Chapter Twenty Five

Elijah stormed ahead of her as they hurried down the garden path.

Lucy's heart was in her mouth, all the fear that she felt when she had pulled up to this house was back, and she'd forgotten how nerve wracking it was to be close to death.

Joey's words rang through her ears as they made their way through the corridors, past the pool room, the drawing rooms.

Make sure it makes the headlines.

He didn't want to just dispose of her, he wanted to make an example of her.

Just like he did every year, killing the English girls to show his old rivals that he's in charge.

Her heart quickened as they came up to Joey's office.

'Act normal,' Elijah muttered, barely audible.

She kept her head down as she scurried past -

Click.

'Lucy.'

Her heart froze as Joey's office door popped open. But she knew what she had to do.

'Hey,' she forced a smile, 'I was hoping you'd be about.'

Elijah took a step back and turned away as Joey took a step towards her. He stared at her for a moment, his forehead burrowed into a concerned frown.

'I'm so sorry,' he whispered, touching her cheek with his tattooed hand.

She tried not to wince - or recoil at the touch of the man who wants her dead. 'No,' she managed, 'I'm sorry. It was very out of line, very out of order for me.'

'You need to go to the doctor -'

'- that's where I'm taking her now, sir,' Elijah interjected, bowing his head in respect.

'Excellent,' Joey said, drily. 'Take care of her, she's special.'

Lucy forced out another smile and tried her hardest not to cringe.

Yeah, special. Special enough that you want me dead.

Even when Elijah started the engine on the Range Rover, Lucy did not feel safe. She felt like someone was going to jump out of the boot and get her, so as Elijah drove down the windy drive, she clambered into the front seat, narrowly avoiding kicking him in the face.

'Can you go faster, please,' she begged, frantically twisting around to stare out the back window.

'I can't, it'll be too obvious,' he muttered, glancing in the rear view mirror, 'just stay calm, we're going to get you out of here.'

Lucy sat back in the plush leather passenger seat and tried to relax.

She trusted him.

And she knew she trusted Oliver.

'I'm such a fucking idiot,' she mumbled to herself.

'Yeah, you are. You should have got on that goddamn plane to Barcelona.'