Page 22 of Stealing His Christmas Present

Chapter 8

I COULDN’T FIND A COMFORTABLEposition no matter what I tried. My arms hurt. I was starving, and I was thirsty too.

Maybe I could try getting to the sink and opening the faucet with my mouth somehow, but I was so damn tired.

A cry escaped my lips as I shifted again. My arms were going numb.

Shit.

Why had Pablo said I’d pay for what I’d done? I hadn’t done anything. Well, not to him, anyway.

Maybe he’d misunderstood something that had happened and that I knew nothing about. If he wasn’t completely, bat-shit crazy, then there was still hope I could convince him to let me go or at least offer him something that he wanted in return.

I closed my eyes for a moment.

Maybe this was some kind of divine punishment for me. After all, I’d gotten two guards killed, and Stella and I had almost died too.

And all because of me.

If I had listened to Stella and everyone else who’d been telling me over and over again that I should be very careful and not leave the campus, I would’ve never met Pablo.

He never would’ve alerted the assassin where Stella and I were. My and Stella’s guards would still be alive.

Why had I wanted a normal life when I’d known full well I could never have it? Why had I wanted a taste of something that would never be possible for me?

I’d been a stupid child who thought she was untouchable.

I was never going to make the same mistake again.

But first, I had to get out of this cell and away from Pablo before he killed me. I had to find out what it was that he thought I’d done, and then maybe I could fix it.

My family had a lot of things they could offer to him in exchange for my safe return.

My death would bring him nothing good. My family would be looking for him until they found him, and his death wouldn’t be quick or merciful either.

So what the hell did he think he was getting out of all this?

Now the already familiar sound of footsteps chased away the silence.

Pablo was back.

Maybe he’d seen, with his stupid little camera, that I was in pain. Maybe there was still something left of that boy who’d danced with me.

He unlocked the door and entered the cell. “I hope you learned your lesson.”

I didn’t say anything as he crouched and untied me.

I groaned as I sat up, rubbing my sore wrists. My gaze fell on the gun tucked in the holster that was peeking from under Pablo’s black shirt.

“What do you want?” I asked as he coiled the rope.

Running for the door now required too much energy, and I was sure he’d catch me easily. The last thing I wanted was to get tied up again.

But maybe I could get that gun.

I just had to distract him.

“You’ll see,” he said.

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