my milky skin. Bruises that I thought had long healed crawled up my arms, cuts dripping with fresh blood. Why is this familiar... but off?
Holding the back of my head, Drezden bit down on my jaw. The roots of my hair tugged, sending sparks to my cells. I was acutely aware of everything and anything.
My tattoo itched. In the flickering lights of the bathroom, the dark castle was a forest of living snakes and green eyes. “What's going on?” I asked, but my voice was too quiet.
No one could hear me.
Holding me still, Drezden peered into my face. His teeth were fangs, lips searing and melting me where he touched. In my ear, he murmured so gently.
“Look out.”
The man I loved shoved me backwards. I went tumbling down into the tub.
I never landed.
As I looked up, his face morphed. Green eyes—but not my green eyes.
Johnny Muse.
I felt only pain. My eyes were heavy, hesitant to open. The edges of my vision stabbed like serrated knives, cutting into my temples, my brain. What happened? Thinking brought more deep aches, hiding my memory from me.
I realized I was sitting. Gingerly I shifted in place, craning my head carefully to study the low-lit room that hadn't seen a clean sponge in forever. Cracked walls, patchy floors, a bed that was piled with wrinkled blankets.
I didn't know this place at all.
Wriggling my wrists, I tugged hard—then harder. They were tied behind me. One movement was too much; my right shoulder screamed in sharp distress. My natural reaction was to gasp, something in my mouth stunted the cry.
“Oh,” a voice said beside me. “You're awake.”
Wide-eyed, I came awake as if my feet had been put in a fire. Johnny stood next to me, twitching, pacing as he looked on. The scabs across his face blazed, a shiny bruise splashing on the side of his cheek.
All at once, I remembered the fight in my hotel room.
Oh shit.
My belly rippled, adrenaline shooting through my limbs. Reluctantly, the blackness lifted from my mind. After I'd passed out, I'd flitted in and out of consciousness. Parts of that returned to me—the bits where I was jostled in Johnny's arms, half-dragged, my hood pulled low over my face.
Someone had asked if I was alright, but I'd been too groggy to speak. Johnny had answered quickly, something about me drinking too much because I was excited for all the bands in town.
In the bustle of the busy hotel lobby, no one had realized I was Lola Cooper.
That I was being kidnapped in plain sight.
No one knows what happened to me. The revelation turned my blood cold.
My captor bent close, smelling entirely too much of whiskey. “You okay in there? Comfortable?” Biting onto the rag in my mouth, I made a muffled sound of anger. Johnny blinked, standing straight. “Look, you were the one that went nuts last night.”
Last night? How long had I been unconscious for?
A vibration rumbled loudly to my left, paralyzing me with new fear. From where I sat, I saw the shiny device and knew it was my phone. Someone was trying to call me! That brought a new, sickening thought with it. If he took my phone, that means he touched me... searched me.
Had he done anything else while I was so vulnerable?
He said flatly, “I didn't have any choice but to do this.”
My attention jumped up to his stubble covered jaw. Johnny's eyes were bloodshot, his lip ticking occasionally. I was in the hands of a madman. Rocking in my bonds, I tested everything. What had he tied on my wrists? It felt sticky, like old candy.
He took a swig from a bottle he'd left beside my phone. “You were out so long, I wondered if you had a concussion.”
And he didn't take me to a hospital? A tremble went down my knees. Fuck fuck fuck. Johnny wasn't concerned for my health. If something went wrong under his control...
I could die here.
His palm touched my forehead, unnerving me. “You look pale.” Scrutinizing me for a long moment, he hummed. “I'm really sorry if you don't feel well. Seriously, none of this—I didn't plan to do this.”
No, I didn't think it was planned. The way he'd followed me, then freaked out in my room, had all been too spontaneous. I haven't been captured by some vaudevillian character. Just a crazy, unhinged, selfish prick.
Wonderful.
Coughing against my gag, I moaned. Johnny pulled away, his lips pinched. “What is it? That too tight?”
Freezing my muscles, I considered his question. If