Page 53 of Property of Grifter
“You remembering that you don’t do relationships and me ending up alone, maybe pregnant because a condom failed?”
“If I knock you up, trust me the last thing I’m going to do is run, Izzy,” he vows.
“I won’t have a man who is just there because I got knocked up.This whole conversation is moot, anyway.We’re over, remember?This is just a final goodbye.”
“Suck me,” he says gruffly, and I hate it because I can feel his pain—that’s another thing that makes these visions so painful.
I keep my gaze on C, doing my best not to watch whatever Izzy is doing.It’s probably a good thing I do, because I watch him as he keeps one hand in Izzy’s hair, forcing her to keep her head down.Then he pulls out a syringe from his pocket.
Shit C, don’t do this.I beg silently.Then I watch as he sinks the syringe into her arm.She tries to jerk away, but he doesn’t let her, holding her with a fierceness that I’ve never seen from him.
“Caleb...”
“It’s going to be okay, Izzy.I promise.”
“What did you do?”she asks, as he takes the syringe away.
“I’m not going to let you throw us away, Izzy,” he whispers.“Just rest.”
“You drugged me?”
“It’s just a sedative.A doctor gave it to me, it won’t hurt you, baby.I just needed to get you out of here without you fighting me.”
“You’re crazy.”
“No, baby girl.I just can’t let you go,” he whispers.“We belong together.”
“Caleb…” Her voice cracks, weak.“You drugged me.”
“I just needed time, Izzy.I’ll make it up to you.You’ll see—we’re meant to be.”
I jolt awake, gasping, drenched in cold sweat.My chest is heaving, and for a second, I can still hear Izzy’s fading voice in my head.
“Georgie?”Griffin’s voice is rough with sleep.He sits up beside me, eyes sharp in the dim light.“You okay?”
I shake my head.“Where’s C?”
“What?”
“Where’s C, Griff?”
“At the club, I think.Why?”
“I just had a dream,” I confess, my voice shaking.“In it C went to Kentucky.He drugged a girl named Izzy.He’s kidnapping her.”
He stares at me.“C wouldn’t?—”
“Call him.”
“Georgia—”
“I said call him, Griffin!”
He grabs his phone and dials.“Savage, put C on the line—now.”A pause.“When?”There’s another pause and Griffin rubs the back of his neck.“If he checks in, tell him to call me immediately—or I’ll have his balls cut off and stuffed in a bottle for my desk.”
“Griff—?”
He hangs up and redials his phone, muttering curses under his breath.He hits a button putting it on speakerphone, because I can hear the ringing and then C answers.
