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Chapter Twelve
VALENTINA
“You are a kinky bastard, aren't you?”
Leaving the hotel felt like progress until he produced the blindfold.
I'm in the back of a car, and Torin just finished tying my blindfold. He says it’s because he's taking me on an errand, then to a new location, and that “it's for my own good” that I don't know where we're going.
Guess that trust we reached is a one-way street.
“Kinky bastard?” He leans in, his mouth close to my ear. “You have no idea, love.” I shiver involuntarily. I don't know what's going to happen or where he’s taking me, but I know I’m playing with fire and enjoying every fucking burn.
If what Torin is telling me is true, we have a mutual enemy, and he's going to use what I know to track them down. He already has.
It's cold in the back of the car, and when I shiver, I hear him fiddle with the heat up front.
“That better?”
“Yes.” He needs to stop making me like him. “Listen. Who the hell am I going to tell?”
“Who knows? A friend. Your father. Your brothers.”
“Not sure if you've noticed, but I don't have any access to a cell phone. Come on, Torin.”
“Trust me, you not knowing the location is for your own good.”
“Heard that. Because that's not condescending at all.”
“It's not.”
My teeth clash when we go over a large bump.
“Sorry ’bout that. And it's the truth. If, for whatever reason, somebody gets to you before me, they could use what you know against you.”
“Fine.”
“What if they have trackers in you? I checked you superficially, but not all trackers are visible to the naked eye.” He pauses. “That’s our errand. I’m not sure that cut on your foot is just a cut.”
Wait a minute. What the fuck? I just developed a new fear. Trackers in me?
Oh god. I was drugged multiple times. Of course it’s possible.
“How would you know if I had trackers in me? What does that mean? And when exactly did you check me superficially?”
“In case you forgot, I had eyes all over your naked body, didn’t I? And it’s exactly what it sounds like. They put something on you, or in you, so they know where you're going.”
“How are we going to find these trackers?” I feel sick.
“Declan has a contact here in Boston, and that's where we're going first.”
“I'm being blindfolded and led to a stranger so you can check whether our enemies put a tracker in me? I don't like that.”
“There are a lot of things about this I don't like, but we have to do it for—”
“My own good. I heard you the first two times.” If he says “for your own good” one more fucking time…
He grunts disapprovingly in the front seat when we go over another bump. My teeth clash together. “Sorry. Jesus, do they ever fix their roads in Boston?” He pauses. “You hungry?”
