Page 26 of The Villain's Captive (The Villain's Duet 1)

“You don’t mind, now, do you Henry?”

“No, sir.”

Elijah shot me an arrogant glare, annoyance rippling from his rigid shoulders. There was so much rage, panic, fear, I had my body pushed up against the door. “What is going on right now?” I didn’t even realize I was crying until I tasted the saltiness of my tears on my lips.

He dragged his hand through his hair, then straightened his collar as if he tried to slip that cool façade back. Meanwhile, I was busy hyperventilating while my brain splintered inside my skull, trying to make fucking sense of what just happened.

There was this heavy silence around us, and not even the bustling New York crowds and traffic could penetrate it. The grueling sense of foreboding filled my lungs, and I sat back, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

He glanced in my direction. “Not yet.”

“What?” I glowered at him. “What the fuck do you mean, not yet?”

“I mean not yet!” he snapped. The tension that rolled off him was frightening, his dark gaze holding a secret he struggled to share. “Things are not as they seem, Charlotte.”

“No shit. First you kidnap me, and now you shot a guy?” I tugged at my hair as I weaved my fingers through the curls. “I can’t even fucking think straight right now.”

He rubbed his palm across his beard, the scratchy sound scraping against my last goddamn nerve.

“I can tell you more when we get to our destination.”

I balked. “Our destination? Where are we going?”

Elijah eyed the driver, the look of distrust flashing across his face. “You’ll know when we get there.”

Something inside me snapped—my sanity, maybe. But every muscle in my body reacted as if there was something inside me that needed to get out. To escape.

God, I needed to escape.

“I can’t. No. No. I can’t do this. I can’t be here.” With panicked breaths and adrenaline gushing through my veins, I grabbed the doorhandle, desperate to get out. I didn’t care if I died while jumping out of a fucking moving car, I just wanted to get away from all of this. From him.

“Jesus, Charlotte. Stop.” Hands grabbed my shoulder, and I pulled my knee up, kicking at him, screaming for him to leave me the fuck alone.

“Let me go.” The door wouldn’t open, and my throat started to close up, panic wrapping its poisonous tentacles around my lungs. “Let me out!”

“No, stop!”

He pulled me back, slamming me into his chest as he wrapped an arm around me, pinning me so I couldn’t move.

There was a sharp stab in the top of my arm, a needle, and I felt the liquid burn as it spread through my veins. “Why are you doing this to me?” I cried. My pathetic attempt at staying strong didn’t even last a fucking day. “Why?”

“Shhhh, little cellist. Soon.”

“No, no, no.” My words got lost and my body went numb, my thoughts vanishing, until it was all…black.

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