Redesigning Fate (Revive #1) - A. M. Wilson Page 0,98
his. “I’m about to leave and get an earful from Sin. I do not need you throwing around your attitude before you give me a chance to explain.”
Wrenching my head away, I cross my arms over my chest expectantly. “So explain. But let me tell you something. When you tell somebody you love them, it’s probably a bad idea to go see your other girls the next goddamned day.”
“Fuck!” he roars, and the sudden anger spikes my pulse. I’ve never seen him angry before, and I don’t think I ever want to see it again. “Do not throw my love back in my face. I do love you, and whatever you heard me say isn’t what you think.” He turns around, slaps his gray beanie onto his head, and grabs his keys.
“I don’t have time to explain right now because there’s a bad situation I need to take care of. After this is finished, I’m getting Shelby and Sin, and we’re filling you in. It kills me to have to leave you without answers again, but I promise you’ll know everything when I get back.” Like a switch, his anger melts, and tenderness and concern replace it. “Believe me, Marlee. It hurts to leave you like this. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Before I can form a retort, he’s gone.
Forget this. If he thinks I’m going to sit around and wait for him to get back, he’s going to have quite the surprise. I’m going to hide out at Carly’s until he’s finished. She can calm me down; at the same time, I’ll be letting him fret over my disappearance. After seeing the look on his face and his promise to explain finally, I know deep down I should trust him. Though, a part of me wants to know why it takes me getting upset for him to be ready to spill the truth. What is it about his job that he needs to be so secretive? And why does Shelby know? Is the situation Sin saved her from somehow connected?
The longer I stay here, the more questions I have. The best thing for me to do is to drive to Carly’s and wait it out. I’ll find out if I’ll finally get answers once Elias returns.
As I walk down the hall to leave, I mentally kick myself, remembering we left my car in the parking garage last night. I hate that stupid place. Instead of taking the creepy claustrophobic stairway, I opt for the elevator and take a right down the hall.
The parking garage is dark and empty when the elevator doors finally open. Surveying the area before stepping into the open, I reach in my purse to dig out my keys. As I grasp my key ring, I walk briskly towards my car.
Less than 10 feet away, I hear the distinct tap of footsteps behind me. To avoid risking a glance over my shoulder, I push the key fob and unlock my car. As much as I try to remain calm, I can’t help but break out in a sprint toward my driver’s side door, stretching my arms out those last few inches.
The feet pound on the concrete behind me and my fingers fumble with the side of my car as I grab blindly for the handle. When I finally wrench open the door, my most crucial mistake is taking the next second to look over my shoulder. A black cloth obscures his face, a rag in one hand and a gun in the other. The hand with the cloth slams my door shut before wrapping around my mouth and nose, strangling off any breath I may have taken in order to scream.
My lungs are stuttering, burning, failing to expand as I scratch and pull against the hand clamped tightly to my face. I can’t breathe; I can’t scream. My head becomes light and dizzy, and the last image I see is a pair of piercing, malicious green eyes gazing hard back at me.
“Goodnight,” he whispers.
The floor rattles beneath my cheek when I swim back into consciousness. I try to open my eyes, but it’s impossible. All I can see is black. My head hurts and a dizzy fog holds me captive. I struggle to move, but my hands and feet are bound with…something. An unwelcome pang of fear drives deeply into my gut and desperately I pull against the restraints, the materials cutting into my flesh.
I try again to open my eyes, not understanding why