“Do we need to remind you of the consequences if you try to escape?” one of the men asks in a gruff voice.
“No.” It’s what I’m supposed to say, even if I’m not sure I believe it.
My gaze flicks to the windows. One of them is even open, for fuck’s sake. I don’t doubt for a second that it’s intentional. Holloway isn’t even in the room, but he’s still found a way to taunt me.
Oliver is so close yet completely unreachable.
Escape would be so easy if not for the consequences.
And I’m sure Ludo has plans to make this a thousand times worse by adding Wren into the picture.
My stomach roils at the thought.
She’ll be fine.
Most likely, the team that’s being sent to capture her won’t leave until nightfall. Wren will figure out by then that something is wrong, and she’ll contact Finn. She may have gotten kidnapped under his watch once, but he won’t let it happen again.
As long as she has him, she’s safe. I have to believe that.
Ludo’s men leave the room, and I clench my jaw when they don’t even lock the door behind them.
They know I won’t try it.
My mind hasn’t completely caught up with our situation yet. I thought that by now, we’d be on our way home—or at least that we’d still be on Holloway’s good side. This is so far off from my expectations that it feels like I’m living in a dream.
It can’t be real, can it?
How did I not even consider that this could’ve been a trap?
We have to find a way out of here.
Leverage.Leverage means Holloway still needs something from us. I’m not sure what he’s planning on forcing us to do, but I’ll find a way to turn it against him. I have to.
For now, I’ll cooperate. We’ve been rendered hopeless, so I don’t have much of a choice, but I won’t let it stay like that for long.
Resting my forehead against the wall that separates me from Oliver, I close my eyes. I can’t talk to him—that’d only alert the guards and piss them off. It feels stupid, but I place my hands against the faded paint, hoping he can feel me.
I’ll find a way to get us home.
I promise.
Chapter twenty-five
Wren
I think I might haveactuallyworn down the carpet in the living room from pacing so much.
For the umpteenth time, I check the clock. It’s been almost two hours since the guys said they’d be back. Maybe that’s normal, but I’m not sure. I don’t really know much about the inner workings of being a hitman, but I assume sometimes jobs take longer than anticipated.
Or they’re dead.
Just the thought has my chest tightening. I need them to come home safe. We got away with last night, but what if Ludo got angry that the guys showed up without Aubrey? Or what if they missed some key detail, and Huxley’s men got the better of them?
I pull out my phone. A couple days ago, I gave it to Ell, and he did a bunch of stuff to it. Mainly, he connected it to the house’s security system so I get alerts when someone comes onto the property. I check my notifications before the little bit of hope I was harboring deflates.Nothing.
I texted Rhett an hour ago. He always keeps his phone on silent even when he’s not working a job, so I knew I wouldn’t be disturbing him if he was in the middle of something. But it’s been long enough that I’m beginning to worry.
After opening my contacts list, my thumb hovers over Finn’s name. Elliot told me to call him if they didn’t make it back, but what qualifies as not making it back? In the grand scheme of things, maybe two hours isn’t that big of a deal.