“What do you mean, not everyone has a good reaction?!” I've managed to sit halfway up now. I jerk against the binds around my wrists. I want to slap her.
With another shrug and not a glance my way, Priscilla saunters out of the room. “Cross,” I call.
He moans. “Cross, wake up! Please!”
But he doesn't move or say another word. Why did I take him with me to Hunter's house? He said he wanted to see the outside world, and I didn't think it would take longer than an hour. I try not to feel too guilty, though. That was my first chance to have sex. So what if I took it? It's not my fault a crazy guy kidnapped us.
I push my breath out. Suck in another one.
It's okay. At least I won’t die a virgin.
I laugh out loud. Only for a second, but it’s enough to draw Lockwood’s attention. He saunters back sans hat, giving me a full view of his rotten, shit-eating grin.
I glare at him. “What's happening in an hour?”
“The buyers are coming.”
“To get me and Cross?”
He shrugs. “Maybe just you. Depends on if they want a guy.”
“And if they don't?”
“Maybe I'll cook him and eat him.” I can feel the blood drain from my face. Lockwood bursts out laughing. It's jerky and gaspy, and makes him sound kind of like a choking bird. “Naw. Naw. That's not the plan.”
“You tried to kill him, didn't you? That's why you didn't tie his hands.” Horror washes through me as I realize this makes sense.
He nods. “Nothing personal. But he knows things he shouldn’t.”
“How do you know he knows?” I challenge.
“His father told Priscilla. She don't keep secrets for anybody.”
Of course. Freakin' Priscilla. Oh my God, I want to slap that bitch.
From somewhere behind me, I hear a clock ticking. I guess it's mounted on the wall. “How much longer?” I ask Lockwood. It's kind of ridiculous to ask, but I figure why not.
His gaze drifts over my head. “Looks like about thirty-seven minutes, seniorita.”
I shut my eyes, and a minute later, I hear a rustling in the cooler, followed by his footsteps and the closing of the door.
Holy cow. This is really about to happen. I'm really getting sold! Not my V-card; me. I strain my abs and get myself half-sitting. I pull against the binds so hard my wrists sport blood-red lines. I've got to do something!
As I work my wrists against the rope, the ticking of the clock threatens to drive me crazy.
Try as I might, I just can't undo the freakin’ knot! It's complicated and tight.
I wiggle my ankles. Nothing.
I'm lying there, praying and trying to regulate my breathing, when I hear a moan. My eyes flip open. “Cross!”
He sits up, looking dazed, and I think I might pass out from glee.
“Cross,” I hiss, trying harder to be quiet. “Come untie me!”
He blinks at me, and my heart sinks as I realize he's not really seeing me.
“Cross,” I whisper. “It's me—Lizzy! I need your help!”
He blinks, the slack look on his face never changing as he rolls his shoulder. Squinting, he looks slowly around the room. “I feel...stiff.” His voice is croaky. His eyes wander over the ceiling and the walls, and then finally to me. They widen. “Lizzy?” He flinches as he notices my binds, and I can see some of the stupor fading. “What the hell is going on?”
“You don't remember?”
He frowns. “I fell asleep, waiting for you.” He looks around the room again, but I hiss. “Cross! Come and untie me! I'll explain later, but you have to untie your feet and then help me!”
He swallows as he blinks down at his feet. He leans over, placing one palm on his ankle, and I urge him, “C'mon! You've gotta move fast!”
“Okay.” He gives me a concerned look while his fingers grapple with the rope. “Damn,” he mutters, “I'm thirsty.”
“I'm so sorry, Cross. But Priscilla Heat and Jim Gunn have us!”
His eyes bug out. “Holy f**k.” He grits his teeth and goes harder at the ropes on his ankles. “Where are we?” he asks while he works.
“Mexico.”
“Are we getting sold or something? Because that would be unbelievable.”
I nod. “I really think we are. Except you...” I'm about to speculate on why they didn't feel a need to tie Cross's hands when the door opens again, and a tall Mexican man walks in.
Chapter Forty-One
~ELIZABETH~
He's wearing all black, from his boots to the fedora-like hat on his head. He has light brown skin and Spanish features. Once I see the dead look in his eyes, all I know is that he's not here to help us. In fact, he's probably here to buy us. Shit.
His assessing gaze flicks over me, then over Cross, who I quickly realize has managed to slump over on his side. Did he do that in time to fool the buyer? I'm not sure, because I wasn't watching him. I watch the buyer's face; he's looking down his thin nose at Cross. I don't think he's spared a look for me yet.
He steps closer to Cross, poking his bicep with the tip of his black leather boot.
Then he turns toward the door, flicks his fingers in a come hither motion, and two other men walk in. Neither is as tall as the buyer, and it's clear they're working for him, rather than the other way around. They're wearing black like he is, but they don't look as clean or well-groomed, and where he points, they scurry.
I tense, terrified because I expect them to skip right over Cross and come to me, but instead they each grab one of Cross's shoulders, and they roll him over. He's so limp I wonder if he actually passed out. One of them starts to unbutton his blue jeans, and I shriek.
The buyer's gaze snaps to me. “You can't do that!”
“You be quiet,” he hisses. His accent makes his voice sound like a snake.
“He's not for sale.”
“What about you?” He steps closer to me, taking my face in his hand and running his finger over my cheek. “Are you for sale?” he asks me. “We get many requests for feisty girls.” His gaze flicks between my legs. “They told me you are barely used.”
I blink up at him, feeling like I might be sick.
He releases my face and chuckles. “She is just a baby.”
Abruptly he's leaving my bed and walking toward the door. I glance over at Cross, and I'm relieved to find his jeans still zipped.
The buyer struts toward the door. He pulls something out of his back pocket, and as he reaches the doorway, two men lean in to hear what he has to say. I gasp as I see they're both holding machine guns.