Toxic - Zoe Blake Page 0,26

would uncoil this knot of dread that had tightened in my stomach.

Playing with the cheap frayed end of the scarf, I tried to let the hum of conversation about me soothe my nerves.

I would call Richard from the Embassy and let him know I was okay and that I just needed time away to think.

Yes.

That’s what I would do. Everything would be fine.

Looking down at my purse, I remembered the bloody feather that was still tucked inside.

What was I thinking?

This wasn’t some lover’s quarrel or a misunderstanding. This wasn’t me needing space. This was Richard plotting to kill me. I had heard it with my own ears.

Fuck. I couldn’t even think straight.

What really upset me was that, in this moment, I wanted Richard.

I wanted Richard to hold me and tell me it would be okay.

I wanted him to promise that he’d take care of everything.

I wanted him to step in and take control.

I wanted his strength and the feel of his arms around me.

Damn him!

It took me a moment to realize the train car had fallen silent.

All the bustle and conversation about me had stopped. It suddenly felt tense and unnaturally quiet. Leaning up in my seat, I hazarded a peek over the top of the seat in front of me.

Oh. My. God.

Richard.

It was as if by wanting him here I had conjured the devil himself to appear.

There he was standing at the end of the car, surveying the passengers, who seemed to know instinctively that they were in the presence of someone powerful.

“Everyone out.”

He hadn’t yelled, in fact he had barely raised his voice.

He had no authority over these strangers. Some of them probably didn’t even know who he was. And yet, en masse, they rose and exited the car. Just by his mere presence, Richard was a man who demanded to be obeyed.

As they quickly filed out, Richard stood there, clenching his hands and cracking his knuckles as if he was keeping himself from punching something.

I knew better than to try to sneak out with the rest of the passengers. Besides, if I knew Richard, there would now be guards posted at either entrance just like the time he came to my apartment.

In less than a few minutes the car was empty, except for the two of us.

I waited. Shoulders hunched as I crouched low in my seat.

The silence stretched.

I wanted to scream.

The sudden shrill beep of the train doors closing caused me to start and clasp a hand over my mouth.

There was a high-pitched whistle, then the hiss of the engines. Slowly the train shifted forward. With every turn of its wheels, it gained more momentum. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the platform of St. Pancras give way to the cold, black darkness of outside. The silent train car felt isolated from everything and everyone in the world.

Finally, he spoke. “You’ve been a very bad girl.”

Oh. My. God.

Chapter 11

Lizzie

Keeping my gaze averted, I could hear the ominous scrape of his shoes against the rubber aisle mat as he made his way toward me.

One step.

Two.

Three.

Closer and closer.

Then silence.

My chest seized as I held my breath, afraid to look up.

Strong fingers wrapped around my upper arm, dragging me from my seat.

“No! Stop!”

Richard clasped his hands just below my shoulders and yelled, “Look at me, Elizabeth.”

Craning my neck, I turned my head to the far right, refusing to look up.

“I said look at me,” ground out Richard through his teeth as he gave my whole body a vicious shake.

With a cry, I looked up, and was shocked to my core when I saw fear and worry instead of rage.

“Do you have any idea? Any idea at all of what I have been through this past hour? How worried I was? I nearly tore this city apart trying to find you.”

My mouth dropped open. I had no response. This was not the Richard I was expecting.

Driving his fingers into my hair at the nape of my neck, he pulled me in close. Wrapping his arms tightly around me, he pressed my face to his heart. “Don’t you ever fucking leave my side again. Do you understand me? Ever.”

None of this made sense. He wanted to kill me. I had heard him tell Harris so.

Game over.

That is what he’d said, game over.

Pushing away, I took a few steps back. “No. This is just another one of your games, like the dead bird. You’re just trying to mess with my head.”

His brow creased. “You know about the dead bird?”

I