Page 36 of Remy

“You’ll what?” He cranes a brow. “You had the chance to kill me and you couldn’t do it.”

“That was before you turned me into a criminal.” My voice hitches, the pathetic weakness ricocheting around my throat. “Before you made me murder someone.”

“None of this would’ve happened if you weren’t here.”

“None of it? You mean that man wouldn’t be dead? And you wouldn’t have used my family business for illegal means?”

He sighs, long and weary.

Fuck him. Fuck all of this.

I need to get out of here. To somehow make my way to the hospital. But even if I could get away from my prison guard, I have no car. And then there’s the whole issue of the incinerating body.

The cremation won’t be finished for at least an hour. Then I’ll have to clean up and ensure the remaining bone fragments are placed in the cremulator. Will I also have to dispose of the cremains?

Oh, God. What if Dad’s health declines while all this is going on?

“Take my car.” Remy shoves a hand into his pocket and pulls out a key fob.

I blink at him, confused. “You’re letting me go?”

“I’m allowing you to drive to the hospital, and only the hospital.” He grabs my arm and places the fob in my palm. “If you divert from your path, you’re as good as dead. Carlo, too. Understood?”

Adrenaline floods my system for the millionth time. “I can’t leave when there’s a body in the retort. If?—”

“I’ll handle it.”

I shake my head.

He can’t. I shouldn’t. But my dad…

“I know what I’m doing. What’s important is that you fully grasp the weight of this situation.” He strengthens his hold on my arm. “If you find another phone or go to the cops—if you so much as breathe a whisper of distress to hospital staff?—”

“I won’t.” I attempt to pull my arm away, but he digs his fingers deeper.

“I don’t want to have to?—”

“I understand,” I snap.

I don’t need to hear how he’ll kill me. I’ve never been a slouch in the imagination department. I can picture my blood on his hands just as well as I can remember his palm scorching my inner thigh.

“Good.” He loosens his hold. “I’ll meet you at the hospital later.”

I turn rigid. “No. I don’t want you there.”

I don’t want Remy anywhere near my father, especially if this criminal is responsible for my only remaining parent being hospitalized.

“It’s not up for debate,” he states simply. “There’s still a lot to discuss. You will take my car. Drive to the hospital. Then wait for my arrival.”

Does he expect a yes, sir?

Or maybe a heil, Hitler.

I give neither, instead glancing away in indignation.

“Good.” He tugs on my arm, making me stumble closer, his face an inch from mine.

I shudder at the proximity, the hint of his heavenly cologne poisoning my lungs, the subtle warmth of his breath brushing my cheek.

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