Page 339 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

Icy snakes of fear worm through my bones as I’m hauled up and out of a car.

Marcus’s SUV. I remember a little now, although much of it’s still groggy. He led me out of my gran’s house to his car. Fuck knows how he got past the gates, but that doesn’t matter now, does it? He shoved me in the back, and was beside me an instant later. Like lovers getting ready for a quickie in the back seat.

I tried fighting him.

Don’t let them take you away.

Never change locations.

Rather die than let that happen.

Which is all sterling advice…if you have a fucking choice.

I didn’t.

Marcus the goddamn football player is twice my size. I didn’t stand a chance at resisting him. After the first kick, he had his ropes out and lashed around my ankles. And the first time I tried to scream, he gagged me. Once my hands were bound, there was literally nothing more I could do.

But he wasn’t satisfied. He brought out a syringe, and jabbed it into the side of my neck. Whatever was in it took effect in seconds. I don’t remember anything else—not how long I’ve been out, or if he did anything to me while I was unconscious. A mental scan of my body only tells me that my ankles and wrists are aching, and that I really need to pee.

My legs sag under me, and Marcus leaves bruises in my flesh as he props me up beside him and starts walking. The hood over my head is a new addition. When did he put it on? How long ago was that?

More importantly, where the fuck are we?

Chapter Forty-One

Briar

I finish my cigarette before I can force myself to watch the last video. As it is, I almost decide against it. Marcus’s actual depiction of a crime scene didn’t give me any fucking clues—what would another fake interview with my dead ex-girlfriend help? But it’s not as if I have anywhere to go. Any other leads to follow. I could scour the entire town of Lavish and not find him in time before he?—

Thumping my hand on the table hard enough to rattle the ashtray, I let out a long breath and stab the spacebar.

A shaky camera focuses on Jessica’s sleek hair. She turns her head, and grins wide at whoever’s holding the camera.

“What’s up, princess?” Marcus asks.

Jessica’s eyes go wide in surprise, and then she slaps playfully at him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

She tilts her head, lips pursing. “’Cos you know Briar will catch a fit if he hears you.”

“Why? I’m just protecting you from scavengers,” Marcus says. The camera phone zooms in on Jessica’s face. “Shouldn’t have left such a fine specimen by herself.”

Her eyes narrow. “You’re the scavenger, Marcus.” She’s jostled to the side as a pair of arms encircle her, each hand holding a red Solo cup. My face comes into view, eyes glassy and unfocused, hair a mess.

Christ, I’m drunk as fuck.

I give Marcus a lopsided smile and lift a cup for Jessica to take. Her eyes narrow at Marcus as if in warning, and then she spins in my arms and kisses me. Beer sloshes out the cups, but I don’t even seem to notice.

The longer the kiss goes on, the emptier both cups get, but then a bottle of vodka appears in the camera’s view. Marcus pours a few solid glugs into one of the cups—the one I’d been about to hand to Jess before she kissed me.

The bottle disappears. “Drink up, guys!”

I come out of my kiss wearing a wide, sloppy smile.

I was so happy. I can see it in my own face watching this now, and my heart squeezes before I can push away that unexpected swell of emotion.

Jessica peeks at Marcus over her shoulder. “He’s had enough,” she says, and then snatches the red cup from my hand as I’m bringing it to my mouth.

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