danger. Please, please don't do this. Please let me call the FBI."
Nothing from Adam. Not a denial, not a request for more information. Nothing. The words I'd spoken echoed back in my head, and I realized the truth of what I said. William Harper had sent Adam after me, and that meant he knew what I’d been doing. If he wanted me in his custody, I was in big trouble. Seriously big trouble.
Adam had grabbed my laptop off the coffee table before he'd hustled me out of my apartment, which meant Harper wanted the evidence I’d been collecting. He probably thought he was getting it before I’d given it to the FBI. Which was true, in a sense. Except that Summer also had a copy. Or she would when she picked up her mail in a few days. Thank God I'd never mentioned her to Adam.
He picked up his phone and made a call. His words were cryptic; I’m bringing her to you, I’ve got everything. I thought I understood who he was calling and what it meant. I was going to William Harper, along with all the evidence I’d been collecting against him.
The ramifications hit me in a rush. The handcuffs on my wrist were too tight, the metal cold and hard. Terrifyingly hard. I didn’t know what William Harper had planned for me, but I’d seen the pictures of the girls they’d trafficked, I knew where those girls had ended up. I didn't want to end up like that.
I wasn't sure I had control over my own destiny any longer. Adam wasn't listening to me. Adam wasn't even Adam. Despair swept through me, and my eyes welled with tears. I'd been so stupid.
Thinking I could help the FBI make a case again somebody working with the mob, thinking it wasn't going to come back on me, thinking that out of nowhere I could suddenly have this amazing boyfriend. The FBI part, that could have been real. But I should have known Adam was too good to be true. With my life shattered around me, I wanted to know the truth.
"Who are you?" I asked, needing to know who he was. "Is your name really Adam Stewart? Do you normally work for Harper or is this just a one time thing, like he called you in to fix a problem?"
My voice shook with emotion and tears, and my cheeks flushed red. I hated crying, hated that he saw me falling apart. Desperation clawed in my chest, fear over what was going to happen to me when he left me with William Harper and walked away. I couldn't escape, I couldn't do anything.
"Tell me," I demanded, when Adam remained silent. "Tell me. You owe me at least that much."
"I don't owe you jack shit. You lied to me. You’re a fucking liar."
His voice was ice cold, no trace of the hurt I’d thought I heard before. But if I was just a job, why was Adam so angry?
" I'm not the liar,” I said. Then, “Your name isn't Adam, is it?"
"Shut the fuck up,” Adam said, his words tight, clipped. "I can't believe I was so wrong. And to think, I'd really started to believe that you were clean. The only fucking person in all these years that was really innocent. But no, all I needed was one more day and I found everything. I was thinking about getting you a lawyer. How’s that for irony?”
Yeah, sure that was irony. He was feeling betrayed. The last I checked he wasn't the one in handcuffs.
"Fine, don't tell me your name,” I said. “But if it’s true you wanted to believe that I was innocent, if you really were going to get a lawyer, then call the FBI. Please. Ask for Agent Tierney."
The SUV turned into a residential neighborhood with large lots and huge homes. I had no doubt this was where William Harper lived. My time was running out. The vehicle slowed, turning into a driveway. Panic overwhelmed me and I started to beg,
“Please, please, Adam. Call Agent Tierney with the Vegas office of the FBI. Please don't leave me here and walk away. If you do I'm going to disappear. Harper’s trafficking girls with the Russian mob, and you can't leave me here. Please don't leave me. Call Agent Tierney. Please."
The SUV stopped, and I shut my mouth. He