Page 144 of Say My Name

“I believe it,” I say under my breath. I glance out the window once more, trying to swallow the despair in my throat.

“No one’s coming to save you,” he says.

All my muscles go rigid. “Maybe I don’t need saving.”

He appears amused by this. “When I’m through with you, there’ll be nothing left to save, sweetheart.”

Goosebumps erupt over my skin, and I wish I could punch this freak square in his jaw. “We’ll see about that.” I know I should stop taunting him, but he brings out the worst side of me. My gaze stumbles around the room he’s holding me in, searching for escape, determination clenching my jaw. On the night table, in a sea of mail and papers, is something shiny and silver. Possibly a letter opener.

I have to get it.

He needs to leave the room again.

“Did you hear that?” I ask as pulse-pounding uncertainty courses through me.

Please work.I say the silent prayer, hoping he falls for the decoy.

“There it is again,” I say, peering out the large window. “I heard something out there.”

“Nice try,” Guy says, but then he turns his head, blinking in confusion. He takes a tentative step closer to the window like he also hears something outside.

Please leave.

I pretend to listen as well.

He pivots and steps out of the room. In a flash, I grab the letter opener and hide it under the long sleeve of my shirt.

Guy returns seconds later, aiming his gun back at me.

“You’ll never get away with this,” I tell him.

“I already have.”

“You kill me and Brandon will no longer look guilty for the crimes.”

Guy laughs. “I don’t plan on killing you. Not yet anyway. I plan on using you as bait.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “No one even knows I’m here.”

His eyes are hooded like those of a hawk. “Well, then I guess I'll kill you.”

As casually as I can, I ask, “Tell me more about your father.”

“I don’t want to talk about that asshole.” He levels me with a glare, his guard appearing stronger than before.

“Tell me about Devereaux. What do you plan on doing to him?” I try to get him to crack. Yet, he’s good. Even in his apparent unstable state, he’s still very aware of what’s going on.

He paces the floor, pulling at his dark strands with his free hand. Then, he stops, his face growing serious as his expression stills. “I’m going to kill him.”

“What about Greer? Was it you who attacked her?”

“That bitch deserves to die.” He resumes pacing the floor. “It was so easy to set up the bomb in her office.”

I step closer to him, looking for any chance to attack.

He continues gleefully telling me about the type of bomb he used and how no one even suspected him, and I keep moving closer to him.

“Wow, you were pretty smart to do all that.” Another inch closer.

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