He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “The kid’s not my problem. You’re my problem. And you’re my prisoner. She’s just my guest.”
“Can I—”
“No.” He slides off the bed and turns to stare at me. He’s all business again. Any trace of kindness gone like it never existed tobegin with. “Now, Clara Everett, here’s the big question: are you going to do exactly what I say, when I say it, no questionsasked?”
The terrifying part is not knowing what he plans on asking me. It could be anything.
No, scratch that. The really terrifying part is knowing what he could ask of me.
And the fact that I’d want to do it for him.
Especially if he keeps looking at me like that.
“Yes.” I nod with the word, just in case it sticks to my tongue. “Anything. I’ll do anything—just keep my daughter safe.” Out ofsome dee
