Page 16 of Betraying Family Vows
That stops me cold.
"You don't even know what you're involved in, do you?" he says. "Who you decided to fuck with."
"Shut up."
He laughs. "Someone gave you just enough pain to weaponize you. But," he says and jabs my ribs with his gun, "not enough truth to keep you alive."
"You're wrong," I say. But even to me, I sound desperate.
He leans in close.
"If I was wrong, I'd be dead right now. You had your chance. You didn't take it."
I swallow hard. My throat feels like it's closing.
"You think you're safe because you're pretty," he says, voice low. "You think you can play games and walk away. But you picked the wrong fucking man, Athena."
I feel tears building, but I force them back. I will not cry in front of him.
"Why didn't you kill me?" I say, glancing at him and seeing his blue eyes shift between me and the road.
"Because it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out you're in over your head, and I have questions. So..." he says, trailing off, "plus, I figured they wouldn't shoot you. That would help get me out alive."
"Well, since you basically used me as a shield, can you at least tell me where you're taking me?"
"Somewhere safe."
I scoff. "Safe with you? The man threatening me with a gun?"
He glances down at the weapon still resting against my side.
"You're safe as long as you're useful. Feel better now?"
"Not really," I say.
"Well, Alepoudítsa, it's the best you're gonna get."
I don't react. I tell myself it's just another game. Another way to get under my skin. But when he says it, the way it comes off his blood-streaked lip, I hate that it lingers in my head.
"You know I'll try to escape the first chance I get," I say it because it's true. And because I need to remind myself I still have some control left, even if I don't believe it anymore.
He smiles.
"We'll see," he says and points up ahead. "Take that road there until it ends. We're here."
6
DIMITRI
Ifinally feel like I'm shaking the last of the drugs from my system.
Athena is still driving like she'll throw us into a ditch at any moment, but I know she won't. Not yet. I'd know if she was ready to die.
She's not.
I watch her grip the steering wheel with everything she's got as she takes the turn onto the narrow dirt road. The headlights cut through darkness. It feels like we're driving into a void.
"Slow down," I order as we go through the winding road, past abandoned homes and dark olive groves. This was once a lively village, now it's just ruins, but thankfully, my family owns it.
