?”
“No, Mian. You don’t. You want your son safe, and you want him to free you both.”
“And having dinner will make that happen? What about the buyer?”
They both tensed. What was so special about that watch? If I had known it would cause me this much trouble, I would have demanded more money. “One step at a time.”
“Which would be?”
“Believing that we are sparing you and your son a night of suffering.”
My heart threatened to break through my chest while my arms uncrossed and weakly fell to my sides. “Why should I trust you?”
“I’m not asking for your trust. I’m asking for your obedience.”
“People don’t normallyaskfor obedience.”
“I’m not most people.”
“Yeah, only the psychotic ones steal a child from their mother’s arms.”
He snorted. Heactuallysnorted. “It’s not as if you made it hard.”
“Excuse me?”
“You were alone and unprotected with a baby in a bad neighborhood. It could have been someone with nothing to lose. They would have killed you and the kid right there on the sidewalk for the lint in your pockets.”
His words clenched my gut in a fist and twisted. What he said was true. I made a bad choice—a few of them—and now I would pay the consequences. While it is no excuse or invitation to kidnap my child, I was forced to admit where I’d gone wrong.
“So, you’re saying I’m a bad mother?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m saying you’re stupid.”
One moment there’s distance between us, and the next we’re standing toe to toe. My chin was up, and his head lowered until we were glaring at each other. I’m not winning, but I’m not losing either… until something passes between us and suddenly has me feeling that I’m in over my head. Before I can retreat, he’s gripping my arms and pulling me closer into his hot chest.
“You have something you want to say to me?” The closeness soaks me in his warmth and scent. Not to mention hismouth. His breath is sweet, and his lips are perfectly kissable. That couldn’t be. Evil men weren’t supposed to look and sound, and—Oh, God, he pulled me closer—feelso sexy.
I needed a distraction and quick. His body was screwing up the signals my brain was sending to the rest of my body.
“What’s your name?”
“What?” The bewildered look on his face said I was crazy. I was crazy, but crazy was all I had to protect me.
“I’m going to kill you the first chance I get. I prefer to know who I’m killing just in case hell asks questions at the gate.”
He smirked. I didn’t expect that. “Lucas.”
“Hi, Lucas. Did your mother or your father give you your name?”
His hands tightened around my arms. Oh, boy. Did talk of Mommy and Daddy piss him off? Z, who watched us with a bored expression, had a similar reaction when I questioned him about his mother.
“I wouldn’t know because I don’t know them.”
So, they were both orphaned… “Don’t know them or don’t remember them?”
“Does it matter?”
“I think it does to you.”
He studied me for a moment, and I wondered if he was actually considering it until I felt my body jerk. I looked down to see the button of my jeans undone. They were covering my lower body… and then they weren’t. I was staring at them lying twisted around my ankles when I felt the same being done to my shirt. The cool air touched my naked skin once my shirt was gone, and it woke me the fuck up. I bucked, but strong arms swiftly closed around me from behind.
“We have six minutes,” I heard Z say—nobreathe—against my neck. Jesus, when did he even move?
“Let me go!” His hand shot up and muffled the sound of my scream.
“You do not want him to come in here. We’re doing you a favor, Sprite.”
“Don’t call me that!” I spoke into his hand, which muffled my voice.
“Not now, Sprite. We’re trying to get you out of your clothes.”
“Stop. Please!” More muffling. It was Lucas and Z who tore my clothes from my body, but it was Aaron’s smile I saw the moment he knew he had won. I didn’t realize I was crying until my tears were being wiped away by a gentle finger.
“Shhh,” Lucas demanded.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” Z softly assured.
But I knew the warning behind it that went unspoken. They weren’t going to hurt me if I didn’t make them. Men like them don’t stay alive doing what they do without taking a few first.
“Stop,” I tried again to no avail. They had already taken so much, a part of me wanted to just hand them the rest.
But I wasn’t my father, and I wasn’t my mother. I wasn’t going to give up on my son and leave him behind to their mercy.