“Screw you, Carter. Let me go. I swear I won’t say anything,” I bargained, not expecting him to take the offer, but it was worth a shot.
“Liar,” he grinned.
It was true. I was lying through my teeth. Vague memories of the party drifted back to me, Carter laughing when I threatened that Brock would kill him. It froze my blood. He was up to something, and I was damn afraid it involved hurting the Elite in some fashion, Brock especially.
I couldn’t let that happen.
But I also couldn’t let Carter harm me.
What was I supposed to do? Were Grayson and Mads frantic? Were they looking for me?
Carter had managed to hijack our plan to formulate his own.That fucker.
I had to be smarter than him. It was the only way to swing this shit storm back in my favor. Or survive it.
Fumbling my knotted hands, I wiggled my hips to the side, attempting to reach my back pocket where my phone was stashed. The idiot hadn’t thought to check my pockets. Bunching up the ends of the cloak, I navigated my phone into my hands. My call should be to 911, but I pressed the speed dial for Grayson, hastily reducing the volume as low as it went, that way Grayson could hear what was happening inside the car, but hopefully Carter wouldn’t be able to pick up Grayson’s voice.
I shoved the phone under my leg, keeping the speaker part sticking out and the cloak hiding my movements. “Carter,” I said louder than before. “Where are you taking me?” I asked, scrambling to get any information that might help Grayson find me.
“Like I’d give you that information,” he sneered, eyes back on the road.
I glanced out the dark tinted windows, looking to see if any of the landscape was familiar, but it was hard to see, no streetlights to illuminate the path. I caught the shapes of trees passing by. “Why are you doing this?” I seemed to be asking the same questions in rotation, praying for something.
“Because I can.”
“That’s a bullshit reason. I know what you did to Kenna,” I said, looking for a reaction from him and boy did I get one.
His fingers tightened on the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. “I can only imagine what you’ve heard. Let’s set the record straight. She wanted it.”
Says every rapist ever.
“If anything she was using me, trying to get back at Brock for discarding her, just like he does with every girl. You’ll be no different,” he warned, so fucking sure he had it all figured out.
My inner voice told me not to listen, that everything out of his mouth was lies, but another voice, the insecure side, thought there might just be some truth to his words. Perhaps Kenna did have feelings for Brock and she hadn’t been pretending like Brock had.
But then I remembered all the shitty things Carter had done to me, and I was back on Kenna’s side. No way was Carter innocent in any of this.
He stopped the car, killing the engine. Scooting closer to the window, I pressed my nose to the glass. We were at some sort of empty parking lot. Keyword empty, and as I scanned the area, I noticed the nearest lit streetlight was faraway. All the ones in the Escalade’s vicinity were out, like someone had broken them.
Shit.
“Why did you take me to a parking lot?” I asked loud and clear, not that it was much to go on. Was he planning to kill me? This definitely had killer vibes.
“The others should be here soon,” he said.
“Others?” I prompted, sliding my hand around the door handle as inconspicuously as I could. It was locked; go figure.
“Enough talking. Or I’ll tape your mouth shut again.” He pulled out his phone and sent off a text.
I imagined he wanted to hear me scream, so he wasn’t too concerned about silencing me. A few minutes later, a truck rolled up beside Carter’s SUV, and two football players jumped out. Shawn Whitaker and Porter Beckman. Asshole one and asshole two. They were Carter’s sidekicks.
And now I was outnumbered and in deep shit.
“You actually brought Porter and Shawn to help you. Pathetic.” While his attention was focused on his friends’ arrival, I hit the little unlock button and tried the door. A string of f-bombs went off in my head. He must have engaged the childproof locks.
Right now, I cussed out whoever came up with such a feature. Sure, it was great for keeping in kids, but it really sucked for victims trying to escape their captors.
“They’re here in case something goes wrong. Now stay put,” he ordered, taking the keys and exiting out the door. A second later, the car beeped as he relocked the doors.