Chapter Eight
Mia
I can’t sleep. Vince has no problem falling asleep, but I remain shackled to his side, thinking and crying and getting not a single wink of sleep.
I’m so used to sleeping beside Mateo, I also constantly think I’m going to wake him up. Mateo wakes up if you breathe too hard in his direction; Vince does not.
I have an idea, but it makes my stomach hurt to imagine trying. The way he has our arms locked together at the wrist, I don’t think I can move without waking him up, but I can see the keys on the desk beside the bed. I’d have to literally climb over him without moving his wrist, without waking him up, to get the keys. If I could get the handcuff off me, then grab his car keys and slip out, I could drive off and leave him here. I could call for help. I could call Mateo.
And I fucking will. I don’t want Vince to die, but I’m not about to let him take me off to God knows where to keep him alive, either. He should’ve known better than this. This was incredibly stupid. He had to know he couldn’t just grab me right out from under Mateo’s nose and whisk me away. It’s going to be hard enough to manage Mateo’s temper after I tell him Vince kissed me, but I need to get home before he’s able to do more than that.
It takes a long time to convince myself to do it. I’m certain I’m going to get caught. I’m not gutsy enough for this. I wish he would’ve kidnapped Meg instead—she would’ve already retrieved the key, let herself out, and driven away—with the cupcakes.
I’ve gotta get it together.
It takes forever to get up on my knees. I’m trying so hard not to move the bed, cringing every time it so much as creaks.
I miss Mateo.
Not evil Mateo, the one I’m likely to encounter next, but Bahamas Mateo. I wish we were back at that hotel. I wish more than anything he was the man lying in this bed beside me.
Maybe I can get the keys, escape with Vince’s car, and not have to deal with this. That seems unlikely. Even if I get away now, Mateo’s going to demand to know what happened. I’ll have to tell him, because if Vince came back after four years, that means he might come back again.
I can’t believe him.
Mateo let him out. He was free. I can’t believe he did this shit.
He’s still asleep and I’m balancing on my knees, so now all I have to do is reach over his body and grab the key. Of course he couldn’t leave it right on the edge, where I could easily accomplish this. Of course I have to try to keep my handcuffed wrist still and stretch across the bed until I’m ready to tip over.
My finger touches the cool metal key and relief moves through me. Holy shit. I’m almost there. I’ve almost got it. I use my finger to pull it closer. I have it! I have the key.
I’m shaking, but I have the key. I ease back onto my side of the bed, inserting the key into the lock as quietly as I can.
And then Vince’s free hand flies over and grabs my wrist.
I gasp, stomach sinking, and he glares at me.
“Really, Mia?”
“I—I just had to pee,” I say, even though it’s clearly a lie.
He climbs up on his knees and shoves me down on the bed, my wrists at my side, pinning me down and continuing to glare at me. “Had to pee, huh?”
I nod vigorously. “I didn’t want to wake you up. I was going to get back in bed. I don’t even know where we are—I wouldn’t know how to get home.”
“I’m going to start punishing you for lying,” he tells me. “I hate it when you lie. It pisses me off. I’m going to break you of that dirty fucking habit.”
“It’s not a habit,” I mutter.
“Then stop fucking doing it. I’ll warn you this time, but this is the only warning you get, Mia. Next time you lie to me, I punish you for it.”
“I hate this,” I tell him, wanting to lash out. “I hate you.”
He cocks his head sarcastically and makes me wanna punch him in the jaw. “Huh, and just last night you were happy to see me.”
I shake my head in denial. “No, not you. Not this you. Not asshole Vince. Last night I was happy to see a Vince who apparently doesn’t exist anymore. The Vince who actually cared about me—not the Vince who drugs me and takes things from me and rips me away from everyone I love. I want nothing to do with this Vince.”
“Well, that’s too damn bed,” he tells me, like it makes no difference. Ripping the key from my fingers, he shoves it in his pocket and reaches across the desk to grab his phone from the charger at the other end. He mutters a curse when he sees the time. “I guess I’m not getting any fucking sleep.”
“You can go back to sleep,” I tell him.
“If I go back to sleep and wake up to you fishing around my pants, I’m going to assume you’re looking for my cock, and I’m going to fucking give it to you. Understand?”
My heart sinks and I glare at him wordlessly as he climbs off me and moves back into the spot beside me.
He goes back to sleep anyway.
I’m so incredibly tempted to try for the key, but now I’m afraid to. I saw him shove it in his pocket, so the key’s even closer to me than it was before, but I don’t think I can fish it out of his pocket without waking him up. I don’t especially feel like getting raped right now, so maybe that’s not a great idea.
Instead I alternate between glaring at the ceiling and crying until I, too, fall asleep.
---
It’s dark when Vince wakes me up.
He’s already up and out of bed. He’s filled two plastic cups from the bathroom with water and he’s sitting on the other side of the bed with the cupcake box open.
“It’s time to hit the road,” he tells me. “I slept a lot longer than I meant to.”
I’m still sluggish. I don’t know if it’s from him drugging me, the crying, the exhaustion from what he’s putting me through, or just lack of enough sleep.
I haven’t eaten in a long time, either. I guess it could be that.
Now we each have a cupcake and split the third—an Oreo cupcake.
“This still Cherie’s favorite?” he asks, almost off-handedly.
“I don’t know,” I mutter. “Cherie hates me now.”
He nods, like he’s not too surprised. “That makes sense. You did start fucking Satan.”
“And when it seemed like he’d murdered you,” I point out. “She’s lucky to be alive, actually. Cherie triggered a nervous breakdown that nearly made me lose my mind. Mateo wanted to kill her.”
This does surprise him. “You had a nervous breakdown over me?”
“Not over you,” I correct, pulling a piece of cupcake off and sticking it in my mouth. “Over my own sense of guilt.”
He nods like that makes more sense. “So, you started fucking him again right away, huh? Did you at least make him take it from you the first few times, or did you just open your legs for him with my blood still on his hands?”
“Don’t be gross,” I admonish. “You have no idea what I went through when all that happened.”
“Well, I know you ended up on a beach in the Bahamas with him, so it doesn’t seem like you suffered too much.”
I scowl at him. “It’s been four years and you weren’t actually dead. How long am I supposed to suffer, Vince? And how did you know he took me to the Bahamas?”
He pops a piece of cupcake in his mouth. “You told me last night. You don’t remember?”
“No, Vince, I don’t remember. You drugged me. I don’t remember much of anything.”
He smirks at me, like it’s amusing to have that over me. “Huh. Bet that’s a little scary, isn’t it?”
I roll my eyes, ignoring him and finishing my half of the Oreo cupcake. When I first saw him, the good memories were all that remained. After he “died” I steeped myself in them, remembering the times I’d failed him, glorifying his memory. Even once I found out he was alive, those feelings didn’t dissipate. I cared more for Vince after he was gone than I had when he was sitting right beside me. But that’s because he was only a memory, and I could block out shit like this. I could block out any of the unkindness and remember him making goofy faces at me when we went out to eat. I could block out the faint aura that hangs around him of a bomb just waiting to go off. Instead of recalling him telling me he’d burn Mateo’s house down if I left him, I remembered him buying me groceries when I was poor and embarrassed at my local grocery store.
My brain has a very inconvenient way of doing that, I’ve realized.
I did the same thing with Mateo. Obviously that worked out with him, and it would’ve been harmless if I never saw Vince again, but now I’m disappointed. He should’ve stayed a memory. I could’ve kept loving his memory. Now I have to deal with his reckless reality.
One thing’s for sure. When I get back in Mateo’s strong arms, however the hell I get there, I’m not holding this Vince crap against him anymore. If I would’ve let him deal with this shit his way, I would be at home getting ready to pick Bella up from school tomorrow, ready to get my Meg on and make nice with some mean little brat’s concerned mom. Instead I have to take an involuntary road trip with my psycho ex-boyfriend.
I miss my family.
I miss Mateo.
I want to go home.
---
“I have to pee.”
“I told you to pee when I got gas,” he replies.
“I didn’t need to then. Now I do.”
My legs are also stiff, my butt hurts, and I just want to get out of this damn car. He handcuffed me to the door again, and I’m pretty sure it was just to annoy me this time.
Now he mutters and complains about what a pain in the ass I am, but a few minutes later he pulls off the freeway and takes me to a gas station. The bathroom is inside and he doesn’t trust me to go alone, so Vince walks me in and waits outside for me to pee.
He doesn’t let me bring my purse. I look at the mirror, contemplating how I wish he would’ve. I have a lipstick in there. I could’ve written a note for the next person to come inside.
It seems like Vince thinks of that, though. Even though he didn’t let me bring anything in the bathroom, he peeks in to make sure I didn’t try to leave any kind of breadcrumb before he grabs my hand and hauls me back through the gas station so we can return to the cursed car.
“I’m hungry,” I tell him, trying to tug my wrist free.
“You have a lot of needs,” he says, like this is inconvenient.
“Couldn’t we stop and get some actual food? I’m still sluggish and I don’t know if it’s from lack of food or you drugging me.”
“Want to say that a little louder?” he asks, casting a look of displeasure my way.
“I would, actually,” I tell him. “Why do you even want to take me with you? You’re clearly annoyed at me. Like, all the time. I’m obviously not bringing you any joy. It’s okay to call this a loss. You tried; it didn’t work out. Admirable effort. Why don’t you just leave me here and go back to wherever you call home these days? I’ll call Mateo and have him pick me up. If you give me up on your own, I can convince him not to kill you.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’d love trying to convince him,” he says sourly.
“I would,” I tell him, with relish. “He’d make me worship his big cock—”
I’m about to get meaner, but Vince’s grip on my wrist tightens and he swings around, backing me into a display of boxed doughnuts.
Some random chick in the aisle looks up, so he backs off, but he still looks like he wants to kill me. His jaw is locked. He pulls me a little harder than necessary toward the door and leads me back out to the car. He fastens the cuffs around my wrists once I’m inside. I give him a good glare. He doesn’t care.
“Just let me go,” I say, one more time.
He smirks, shaking his head, and slams the door in my face.