Page 17 of Forgotten Deeds

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Lily

My life has flashed before my eyes too many times to count, but my thoughts keep circling back to Iris, and what’s going to happen to her when I die. I almost started to believe Darius wasn’t really the devil. When am I going to learn my lesson about bad boys?

The car begins moving. Oh God, he’s taking me somewhere to kill me.

We haven’t traveled very far when the car comes to a stop. I don’t know what’s happening, but a loud boom rattles the trunk, and I scream; futile, because my mouth’s still covered with tape.

We start moving again, and I try to keep my breathing even so I don’t spiral into a full-blown panic attack. Thinking of Iris only makes things worse, and so to distract myself, I mentally count the seconds in Latin.

Having reached octingenti duodecim, the car lurches to a stop. Oh my God, this is it.

The trunk opens, and my killer looms over me. “Aggeloudhi mou,” Darius says softly, scooping me out of the trunk bridal-style.

Thrashing wildly, I rear back and head butt him with all my might. Shit, that hurt.

“Σκατ?,” he mutters, his arms tightening around me to the point of pain. “Stop that, or I’ll put you back in the trunk,” he menaces. “You going to be a good girl?”

I nod furiously.

“Then you can ride up front with me,” he says, opening the passenger door and placing me gently on the seat. Squatting down, he grabs a knife from his ankle, and my eyes go wide with fear. “I’m just cutting you loose,” he explains, making quick work of the zip ties around my ankles and wrists.

I rip the tape off my mouth and let out a blood-curdling scream as I scramble across the console to the driver’s side door.

Darius grabs my ankle before I can get there, yanking me back to the passenger seat. “That’s not being a good girl, Lily,” he chastises, closing and locking my door.

He walks around the vehicle, and I desperately tug at my door handle, but it won’t budge. “Help!” I scream, banging on the window.

“Why are you acting this way?” he demands as he slides behind the wheel and buckles up.

“Are you fucking serious?” I shriek. “I’m a witness to at least one murder, and pretty sure you just blew up the club because you reek of gasoline. I know too much, and you’re going to kill me. I’m acting this way because I’m fucking terrified!”

“Lily, I’ve already told you not to be afraid of me. But yes, you do know too much, and so there’s only one solution,” he says solemnly.

Me dead, I think with a gulp.

“We’ll get married.”

“What?” My mouth falls open.

“You can’t be forced to testify against me if you’re my wife. We’ll both keep our mouths shut about what just went down, and everything will work out,” he sells it, as if it’s a great idea.

“This is crazy!”

“You like the alternative?” he challenges.

“I’m not going to say anything to the cops. I swear it. Please just let me go,” I beg.

He snorts. “The cops are the least of your concerns. The family finds out you were at the club tonight, I won’t be able to protect you. Unless you’re my wife.”

“The family?”

“My associates.”

“The mob?” I whisper with another gulp, and he slices his head in confirmation. “What is it you do for these associates?” Besides threatening strippers and blowing up buildings.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” he says in a tone indicating this line of questioning is over.

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