“We’re going to my place.” He finally says with a smile, looking pleased with himself.
His place?
“And where is your place?” I force my voice to stay light, hoping he’ll just tell me and make my grand escape much easier.
My current plan? Feign compliance until I’m alone. Then order an Uber home.
“Nice try.” He chuckles.
Double damn it.
“How long will we be there, Matty?” I try a nickname, hoping to appeal to his emotional side. I heard that’s what they do when negotiating with criminals. Maybe if he trusts me, he’ll let me go, with my tongue intact.
“Don’t call me that.” He snaps; his voice sharp with frustration.
Okay. Duly noted.
Let’s try again.
“Alright. So, what should I call you?”
“Nothing. You shouldn’t know my name. Admitting you do makes me less likely to let you go.”
I blink.
Well, that’s not promising.
“I don’t know your name.” I lie.
He knows I’m lying.
I know he knows I’m lying.
But I have to try.
“You’ve called me by my name multiple times.” His voice is dry. “Just call me Matthias.”
He sounds annoyed. Sorry, Matty. If you wanted an easy afternoon, maybe you should’ve justnotkidnapped a random, innocent girl. You know, aftermurderingtwo people in front of her.
Like damn, Matty. It’s before noon on a Monday and you’ve already killed two men and kidnapped me. I hate to see how the rest of your week looks.
“Okay. So, Matthias.” I exaggerate his name just to be annoying, “How long will we be at your place?”
“I don’t know. I need to figure it out.”
That doesn’t sound comforting. I need to go home.
“Could we make a pit stop at my house on the way there?”
“No.”
“Please? I really need to go. I’ll even come back with you.”
“No.”
“Please?”
He sighs. “What do you need?”
