A Harmless Little Plan (Harmless #3)(20)

“You really are naive, aren’t you?” With an attitude so close to tenderness it re-ignites my fear sensors, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a blade.

Jane’s on the floor, scrambling to stand up, breathing hard, making little mewling noises as she spots the knife.

Instead of cutting me, Stellan does something else, my braced body flinching as I hear the snap of the plastic zip tie around my wrists being cut. Then he holds the blade up to my face, poking lightly at the soft, thin skin under my right eye. One tiny move and he’ll pierce my eyeball. I can’t blink. Can’t flinch. Can’t react, because I could be the instrument of my own blinding.

Carefully, almost theatrically, Stellan lowers the knife, folds it in half, and shoves it in his back pocket. His hands cup my face, cradling my jaw as he studies me, tilting his head to and fro, eyes crawling over my features like he’s determining my value.

Like an appraiser at an antiques show.

Like a courier delivering a sex slave.

And then he kisses me. The gesture throws me into a strange place inside, like I’m at a freak show carnival and I’m one of the acts. Everything goes crooked and off key. My lips are cold, still stinging from Stellan ripping off the duct tape, and feel like soft plastic. Stellan’s lips are warm and wet, slippery with power as he pulls me roughly to him, my nipples brushing against the fabric of his button-down shirt. With Drew, this would be erotic, arousing, pleasurable – maddeningly ecstatic.

It feels like death with Stellan, as if I’m a corpse and he’s kissing me, my blood stopped and my heart a cold piece of meat in my chest, unyielding.

I cannot react. I hold my breath, hoping he’ll stop, knowing he won’t.

Then he pulls away and gives me a loving smile that doesn’t match the violent look in his eyes.

And he slaps me so hard across the face that I fall off the bed into a heap, at Jane’s feet.

Then he rips the tape off Jane’s mouth as she lets out weird, wounded sounds like an animal caught in a trap, halfway through gnawing off its leg.

“Because,” Stellan says calmly as Jane sobs, bending over to help me, my hair covering my chest, my nakedness on display, “because we can, Lindsay. If you could do anything you wanted and know you’d never be caught, what would you do? How far would you go?”

“This – this isn’t some stupid horror movie, Stellan!” Jane blurts out as her hands slip under my armpits, gently helping to prop me against the wall. He must be wearing a ring, because there’s a nasty slash on my upper eyelid, a long, hot cut that feels like lightning.

“Oh, God, shut her up, too,” Stellan says. “She’s just an extra.” An extra? From the way she’s acting, it’s very clear she’s not in on this.

John grabs Jane, who tries to struggle, but she keeps looking at me. She knows I’m her fate. Whatever they do to me, she’s next.

“WHY?” I scream. “Why? Just because you want to isn’t a good enough reason. It’s weak. You’re weak. You’re just doing this because someone’s pulling your strings. You’re too stupid to pull this off on your own.” I harden my voice, taunting them on purpose. Why not? What the hell do I have to lose?

Stellan’s taste is still in my mouth. I breathe slowly, imagining his cells floating out of me on my outbreath, evicting him from my body.

“You think we’re the stupid ones?” John barks, laughing. A drill next door starts up again, the sound louder, closer. John and Stellan move even closer to that wall, giving each other those disquieting looks again. Whatever they’re planning to do to me, it’s imminent. Any second now, I won’t be alive.

DREW! my mind screams. I can’t stop thinking about him, how he’s failed me, how all my hopes and dreams are gone now.

My last gasp of hope fades out as I stand, shoulders back, and walk across the room, confronting them. If I’m going to die, I’ll do it on my terms.

I won’t be a scared little rabbit anymore. Not for these last seconds of my life.

John’s eyes narrow, and Stellan flattens his palm against the wall, annoyed by my presence, his other hand moving in an arc, ready to hit me.

So I grab John by the back of the neck and make him kiss me.





Drew


Is she kissing John?

Is Lindsay really kissing John by choice?

Completely shocked by what I’m seeing on my screen, I hesitate, then regroup.

My mission hasn’t changed.

I’m still here to save her.

But is she kissing him because this is all part of some sick plan of hers?

Or worse – is she in on her own kidnapping?

I reel back. The world ripples, like I’m under the surface, looking up through crystal clear blue water and a rainstorm begins.

Then it clears.

The reason she’s kissing him like that has nothing to do with saving her. Divorce the thought, Foster.

Analysis later.

Action now.

“The pipes look good,” I call back toward the hallway in a disguised voice, Tiffany rushing over, looking worried.

“Okay, Pete!” she says in an exaggerated voice as I flip my phone screen over. The last thing she needs to see is a naked woman in a bedroom with another woman and two guys next door.

Then she whispers, “Where’s the camera crew? I’ve got everything ready.”