Page 77 of Submitting to Them
As if in response, my phone buzzes with a text.I check the screen and see it’s from Kingston.Freaking hell, if he’s telling me he’s going to be late, I’m going to tiehimup and not let him go to work tomorrow.
But the message that pops up has my blood turning to ice in my veins.
Ella, your bodyguards are compromised.Meet me in the garage.I’ll be waiting.
My fingers are shaking as I text back,What?What happened?
His response is immediate.Don’t ask questions.No time.Meet me downstairs.Hurry.I’ll be in my car.
I don’t know if I should pack a bag, or what.I’m wearing a tank top and sweatpants.Should I put on jeans?But he said there’s no time.Where is he going to take me?Not to Ironwood, if they’ve been compromised.The police station?What on earth could’ve happened?Terrence and Cora seemed perfectly normal earlier today.
But he said there’s no time.I can’t question him.I grab a hoodie, my phone, and my purse.Then I take the elevator down to the parking garage.Panic chokes me as I descend.None of this makes sense.What could’ve happened to Ironwood?Ryder and Jaxon are good guys, and I’ve liked all of my bodyguards so far.
Kingston’s silver sports car is idling in front of the elevator with the passenger’s side closest to me.He must really be in a hurry if he isn’t out here opening the door for me—something he always insists on doing.
I yank open the car door and throw myself inside.
But it isn’t Kingston sitting in the driver’s seat.
It’s Joel.
He gives me a sarcastic smile.“Hello, little girl.”
Nineteen
Ella
I scramble to get out of the car.Joel’s hand shoots out.He grabs my arm so tight, I yelp in pain.
“Not so fast, little one,” he says, his voice still mocking.“We’re going on a trip.”
“The hell we are.”I try to yank my arm back despite the pain of his grip.It’s no use.“Let me out of this car, Joel.”
“Close the door and put on your seatbelt.”
“No fucking way.”
He holds up a gun.The barrel is pointed directly at my face.“Close the fucking door now, Ella, or I will shoot you in the fucking head.”
I close the door.
It’s hard to breathe.All I can do is take frightened, heavy gasps.“Okay, okay.Okay.”I can’t seem to stop saying it.My hands are shaking and the garage beyond the car windows seems darker than usual.
“Get a hold of yourself,” he says in disgust.He wrenches my purse from my grasp.After rummaging through it, he takes my phone and tucks it under his opposite leg.
Breathe in.Out.Slow.I imagine the guys next to me, their presence protective and easy, calming me.I fold my hands together, steadying them as much as possible, and try to focus on my breathing.
Without another glance in my direction, Joel punches the gas, and we’re speeding out of the parking garage.As soon as we reach the street, he rolls down his window and throws my phone out of the car.Through the side mirror, I watch it bounce on the asphalt.
This isn’t going to end well.
“Joel?”I say.
He grunts.
Keeping my voice as quiet and non-confrontational as possible, I ask, “What are you doing?”
“I’m getting the fuck out of jail, free,” he says, sparing me a brief glance.His blue eyes are nothing like his father’s.Kingston’s eyes are warm and kind; Joel’s are cruel and cold.“And I’m taking some insurance with me and getting revenge on my pops, all in one fell swoop.”
