“He’s talking about your little girlfriend!” shrieks Thomas, still kneeling on the floor. “She’s as crazy as you are!”
I point at him, blood pulsing in my vision. “Say that again. Go ahead. Call her crazy one more time.”
“What he means,” says Grayson soothingly, putting a hand on my outstretched arm, “is that she passed with flying colors.”
I lower my arm. When I only stare at him, he nods. “She refused to admit she knew you at all, even when we showed her the pictures.”
“The pictures?”
“Don’t get your hackles up. You know how this works. Would you like me to tell you more, or would you prefer to continue the rampaging-gorilla routine?”
“You can tell me on the way to where you’re holding her. And so help me, god—”
“I know,” he says drily. “If she’s got even a miniscule bruise, you’l
