Page 163 of Beautiful Liar

I’m shoved into the van once again, and Gordon climbs in, his black eyes transmitting pure malice. The blackened windows stop me from seeing any signs, and after a few blocks, I stop trying to guess which direction we’re headed. For all I know, Clayton could be taking a roundabout route to the loft.

My head pounds, and pain claws me to my very soul. Every time my brain veers toward thoughts of Quinn, I pull myself back. That wound is nowhere near ready to be tended, and I’m content to leave it sore and throbbing for now.

I lose track of time and only focus when I notice the van has pulled over. There are distant sounds of traffic but nothing close. Up front, I hear Clayton talking, then what sounds like a brief scuffle.

Gordon stares at me, his gaze daring me to do something. I don’t have the strength to tell him I have very little fight left. I shift my gaze to the dirty floor as the back door opens.

We’re parked in an alley. And Clayton is holding the body of an unconscious woman in his arms.

My heart kicks, and the fight I thought was gone surges back.

“Who is this? What the hell are you doing?” My voice sounds bleak and feeble despite my best effort to project strength.

“This is Colleen.” He drops her next to Gordon. “She’s supposed to be at a blind date across town in forty-five minutes. Isn’t that nice?”

Fear freezes my heart. “Then what is she doing here? You can’t just kidnap her!”

“You really didn’t think I’d let you waltz into your fancy loft and risk you alerting the authorities, did you? Or did you think I’d come along and walk into a trap?”

“No. I swear I wasn’t—”

“Miss Colleen here can be your little incentive. You get me my money…all of it…and she makes it to her date in one piece. You don’t…” he peers down at the woman splayed on the van floor, “Well, I can always do with a mature redhead in my stable.”

The shock of what’s happening keeps me quiet as the van moves off again. Ten minutes later, a soft knock sounds against the front partition. The van stops and Gordon shoves the back door open. We’re a block from the loft.

Clayton shoves back the partition. “You have ten minutes, then Colleen’s fate is out of your hands.”

The moment I step out, the van moves off. I’m alone on the quiet Hell’s Kitchen street, but I’m far from free. A complete stranger’s life hangs in the balance right next to Petra’s.

Fear propels me forward, and I arrive in front of the security door of the loft. I enter the code and the door unlocks. I release my trapped breath. The thought that Quinn hasn’t had time to change the codes because of his self-induced shit storm brings me little comfort. My frozen feet march me through the doors and up the stairs into the bedroom of the disturbed stranger I thought I knew well enough to fall in love with.

Tears surge hot and acrid into my eyes. I let them fall. The only energy I have is reserved for another stranger’s life. I shove the money and my precious keepsakes into my battered backpack. Everything else I leave behind.

I walk with soiled socks and a shredded heart back to the where I was dropped off. Clayton turns up a couple of minutes later. He hops out and snatches the backpack from me. I watch with numb interest as he rips open the zipper and greedily flips through the crisp bills.

Inside the van, the redhead moans as she regains consciousness. Clay zips up the bag and jumps into the back of the van with me. We drive for a few blocks before we pull into another quiet street.

Gordon hops out with a groggy Colleen.

He freezes in mid-step when loud sirens rip through the air.

Clayton pounces and drags me against his body, and starts fumbling for his belt.

Even though everything inside me is numbed with pain, I know I can’t miss this chance. My sister still needs me. The authorities can have me, but not until I make sure Petra’s safety hasn’t been compromised. I bite down hard on the arm restraining my shoulder.

“Fucking bitch!”

The moment his grip loosens, I break free, fly out of the van, and run for my life. I only get two blocks before another siren whirls behind me.

“FBI. Stop!”

Heart as heavy as stone, I stop, thrusting my hands into the air.

Heart hammering, teeth clenched, I wait.

“Are you Elyse Gilbert?”

I tentatively turn my head. “Y…yes?”

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