I wince, tasting blood. She grins, looking somewhat unhinged. Her hair spirals all around her. “I want you to know that this is mega-f****d, okay? And another thing: that’s the last time you ever get to kiss me. Can you get off? Please?”
“Are you going to stop struggling?”
I slide onto the seat next to her, watching for any movement. But she just sits there, eyes closed, taking long, deep breaths as though to steady herself. As we glide silently into the night, I wonder just what I’ve gotten myself into.
I wake up, expecting to be in my own bed. Those hazy post-sleep moments tell me that last night was just a crazy nightmare. There’s no way I’m lying in a room in Carlo De Maggio’s mansion. There’s no way they dragged me in here last night and locked the door.
But when I sit up and look
