Page 105 of Morally Gray Daddies

“I need to know,” he interrupted my chain of thought, “you won’t be rash and do something like your friend Sonja has.”

“I… I won’t.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Your hesitancy does not inspire confidence.”

“I’m sorry, but”—I made a flailing gesture with my hands—“can you seriously expect me to act like I’m sure of anything right now? None of this makes any sense! I swear, I’m doing the best I can!”

He gave a sympathetic nod. “Again, completely understandable, but I have to be sure, and we’re running out of time.” He glanced back toward the two vehicles. “So, let me outline my options here: I can drug you into an unconscious state and transport you hidden in the back of the SUV.”

Before I could protest, he said, “There are advantages to being unconscious. You’ll simply feel like you’re taking a long nap, and you won’t have to deal with any stress that might arise if we do encounter anyone. The only risk is how you might react to the medication. Do you know if you have any opioid allergies?”

“Opioids?” I choked.

“Yes. You know, like morphine, heroin…”

“Oh my God, you’re not seriously suggesting shooting me up with heroin, are you?”

“Well, no, not heroin, actually. What I have is a cocktail of Diprivan and ketamine for general anesthesia paired with fentanyl for?—”

“No.” I shook my head violently. “No, there has to be another option.”

“There is,” he replied with a nod. “If you assure me I can trust you not to draw attention to yourself and do exactly as I tell you during the trip we’ll be taking, you could ride up front with me.”

“I swear I’ll do whatever you tell me to. Just… please, no drugs.”

The thought of giving up that level of control completely, with no way of knowing what might happen to me while I was under… Even the things he’d already done did not panic me the way the idea of being drugged gripped me right now. If he went back on his word, reneged on the other option he’d offered, then I was going to do what I’d avoided so far—fight.

“I only offer the unconscious option because it would undoubtedly be easier on?—”

“I said no. Please.”

“Of course,” he said. “Now, if you don’t mind, we really do need to be going.” He placed his hand on the small of my back and gently nudged me toward the SUV.

Aubrey. Run.

The voice was tiny, fleeting, and I knew I should at least make the attempt, because… Sonja had. She was out there somewhere, and for all I knew she and the police could be less than five minutes away.

But I didn’t. I obeyed. I let him guide me to the front of the SUV, open the door, and help me as I climbed inside. In less than five minutes, we were down the drive, past the gate and heading toward the freeway approximately ten miles away.

The few times Sonja and I had driven from UC Davis south to Laguna Beach we’d come down the 5 to the 405, and then up into the hills above the seaside town. For some reason, I expected we’d be traveling the same way, which was a huge assumption on my part, because I had no idea exactly where we were headed. He’d said he was taking me, just not given me a specific destination. As we drove in silence, he seemed highly alert, but not tense. Just… cautious, and nothing seemed to escape his notice. I sat and watched as he drove past the 405 rather than turning north, a pang of anxiety scratching at my nerves as we bore off onto the tollway headed east toward Corona and Riverside. I remembered this route from the one time we’d driven to Vegas, and…

Was he taking me there? Or… out into the desert, where it would be easy to make me disappear.

‘I’m not a wasteful man,’ he’d said to Sonja. Which might be true, but what he also clearly was, was an enigma, and my anxiety rose with every mile we traveled eastward away from Sonja’s house.

As we began to climb the freeway through mountains beyond Riverside, he gave a small sigh and glanced over at me.

“You don’t have your cell phone on you by any chance, do you, Aubrey?”

I groaned inwardly. In my haste, I’d left it on the bathroom counter in the guest bathroom. So much for GPS tracking…

“No. It’s back at Sonja’s.”

“Good,” he replied quietly, his reason probably the same as what I’d thought. “And thank you.”

“For what?” I asked curiously.

“For not lying.”

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