Page 134 of The Good Girl

“You think I should take the deal?”

“I think I flew out here to make sure you weren’t getting shafted because you might be my client, but you’re also my friend. You’re not gonna get a deal better than that. I don’t know who has a hard-on for you, but someone does. If you want to see your book become a movie, this is it. It really doesn’t get better than this.”

I look up at her smiling face. Her dark skin practically glows with excitement.

“You have time to think about it, but my advice is not to take too long. Deals like this come along once in a lifetime.”

“Take it.”

“Really? You’re sure?”

I chuckle. “I thought you were trying to talk me into it.”

“Oh, I am, but I want you to be one hundred percent sure.”

“I’m ninety-ninety percent sure.”

“Works for me. My flight is due soon, so I’ll email them from the airport to let them know you’re accepting their offer.”

She wraps her arms around me and gives me a squeeze. “I’m so excited for you. This is going to be amazing. I can see it now.”

I blow out a nervous breath. “I hope you’re right. Just don’t expect me to do a bunch of talk shows or press junkets. I’m not that girl.”

She waves me off. “Leave me to work my magic. We’ll figure something out.” She looks at her watch. “Shoot, I really do need to go.”

“Go. I’ll be fine. I’ll wait here until my ride gets back. He must have grabbed a coffee.”

“You sure? I’d give you a ride, but I might miss my flight.”

“I’ll be fine. Besides, I think Havoc would have a meltdown if I slipped my guard for the day and wandered back into the clubhouse without him.”

“The feminist in me wants to tear apart everything you just said, but the other part of me wants to stab you with my knitting needle and take the man for myself. Not sure what it says about me.”

“That maybe you should leave knitting to people without psychopathic tendencies.”

“No, that can’t be right.” She grins before crossing the parking lot and climbing into the rental she parked a few down from my car.

She lowers the window and calls my name as I look around for Probe.

“I’m proud of you, honey.”

“You just remember that the next time you want me to do something and I say no,” I yell back, making her laugh as she pulls away.

I shake my head and pull out my cell phone, firing off a text to Probe. I can see his bike, so I know he hasn’t gone far, but Havoc won’t be happy if he finds out he left me, even if it’s to use the bathroom.

I read messages and fiddle with my phone for a bit, but I curse when I see that I still can’t access Instagram or Facebook. I will have to get G to look at it. I wander over to my car, figuring I might as well wait inside where I can sit and run the AC. Besides, it’s safer in there, and I’m pretty sure I have a cereal bar in the glove box. I didn’t eat before the meeting because I was too nervous. Now I’m starving.

Heading toward my car, I keep my eyes peeled for anything unusual, but all seems quiet. I unlock the car and lean in to place the bag on the seat when I’m grabbed from behind. I freeze for a second and curse the universe because I did everything right, and I’m still being punished.

I drop the bag as I fight against him. A glancing blow with my elbow to his gut makes him loosen his hold. Too close to the car to get in and lock the door before he grabs me, I take off running in the other direction, across the parking lot, hoping someone will see me and help. I run down the side of a car before spinning around, using the car as a barricade between us.

“Help!” I scream at the top of my voice, hoping it will deter him. But when Driller comes into view, I know there is nothing I can say or do that will stop him. The set expression is the same one Havoc gets when he’s made up his mind about something.

“You won’t get away with this. Havoc will kill you,” I snap at him as I keep moving, feinting one way and running the other. But it’s quiet here today, and too few cars are in the lot to offer me protection.

I need to stay out of the way long enough for Probe to return. I throw caution to the wind and sprint as fast as I can to the next row of cars in the lot. I’m running in heels, butI’m fueled by terror. Even so, Driller tackles me to the ground like a linebacker, knocking the air out of me and bashing my head against the concrete. I feel my body burn in places where the skin has ripped away. I try to scream as he pins me to the ground, but I can’t get enough air into my lungs.

He grins down at me maniacally, grinding himself against me. Tears slip down my face when I realize he’s hard. My struggling is getting him off. Finally, I manage to take a breath, but when I feel the snick of a knife pressing against my throat, I know screaming is not an option.

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