Page 33 of Picture Perfect

"Good fuck," comes a new voice, and I turn to see Gen striding toward us, her expression unreadable. She shoots Dre a look that holds an unspoken command, one that he seems to understand immediately.

Dre releases me, and I almost stumble, not expecting the sudden freedom. Gen hooks her arm through mine with an ease that suggests she's done it a hundred times before. She guides me toward the curb where Saint has pulled up in a car that looks like nightfall on wheels—sleek, black, and with an aura of danger.

"Get in," Saint says, his voice leaving no room for argument. It's less of a request and more of an order.

"Why am I—" I start, but Gen cuts me off with a gentle squeeze of my arm.

"Questions later, Addy," she whispers conspiratorially, as if we were co-conspirators rather than kidnapper and captive. She opens the back passenger door and nudges me inside.

"Fine," I huff, sliding onto the cool leather seat. My mind is a whirlwind of questions and the unnerving sensation of Dre's breath on my skin. I watch as Gen slides in beside me, Chess gets into the passenger seat, and Dre slides in on my other side. His hand immediately slides into my hair, twirling loose strands around his fingers.

"Seatbelts," Saint commands, and I hear the click of metal as we all comply. I stare out the window as the school recedes into the distance, wondering what strange game I've suddenly become a player in. Or maybe a pawn.

??????

The car hums beneath me, the vibration a strange comfort as Saint maneuvers through the streets with unsettling precision. I watch Gen—her poise is unsettling, her every move deliberate as if she's dancing to a rhythm only she can hear. She tucks a strand of her raven hair behind an ear nonchalantly, her other hand resting on her knee like we're on some casual drive instead of... whatever this is.

"Doesn't this phase you?" I asked, my voice betraying none of the turmoil inside me.

Gen turns to look at me, her dark eyes reflecting an enigmatic calm. She shrugs, the motion graceful and dismissive. "Let's just say I've seen stranger things."

Stranger than a daylight abduction? My heart races, yet fear is strangely absent from the cocktail of emotions churning within me—replaced by curiosity or perhaps the adrenaline that had started pumping the moment Dre's gaze connected with mine.

"Strange is one word for it," I murmur, feeling the weight of Dre's gaze from beside me.

Gen chuckles, a sound that doesn't quite match the seriousness of the situation. "Honey, you haven't seen anything yet. But relax, they don't bite. Well, not unless you ask nicely." The corner of her mouth quirks up in a playful smirk.

I roll my eyes. "Noted," I say dryly.

"Speaking of biting," Gen begins casually, leaning toward me slightly, "what's your deal with Preston?"

I stiffen, caught off guard. "Preston?"

"Come on, Addy. You can't possibly be that into him. He's about as exciting as watching paint dry," Gen prods, her tone light but probing.

"I—" I hesitate. "My parents arranged it," I finish lamely.

"Your parents," Gen repeats, drawing out the word as if tasting it. "And you just do everything they say?"

"They gave me a life most people can only dream of." More like a nightmare. "Who am I to question them?"

"Right," Gen says, fixing me with an unwavering stare. "You're interesting, Addy Winthrop. A mystery wrapped in an enigma, doused in a hell of a lot of Nordic beauty. I think we'll be fast friends."

I look away from her piercing gaze and out the window, where the world passes by in a blur of normalcy that feels galaxies away from the space inside this car.

Where the hell are they taking me and what's it going to cost me this time?

Chapter fifteen

Chess

The rumble of the engine mixes with the low hum of conversation, and I can't help but strain my ears to catch what's being said behind me. Saint's gripping the wheel beside me, his jaw set in that way that means he's lost in thought. But it's not him I'm focused on.

"Come on, Snowflake, you know you're too pretty to look so damn sad all the time," Dre's voice slithers from the backseat, a little too close, a little too smooth.

"I'm sorry, did you just tell my girl she needs to smile more? I know you didn't," Gen scoffs.

I shift uncomfortably, my gaze flickering toward the rear view mirror to catch a glimpse of her. The chill in Addy's eyes is unmistakable, even just at the edge of my vision. "I don't need your concern, Dre," she says, her tone ice over steel.

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