biting his lower lip when he didn't respond. “You will love me again, Mason,” she demanded.
Stall! Grasping the only tactic that came to mind, he said, “You don't have to hurt me,” as suggestively as he could. “Let me free, Priscilla.”
She took a step back, measuring her captive. As much as she wanted his hands on her, she couldn't let him free. There wasn't anywhere for him to go if she released him, but she knew he would run. He might even try and kill her in the process. “No. I can't let you out, Mason. You might hurt me.”
There was no might about it. “Why would I do that?”
Her face changed, instantly going hard. “You chose some dirty little Russian dancer over me. You don't care about me.”
Not even a little bit. “She's American,” he corrected instead, despite the fire in Priscilla's eyes.
“She needs your money and your name.”
Again, he knew better but engaged in the conversation. “Why?”
“She was in danger of losing her itty-bitty studio, so you bought it for her,” she accused. “I don't need your money. I just need you.”
He thought for a moment, tried to find a better topic. “Why drugs?” He mentally kicked himself. What the fuck was he thinking?
She grinned at the question, pleased with herself. “It was a brilliant plan. Your kitten will go to prison for years and years for that, where she can't get to you.”
“I'll still love her.”
That earned him a swift blow to the abdomen. “The hell you will!” she screamed. “You will love me and no one else!”
“What if I don't?” He winced as soon as the words rolled off his tongue. His mouth was going to get him murdered before he had a chance to escape.
She ran a finger over the delineations of his abs through his shirt, stopping at the elastic band of his briefs. “You will love me. You just have to remember.”
His muscles tensed under her hands, and his skin crawled. “That was so long ago, Priscilla,” he said between clenched teeth.
She stomped her feet, her heels clattering against the wooden floor. “It doesn't matter!” She leaned down to the bed to look him in the eye. “It's me or death, Mason. Take your pick.”
Death was sounding better and better. He didn't want to die, but the alternative was worse. “I don't like those options.”
She ran her hand down his jawline. “No one will find you here, Mason. I don't care how long you want to play this game.” She kissed him again, this time pressing her tongue against his lips for entry. When he denied her, she let out a frustrated squeal and slapped him hard across the jaw, throwing his head to the side. “I can out wait you.” She crossed the room, turning just before opening the door. “I'm leaving you alone to think about what you've done."
Now his jaw throbbed along with his head, his ass, and his arms and legs. Although he knew he was playing with fire, he couldn't help but ask the question, “Just what have I done?”
She made a tsking sound. “You have deprived me of my children—our children—long enough. I'll leave you here to think on that.” She looked at the slim white gold watch on her left wrist. “I'm coming for you in one hour, Mason. You'd best make a decision.”
An hour? He had an hour to decide whether or not he would comply with her or die? “I love Kat. That will never change.”
She brandished her small handgun. “Are you so sure?”
“Yes.”
“I'm giving you that hour, Mason.” She turned on her stiletto and sauntered out of the tiny room.
He wasn't worried about waiting. It was after the waiting that scared him shitless. He didn't move for long minutes after she left the room before he began to work at his taped appendages. He had to get out of there. Now.
~*~
“We've got a location on the car,” Sean told Dylan as they drove out of town.
“Where we headed?”
“Motel outside of Aylesford.”
“There's no way they'll be there,” Dylan predicted with a shake of his head. “She ditched the car and either had another waitin' or stole one from the lot.”
Sean tapped his thumbs on the wheel. “I can't believe it'd be this easy either.”
“Drive on anyway. Maybe we'll find a trail to follow.”
Sean did just that, arriving at Night and Daze Motel before three. A quick scan of the lot revealed Priscilla's cherry red convertible Mercedes in all its glory. The two made an