Page 34 of Forbidden Eyes
“It’s handled.” Handled? I was kidnapped. What about the drugs? I don’t know what to do with any of that information or my own feelings on the matter. I look down at myself, trying to cover the blood on my chest or wipe it away somehow.
“Does my father know? It was his deal, people he worked with.”
“Yes, it was his deal. No, he doesn’t know about this. Yet. Maybe not at all.”
I nod, even though he’s not looking my way. “So, Cane is involved, and you do whatever my uncle tells you.”
“I do whatever I see fit to run Cane business as I’m expected to.”
“And that includes killing people in cold blood?”
A small sneer touches his stony gaze, but his eyes still remain on the road. “Would you have preferred for me to leave you with Chelico and his men? I guess I could have let him have his fun and pass you around, shove a gun in your face and rape you before ransoming you to your father.”
His words put me right back in that room and the fear that ran through me.
I thought I was frightened when Carter was with me. It paled in comparison to when I was alone. All I had then was fear and the overwhelming hope that Carter would come for me. “No, of course not. Don’t you dare…”
“Don’t even let those fucking words out of your mouth,” he snaps, silencing me. “You opened your goddamned mouth and gave away a vital piece of information. Information that made you more valuable than all the drugs in that place. I gave you a simple fucking instruction, and you failed to follow it. Because of that, they saw you as a target and took you.”
I slam my fist down on the dash in my outrage, rightly or wrongly. “You took me to my father’s fucking drug deal, Carter.” How dare he put all those deaths on me?
The air stills after my outburst, and tension crackles between us. There’s so much that needs to be said, more I want to ask, but I don’t know where to start, so I stick with an easy one. “Where are we going?”
He doesn’t answer that question either.
“Are you going to ignore me now?” Still no response, just the same stern look out the windshield and the tense grip on the wheel.
We continue to drive, but the quiet country lanes have slowly morphed into more residential areas. I stare at it all, unsure if I should carry on asking questions, make him stop the car so I can get out and scream, or chastise myself for the fact that all of this happened because of me and my mouth.
“Where are we going?” I mumble, still hoping for a response.
“We’ll be heading back soon. Then you’re going back on a flight to Chicago where you'll talk to Quinn after I've sorted this fuckup out. And he'll send you back to your family in one piece.”
“No. I’m not going back without you. Who said you get to make all the decisions, anyway?” The thought of facing my father so soon both infuriates and terrifies me. There’s no way I’m going back to him. Not yet.
“Your uncle did when he put you in my charge. A simple babysitting job, and within one day you’ve caused more trouble than Logan ever has.” My eyes widen, anger fuelling my blood again.
“How dare you? You don’t get to talk to me like that.”
“At the moment, I get to talk however the hell I like. You’re my responsibility. My problem.”
“Problem?”
“Yes, a fucking problem, Sofia. Do you think what happened back there is just going to go away? The cascade from this shit is fucking endless.”
“No, but…”
“How about a fucking thank you for killing those dicks and saving you, and then you can shut your goddamn mouth for ten minutes so I can think.”
His comment slices down my anger, and the world of life and death I’m suddenly neck-deep in returns to my mind. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think and—”
“That’s the trouble. You didn’t think. You're clearly nothing like your father at all.” Carter jerks the car left, and we pull into a roadside diner. There are only a few cars in the parking lot, and as I look around, I see nothing on the street but barren wasteland.
“Why are we here?” I ask, confused as to why we’re at some greasy burger place.
A long breath blows out of his mouth, his fingers finally loosening their grip on the wheel.
“Because I need something to eat, and I don’t want to be trapped in a car with you any longer. Besides, I said I’d patch you up. There’s a first aid kit in the back.” He gets out and slams the door, silencing my retort.