Page 112 of Wicked Duty
I’m broken.
Even if I wanted to connect with others, I don’t remember how.
Colliding with Lucy Marlow flipped my entire world upside down. I haven’t been the same since that first moment she came crashing into my life. Or maybe I crashed into hers. Either way, in our short time together, she changed my life for the better.
And I still betrayed her.
Without blinking. Without thinking.
I lied. I schemed. I went behind her back, and I’m so fucked up that I believed nothing would change. I brought this horrible outcome on myself. I deserve every bit of the pain currently ripping me to shreds—the only proof that I’m still human at all.
My hands tremble. I almost don’t register the vibration of an incoming call against my palm.
I fumble to answer. “Lucy?”
She says nothing.
“Lucy, can you hear me?”
Shuffling on the other end of the line. Voices.
I frown, a frigid knot of apprehension forming in my gut.
Lucy’s speaking to someone else in an eerily calm voice.
“The wallet you want is in a safety deposit box at First National.”
Only a second passes before her meaning sinks in, snaking horror up my spine. My palms start to sweat.
This isn’t a butt dial. It’s a covert SOS call.
She continues talking. “It’s Labor Day weekend, so the bank won’t be open until Tuesday morning. I can get you everything you need then.”
“The two of you will be my guests for as long as Viktor demands.” An Italian accent curls against my ear. “Now, get up. We’re leaving.”
The two of you?
Where the hell is Lucy, and who’s with her? She left with Veronika. Does that mean they were ambushed in the short time they’ve been gone?
Though the male speaker sounds familiar, I can’t place him yet. Luckily, Lucy thinks fast on her feet.
“Marco.” Her voice is firm. Steady. “Please don’t do this. Let Heather go.”
Marco Benetti.That slimy bastard.
And Heather Kincaid, one of the other models. The young one Lucy befriended the night of the charity event. The two of them, snared by a wolf in designer clothing.
If a world-renowned modeling sensation wants to get you alone, you let him.
That’s what any of these hopeful young women would do.
Except he’s in cahoots with Viktor Roguilin. I knewthere was a reason I never liked that asshole.
Rage and regret blaze through me like wildfire.
I never should’ve left her alone. Fuck the wallet. Fuck Shane Gallagher. If I’d stayed with her, she’d still be safe.
My muscles tighten with the need to act, but that type of impulsivity leads to mistakes.
