The Real Villain

WE'RE ALREADY ON THE move when I decide to come clean, but my former hostage proves unappreciative of the truth.

"You threatened a man twice your size with a fake gun."

His tone is calm as ever, but it's the glint in his eyes that has my stomach flipping. Why am I suddenly convinced that he's the type of man who can commit murder without ever raising his voice?

"I just wanted to scare people if I have to. I didn't want to...actually kill anyone?" My voice ends up at a squeaky note, and his judgy violet eyes are completely to blame. Why is he making me feel guilty for being against violence?

"I see."

Oh, phew.

I'm glad he totally gets it.

"Your genius idea for preventing bloodshed was by arming yourself with a toy gun—-"

Or not.

"—-while up against the type of man who sees nothing wrong in potentially harming your dog."

"I don't think Migs—-"

His jaw noticeably clenches, and I stop speaking.

"Why do you call him that?"

"Because it's his name?"

"You already know his real name."

"I..." Don't understand why we're arguing about Migs' name?

"Call him Culo, " he bites out. "It's safer."

"Is he that well known around here?"

"In certain circles, yes."

And since I have a feeling those circles include the guys in Bucks and the like...

"Culo," I repeat obediently. "Got it."

"How did you even get mixed up with him?"

"He used to date my roommate."

"And that's why he abducted your dog?"

I squirm in my seat. "He says I led him on."

"Did you?"

"Of course not!" I can't help glaring at having to answer such a question. "He's my roommate's boyfriend —-"

"Then why would he think you were leading him on?"

"He says it was because I was nice to him—-"

His lips tighten anew, and I'm starting to feel judged.

"You were nice to him."

"I'm nice to everyone!"

"And yet you didn't hesitate to point a gun at me—-"

"You made me panic, okay? You really weren't supposed to notice I had one. All I wanted was a ride to Bucks—-"

"But a sleazeball like Culo never made you panic?"

"Look, I don't know what you want me to say. When I first met Culo, he was okay—-"

"I see."

Why is he clenching his teeth like that? Maybe he thinks I really am an idiot for not sensing anything off about Culo—-

"We're here."

His abrupt tone cuts into my thoughts, and I look outside the window as he switches off the engine. A faint glow on top of the hill draws my attention, and if I squint hard enough, I can barely make the outline of a fancy-looking cottage behind equally fancy-looking gates.

"Is that his place?"

"No. But a close friend of his owns it."

My conscience stirs at his words. "I don't think it's right to get others involved."

"Even if this friend was with Culo when he sold the collar to Bucks—-"

"What if that's just a coincidence?"

"—-and this same friend was overheard saying he's thinking of having dog meat to celebrate the New Year?"

I don't even have the strength to tell him he's right, he's won, and we're definitely going to burn that place down since its owner is going to Hell.

"Elizabeth?"

Bile rises to my throat.

Dog meat, my God.

It doesn't matter if the other guy was joking or not.

Dog meat!

He's clearly without a soul to even think this could be remotely funny—-

"It's going to be alright."

The calmness of his tone penetrates the veil of my anger and fears, but it's the heat of his touch as he covers my hand that draws me out of the chaos devouring my mind.

"We'll get him back. Alive. And unharmed."

I want to believe him.

So, so badly.

But how can I do so when I finally remember what he's called me?

"I never told you my name."

Please, please, please say something that will make me trust you.

But the question only makes him loosen his hold.

Oh God.

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice."

Help me.

I'm out of the car in a flash once more.

Please.

But this time, I'm running for my life.