The Replay (Boys of Richland #3)

4. Cecilia

cecilia

. . .

Panic lodges in my throat, thick and unyielding. I am not doing this. I can’t. What was I thinking getting into this car? I should have run. God, I’m an idiot. Why didn’t I run?

To hell if her driver chases me. At least if I ran, I’d have a chance. I remember reading that the odds of surviving an abduction plummet once a victim is taken to a second location. Something like seventy-five percent of abductions end in murder if the victim is moved.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Why am I only just now remembering that statistic from that stupid true crime podcast Adriana made me listen to with her? I’ve just royally screwed myself over.

My stomach churns with a sudden, sickening realization. Oh god. What if this is their plan to get rid of me? What if “we need to talk” is code for “we need to make it easier to dispose of the body?”

Jaymin’s plan to get Austin off could be to get rid of me. It’s as simple as that. No victim, no charges. Right?

My fingers fumble for the handle, trembling so hard I can barely grasp it. But just like I thought they would be, the child locks are already engaged.

“Let me out.” My voice is strained, a desperate whisper as panic settles over me like a second skin, suffocating and tight. The SUV’s interior is a black cage, the air thick with tension and the oppressive scent of luxury. Jaymin’s sharp blue eyes bore into mine, amplifying my fear. God. Her eyes are just like his.

I rattle the handle again, my breaths coming in short, stuttered gasps. “I’m serious,” I say to no one in particular. “Let me out of the car.”

My eyes dart to the gap between the front seats. There’s a small sliver of hope. Child locks only work on the rear doors, right? I could slip between the seats and?—

“Ms. Russo?—”

I don’t answer her. My mind conjures possible routes of escape before quickly discarding them one after the other. Think, Cecilia. Think.

“Ms. Russo—” She reaches a hand toward me.

“Don’t touch me!” I snap, my voice on the edge of hysteria.

My hands are shaking uncontrollably now. A high-pitched ringing fills my ears, threatening to drown out everything else. My field of vision narrows as the weight of the situation crashes over me. I can’t breathe. With my phone still in my hand, I clutch at my chest.

Not again. I will not be somebody else’s unwilling victim again.

I glance at the driver—his eyes cold and impassive in the rearview mirror—then back to Jaymin. The driver is the more obvious threat, but Jaymin is the one in charge. Her authority is almost tangible in the confined space, pressing in around me on all sides. I’m suffocating, the walls of the SUV closing in.

“Let me out!” I scream. “Screw getting our stories straight. I don’t need to be on whatever page of crazy you happen to be on." So much for being reasonable.

My vision blurs. Don’t pass out. Do. Not. Pass. Out. “Fuck. You’re just like him, aren’t you?” I’m hyperventilating. “Austin’s the way he is because of you.”

My words hang in the air between us, and Jaymin’s nostrils flare. The only indication that my words had any effect on her.

“Are you done?” she asks, her words clipped.

My chest rises and falls at a rapid rate because no, I’m not done. But shit, what are my options here?

The SUV’s engine hums around me, a mechanical beast ready to swallow me whole. I ignore Jaymin’s question and retrieve my phone from the floor mat where I must have dropped it. I press my finger on the power button. “Come on. Come on.” The screen illuminates. Yes!

I wait for the home screen to load, my knee bouncing with impatience when Jaymin plucks the device from my fingertips. I lunge for it but not before the driver shoves an arm between the seats, effectively knocking me back.

“Give that back!”

Jaymin ignores me. Tucking my phone into the purse beside her feet, she glares down her nose at me. I consider diving for it. But then what?

“My patience is wearing thin, Ms. Russo. I recommend you pull yourself together so we can get this conversation over with.”

I force myself to breathe, each inhalation shallow and quick.

Jaymin’s eyes are narrowed. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be, Cecilia. Austin is out on bail. Get yourself together so we can discuss what needs to happen next.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of my lungs. “What?” Disbelief and horror mingle into one sickening cocktail. “He made bail?” How the hell did he make bail?

The officer who took my statement said he wouldn’t. That given the severity of his crime and the clear motive and evidence, he wouldn’t be afforded the opportunity before trial.

Was the officer mistaken? Or did he lie?

Jaymin’s gaze is steady, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Yes. He made bail,” she repeats, each word a dagger of cold reality. “I need you to listen to me very carefully.”

I swallow hard, my pulse racing. But the shock of her revelation has cut through my panic like a knife.

“Austin was released this afternoon. But, he didn’t come home. My husband is in the process of locating him now, which is why?—”

“You think he’ll come after me again?”

Her jaw tightens. “My son is angry. But he isn’t an idiot.” Not sure I agree with that statement. Austin did try to drown me on campus with cameras and witnesses after all. “His anger may have clouded his judgment before, but I do not believe him so unreasonable as to allow his anger to override him again. No. This—” she indicates the space between us, ”—is merely a precaution until my husband is able to determine our son’s whereabouts.”

She’s kidding herself if she believes that. “How long are you going to force me to stay here?”

She sighs and looks away. “As long as is necessary. I suggest you get comfortable.” So much for ten minutes.