Page 139 of Play Book

He seems to be considering it.

“No. She comes with us. She’s kind of cute. We can let her watch.”

Sweet Jesus.

I want to puke.

But I have to be strong.

For Ally, if not for myself.

“Watch what?” Ally asks in confusion.

Russell laughs gleefully. “Ohhh, this is going to be fun. Are you still a virgin, little girl?”

“Don’t engage,” I warn, pushing her behind me again. “He’s just trying to get a reaction out of you.”

“Oh, yes.” He rubs his hands together, the gun dangling from one finger. “There will be many reactions going forward.”

“Why are you doing this?” I ask quietly. “I’m sorry I didn’t want to date you, but we didn’t hit it off.”

“We would have.” He glares at me, a little bit of spittle flying from his mouth. “If you hadn’t run off with the hockey jerk.”

“I knew Canyon long before I met you,” I say. “And anyway, we’re just friends.”

“Liar!” He grips the gun and points it at me. “I’ve seen you—in New York. Rutting in your kitchen like wild dogs. It’s disgusting. But you won’t be with him ever again. Now you’ll be with me. Let’s go.”

I can’t think about what he’d just said—or how he knew what we’d done in my kitchen—because we’re almost out of time. Once we leave the gallery, I can’t protect Ally. And she’s the priority here.

No matter what he does to me, I’ll survive.

Rage is coming.

Canyon is on the way.

Someone will find me.

But Ally has been traumatized enough in her short life.

I can’t even imagine what a kidnapping might do to her.

It’s now or never.

Ally is closer to the back door. Russell is about five feet away from me on my right. If I throw myself at him, there’s a chance I can knock the gun out of his hand. I can’t overpower him, but I can kick him in the balls and stick one of my nails into his eye. All I need is enough time for Ally to run.

My eyes meet hers and I see a determination there that I recognize.

She’s a fighter.

She knows we’re in trouble, and though I don’t know a lot about her life before she came to L.A., I recognize the wariness. She’s been through something like this before.

“What do we do?” she mouths.

“Run.” I mouth back as succinctly as I can. “Get help.”

“I don’t want to leave you.” Her voice is barely a whisper, but I hear it.

“I’ll be okay as long as you’re safe. You’re the priority.”

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