I jumped in the car and shut the door, tossing my purse and cell on the passenger seat, then leaned my forehead against the steering wheel as I tried to get back some of the calm that had been smothered by that man’s haunting image.
I was good at figuring things out, connecting puzzle pieces, but none of this made sense. How could my dad be working on something for years and never say anything? Why would he work with a man like Kai?
I stiffened and froze as the hairs on the back of my neck rose like little warning soldiers and my heart skipped a beat.
Oh, God.
That scent. It was in my car. Him.
I slowly inched my hand toward the door handle.
“Not a smart idea,” he drawled. “And I know you’re a smart girl, London.”
I jerked into action, diving for the handle with both hands, but his knife was under my chin before it unlatched. The emerging scream locked in my throat as I stilled, breathing harsh, chest rising and falling rapidly as I waited for the slice of the blade across my jugular.
“Start the car and drive nice and easy out of the parking lot.”
The knife left my throat and I glanced in the rear-view mirror as he leaned back against the seat looking as if he were going for a ride to the grocery store. He didn’t appear angry, merely annoyed at this inconvenience with his lowered brows and lips lightly pressed together.
I started the car and let it idle for a second as my brain calculated my options.
“Seatbelt, my dear,” he said.
‘Never let them take you to a second location’ kept repeating in my head.
I reached over my shoulder and pulled the strap across my body. I pretended to fumble with the clip and tilted my head slightly to see if he was watching me. The bastard was texting. Texting. As if he were making dinner arrangements or chatting with a friend about the ball game.
I let the belt go and it hadn’t even snapped back in place before I had my door open and one foot out of the car. He was halfway over the seat when his arm hooked my neck.
His grip wasn’t strangling, but it was firm and I was forced back in the car. His icy words bit into me as he whispered in my ear. “You want your father to live?”
I swallowed and nodded.
He slid the flat side of his knife over my chin. “Good. So do I.”
I swallowed and the pressure of the knife increased as he caressed my throat with it. I’d seen how easily it sliced my purse strap. I knew with little effort he’d cut open my delicate skin.
He released me and the seat leather creaked as he sat back again. “Shut the door and let’s go for a drive.”
“What do you want?”
“Oh, there will be plenty of time for questions, London.”
The way his accented voice dragged out my name it was as if I’d heard him say it before. But it wasn’t my name; he’d called me something else. But that was impossible; I’d never met this guy before and he wasn’t someone you’d easily forget.
“Where’s my dad?” Had he hurt him? Maybe that was why he didn’t come back to the lab. My grip on the steering wheel tightened as did the ache in my chest at the thought.
“I suspect on his way home to pour himself a drink.”
“My dad doesn’t drink,” I blurted. He hadn’t touched alcohol since my mother died. I think it was because he felt responsible somehow for her death, although he wasn’t. My mother was a heavy drinker and a careless smoker. According to the fire department, the carelessness killed her. But my dad took responsibility on his shoulders for everything.
I glanced in the rearview mirror and he met my eyes like he’d been waiting for me to look at him. The corners of his mouth curved up. “An intelligent man. But I already knew that.” He leaned closer so his elbows rested on the back of my seat, lips inches from my ear as he whispered, “Drive, my brave little scientist.”
How did he know I was a scientist? Or rather, studying to be one.
I slipped the gearshift into drive and slowly pulled out of the parking lot. The automatic gate arm lifted to let us pass and I wished there were old school security guards instead of the transponder on my dashboard.
So many thoughts whirled in my head. I could steer us into a tree and hopefully escape. That was if I didn’t kill myself. Or if I went over the speed limit, maybe we’d pass a cop and get pulled over. Or I could….
“You’re beautiful.” His deep voice caused me to jump and the car lurched forward. “But when you’re contemplating escape, it’s rather… adorable.”
Adorable? I didn’t even think that word was in his vocabulary. “What do you want with my father?”
“Aren’t you concerned about what I want with you?”
“No.” I was, but he was so arrogant that I had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of knowing I was completely terrified of that exact thing.
I caught his reflection in the mirror and he grinned. For a brief second, a flicker of relief warmed me because his grin was mesmerizing. Not evil or malicious, it simply made him look engaging. And that was why he was even more dangerous—because it was deceiving.
“And you heard enough to know what I want. You’re clever, London. Maybe even too clever for your own good. And, I understand, about to graduate with full honors in pharmacology and toxicology. Impressive. Following in your father’s footsteps. I’d advise not to follow too far.”
Whatever the hell that meant.
I glanced at my speedometer, slowly pressing on the gas and now going twenty over the speed limit. I needed to keep him talking so he didn’t notice how fast we were going. “I’m going to be late for class.”