Page 127 of The Last Promise You Made

His mouth tightened, and his fingers curled into his arms, but he smirked. “You will both go where I go. I learned my lesson with Natalia. From now on, I keep the people who belong to me close. There will be no escape. Be warned, you are giving up your freedom in order to get what you want.”

Was he delusional enough to believe anyone would accept these terms?

Maybe he was. Maybe he believed the temptation of having the world at your feet was enough.

It didn’t matter. I only needed him to think I was agreeing long enough for Ravyn’s virus to take effect.

I released a long exhale and said, “Fine, but don’t hate me for the code she chose.” I waited a beat and then shrugged, saying, “It’s Ravyn Eowyn Hatley.

His eyes narrowed, and he swore in Spanish under his breath but typed it into the screen. When the passcode was accepted, and the encryption started to clear, he smiled and did the worst thing he could possibly do—he forgot about me.

I backed away as he concentrated on the screen, fingers moving, doing exactly what Ravyn had thought he would by logging into a critical system to ensure the code worked. The one he chose was the FAA, where it would now be easy for him to bring down a plane. I sank onto one of the armchairs, and he must have caught the movement in the screen’s reflection, because he glanced back at me.

I purposefully dropped my shoulder so the strap of the dress slipped down and the neckline of the gown with it, revealing the tops of my breasts. I acted like I didn’t feel it, like I didn’t notice even as his eyes skimmed over me.

“Take it off,” he demanded.

“What?”

“You heard me. Take the gown off. Get on the bed. When I’m done running this little check to ensure my sister didn’t betray me once more, I’ll expect you to be ready for me.”

“How on earth can I keep you entertained if I acquiesce so easily to every command?”

Heat flared. “I punish those who don’t listen.”

“Promises. Promises.”

He took a step away from the laptop. A step toward me. I slid out of my sandals. Easier to run barefoot than in those low heels. My hand slid the hem of the dress up, baring my ankle and calf, but not quite far enough that he would see my gun strapped to my knee.

He eased toward me, undoing his belt buckle and sliding it off.

My stomach rolled. It was a deadly dance I’d engaged in, and for the second time tonight, I realized how much I didn’t like it. I didn’t want to engage in hand-to-hand combat I wasn’t adequately trained to win like Jason Bourne. I didn’t want to face a gun or a knife or a computer code that could ruin the world. I wanted the excitement of a puzzle and finding the answers, but I no longer wanted to have my life or the lives of people I loved on the line to do so.

I did my best to keep my emotions from showing, forcing my eyes to remain on his face and not the screen glowing behind him. How long would it take for the Trojan horse to be unleashed? How long did I have before I wound up dead?

When he reached me, his hand landed in my hair, jerking my head back with a brutalness that brought tears to my eyes, and I slid my hand farther up the dress until it collided with my holster.

“Just remember, you asked for this,” he purred, an ugly sound of a predator who’d captured his prey.

I closed my fingers around the grip of my gun and slid it slowly and quietly out. I reached for his arm as if to caress it, and then I shoved the barrel of my Glock into his stomach.

“Remember that you asked for it too,” I hissed back.

He glanced down, and a surprised huff of laughter escaped him. Not the reaction I was expecting. A playfulness took over his face. A cat batting at a mouse.

“This is exactly the reason you’ve lived as long as you have tonight.”

He yanked me to my feet by my hair, pivoting to the side just as my finger pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed through the room, but the bullet went wide, hitting the door behind us.

It was then that I heard it. Ryder’s desperate voice calling Addy’s name. Calling mine.

Any playfulness Laredo had exhibited disappeared into a cold, dark wall of hatred.

He twisted my wrist holding the gun in one quick movement. Bones cracked, sharp pain sliced through me, and I cried out. The gun hit the floor, but he didn’t even bother to pick it up. Instead, he dragged me with him to the door by my hair. When I tried to resist, he put pressure on my broken bone, and I gasped, air rushing out of my lungs as the pain spiraled through me.

“With such a low tolerance for pain, you never would have been able to please me.”

He twisted my broken wrist again. The agony would have knocked me to my knees if Laredo hadn’t hauled me to his chest as he yanked me into the hallway.

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