Page 5 of A Fine Line

Then he blinks and says, ‘I guess I don’t have to figure out how to sneak out of your apartment now.”

“What do you mean?”

He raises his brows at me like I’m an idiot and replies, slowly, “Since you’re already down here we’ll head out straightaway.”

“I can’t leave!” I exclaim, the idea of losing my only connection to the entire reason I exist sending me into a panic.

He narrows his eyes at me—clearly unhappy with my words—takes a step closer, and points his finger at me as he says, “You can and you will, whether on your own two feet or over my shoulder.”

Anxiety overwhelms me, and I sputter, ready to duke it out if necessary. “You don’t understand!

“Then make me fucking understand!”

The words get stuck in my throat, and I snap my mouth shut, grinding my teeth together in frustration. I don’t know how to explain my entire existence without putting someone I love in danger, so, finally, I decide to keep it generic and say, “I can’t go do whatever I want with my life. People’s lives depend on what I do and how I act. I can’t live a life knowing I didn’t do whatever I could to protect them.”

He waits a few moments, eyeing me suspiciously, and then he glances away and rubs his hands over his face. He turns back to me and asks, “What’s the point in living your life in a cage if you don’t get to see the results of your sacrifices?”

“My life doesn’t matter. The people I love, those lives matter.”

“That’s where you’ve got it all wrong, Carolina,” he replies. “And that’s what you need to change in your mind. We care about other people, we love them, and we do our best to take care of them, but we do not live for other people. We live for ourselves. You need to learn to live for you.”

I blink rapidly against the burning behind my eyes. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“Well, maybe it’s time you learn.”

“I can’t,” I yell, panic overtaking me at the thought of moving away from the only existence I’ve known for most of my life. “I can’t fucking do it. Put me back in my prison and walk away, Tony. That’s what you need to do.”

He smirks at me, and I groan, knowing what’s coming before he opens his mouth. I don’t wait for him to speak. I take off, sprinting back toward the entrance of my high-rise prison. He’s right on my heels, his boots slapping heavily on the concrete, and I quickly recognize that there’s no chance I’ll outrun him, but I continue to try.

A few feet from the doors, he grabs me from behind, and the doorman raises his brows at us questioningly as Tony lifts me off my feet and spins around. “Now, now, darling,” he says sweetly. “Let’s not get too excited with our little chase game. You’ll get those spankings soon enough.”

The doorman cracks a small smile and averts his eyes, and I scream internally and thrash in Tony’s embrace so he sets me onto my feet, only to turn me to face him and shoving his shoulder into my stomach as he stands, hefting me up in a fireman’s carry.

He turns away from the building and stalks across the parking lot, and I yell, “Where the fuck are you taking me?”

He pauses, stooping down and picking up a duffel bag he had hidden in the bushes, then starts walking again, completely ignoring my question.

A car alarm system beeps, doors click unlocked, then a trunk lid releases, and I’m being dumped off his shoulder. I fall into the trunk with a thud and immediately attempt to get out, but his hand on my chest pushes me back down, and he leans into me, forcing me still as he says, “I’m only going to say this once, sweetheart. Either you come with me willingly, or I take you by force. You choose.”

“I can’t co—“

He doesn’t let me finish, instead shoving something into my mouth, and I struggle, shaking my head in an attempt to spit it out, but it’s too late. I bring my hands up behind my head to undo the buckles of the gag, but he grabs my wrists, quickly flipping me onto my front and shackling my arms behind my back.

He rolls me onto my side so I’m not lying on my cuffed hands, then looks me over. He adjusts the gag in my mouth only enough where I can pull air around it if needed but not enough that I can remove it, then he straightens. “We’re going to take a little trip, sweetheart,” he says almost pleasantly. “When we get where we’re going, we can discuss your past, present, and future, and also how you plan on repenting for the death of someone I care about.”

I scream behind the gag, thrashing about to no avail, and eventually, I calm down, lying there panting through my nose.

And the fucker smiles at me, obviously pleased with himself, as he leans in close and whispers, “Don’t think just because I saved your life that I don’t still hate you.”

Then he jerks back and slams the lid of the trunk shut, leaving me in darkness.

Chapter Three

Carolina

IfIwasanyother woman, I’d likely be freaking out to find myself in what appears to be a wooden box—crying, blubbering, and begging to be released, even.

But that’s not me.

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