Stop being dramatic.
Regardless, I opened the passenger door of his car and slipped in.
Twenty-Seven
Kali
The first thing I felt when I slid into Locke’s car was nostalgia. We were doing this again. I was inside his vehicle, soon to be trapped.
Feeling paranoid, I checked every hidden spot for sleeping pills. Nothing.
I sat still next, my body sagging into the leather seat with Locke’s unique scent in the air, and it smelled absolutely delicious. Which only served to annoy me because it just took me back there again, to him pressing his large body against mine. To our fucking. To my addiction for him.
I was glad for the tinted windows. I was able to really look around and see just how many people were out. My cheeks burned from humiliation. Word was going to spread fast with this one. Ryan and his wife were popular and heavily involved in Blackwater’s social scene. Most of the pictures hung in their home were of them finely dressed and getting plastered at some function or party.
Babysitting was going to swiftly be a thing of the past for me.
After Ryan hurried out to pass a thin package over to Locke, I saw his mouth running. He looked nervous, whatever anger he had toward me gone. Locke didn’t stick around to talk. Midway through Ryan’s speech, he simply turned and rounded the car. Ryan’s words died off the second Locke opened the driver’s side door and said, “Another time, Ron.”
Ron?
Fucker probably knew his name was Ryan, but Ryan didn’t correct him. His face went bright red as he nodded in response.
Locke slid into the car, saying nothing to me as he took off down the street, away from prying eyes and lingering figures. He threw the package behind him like it was trash, which just made me feel confused.
I instantly felt relieved to see the back of that house, but whatever relief I felt was short-lived when I reminded myself of what Locke had done.
My calm dissipated, and I couldn’t hold back. “You broke into my carer’s place,” I found myself saying heatedly. “Which I thought was pretty fucked-up on its own. To kidnap a kid, though? All to get me fired? What the fuck is wrong with you, Locke?”
Locke was unpredictable, and I knew I was poking the bear. I felt the weight of fear settle in my chest when the words left my mouth, but at this point, it didn’t feel like I had much else left to lose. He already made me look like a negligent babysitter.
I underestimated Locke’s calmness, though. If he was bothered by my words, he didn’t show it at all. He simply answered, “I didn’t take the boy.”
“One of your men then.”
“That didn’t happen, either.”
“Liar,” I viciously retorted, feeling my being spark with anger and embarrassment. “The door was closed when I went upstairs!”
“It was closed, but was it locked?”
Feeling myself panting now, I retorted, “Ryan said he made sure it was locked, too.”
“But did you?”
I blinked rapidly, glaring at him. “Stop trying to make me doubt myself. I know what I saw. I know that you did it.”
“You know that I did it,” he repeated.
“You did.”
I heard the smile in his voice. “Sure, lioness. Whatever you choose to believe.”
“I’m not choosing to believe this, Locke.”
“I had nothing to do with the boy,” he replied in that infuriatingly calm voice. “You were going to be fired, regardless. I had those wheels set in motion. It would have served no purpose for me to endanger his life—”
“No purpose?” I cut in, astonished by his word choice. “So, if it suited your narrative to endanger that boy, you would have done it?”