Page 44 of Captive Audience
“I know. I’m proving a point.”
“What point? That you can humiliate me whenever you feel like being a sadistic prick?”
“No,” he said firmly. “That you’re mine and the sooner you accept it, the sooner we can get to work.”
This fucking guy.
Fine. I could do it. I could get over my pride this one time so I could be free from jail and rain misery on Rook while he forced me to run his bullshit investigation. I’d make him regret the day he laid eyes on me.
I cleared my throat. “Please,Husband”—gag—“can you get me out of jail?”
The request scraped up my throat like a fistful of broken glass, but I forced it out anyway. Dignity was a luxury I couldn’t afford anymore.
“Of course, love. I’ll be there soon.” He hung up again.
Petty gave me his smuggest grin. “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Ebola. The curse would also give him Ebola.
Twenty minutes later, Rook strutted toward the holding cell like he owned the whole damn station, which I figured he did. He clapped Officer Petty on the back, and the pair of them laughed about some mutual joke—probably me.
All the while, Rook’s gaze remained locked on mine. Arrogant. Satisfied. Triumphant.
I didn’t like losing. I especially didn’t like losing to a criminal. I’d dealt with injustice before, but staring into the face of the person who’d caused it made a fresh wave of fury surge within me.
The asshole came right up to where I stood by the bars. “Are you ready?”
“To commit a felony punishable with the death sentence? Yes.”
“You’re building quite the rap sheet, love.”
“You wanted a Mob wife. Looks like you’ve got one.”
He smiled in an oddly approving way. “Just ask me to take you home, and I will.”
“I’ll come home with you, sugar,” came a seductive voice from behind me.
“Me too,” sung out another.
Slowly, I looked over my shoulder and gave my traitorous cellmates a hard stare, then returned my glare to Rook. “Get me the fuck out of here.”
“My pleasure.” At Rook’s nod, Officer Petty stood and reached for his keys. “Smile, love. Your new life is about to begin.”
22
ROOK
My driver collected us from the front of the station in the town car. When he closed the rear door behind me, Asha slid to the far side and folded her arms.
“In case you’ve forgotten, I hate you.”
Her declaration was neither surprising nor unwarranted. But if her ire motivated her to find the Soul Collector faster so she could be rid of me, maybe it was a good thing. “Wow. It’s like we’ve been married for years.”
“Oh, shut up,” she spat.
“I assume your stint behind bars gave you sufficient time to accept your situation.”
Asha fiddled with the gold band around her finger. “It gave me sufficient time to plot your death.”
