✨EXCERPT: GOOD HANDS by @authormaggiegates releasing June 2nd!
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Amelia was being far too amicable for someone who had just been abducted.
I had kidnapped plenty of people and even kept a pair of earplugs on hand should such an occasion arise.
The constant screaming and “please don’t kill me!” was always rather taxing.
But there she was—sitting in the front seat, ankles crossed, pretty as a picture.
She was up to something. I just didn’t know what.
The truck rumbled as I navigated the mess of highways that would get us out of New Jersey. Not that crossing the state line would protect us from John Valentine, but the first rule of self-defense is to make space. The more space, the better.
I glanced at Amelia out of the corner of my eye. She was just . . . sitting there. She wasn’t looking out her window. She was staring straight ahead, as if she was the one driving.
Why isn’t she freaking out?
Why isn’t she asking questions, like where I’m taking her or what’s happening to her brother or how long we’ll be gone?
Does she know more than she’s letting on?
I squeezed the steering wheel as I tried to figure out what was going on in that brilliant head of hers.
I had read all the articles, news pieces, and interviews. I knew everything there was to know about the genius in my passenger seat and her eidetic memory. Usually, knowing more about the subject than they knew about me gave me the upper hand.
But with Amelia Hawthorne, I wasn’t so sure.
Her silence was unsettling, and I was never unsettled.
Did she think I hadn’t done a good job? I’d seen some sloppy kidnappings over the years. Nausea aside, Amelia had gotten a premium abduction experience.
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“Fine. I’ll admit that he has pleasant features.”
They both burst out laughing at that.
“Okay, more than pleasant. Have you seen him?”
Delaney shook her head, waiting on tenterhooks for something more descriptive than “pleasant”.
“He’s…taller.”
“Taller,” she repeated. “That’s all you’ve got for me?”
I stuttered over my thoughts in frustration. I didn’t want to think about him or hot he was. It would only ruin my plan to stay as far away from him as possible. But she wasn’t having it.
“Fine, he’s…muscular. Like, really, really muscular.”
“Declan muscular?”
“Not that much. But it’s one of those things that you can see through his shirt.”
Delaney sighed dreamily. “I love it when you can see their shirts stretched across their biceps.”
“Not to brag, but I have one of those,” Josie grinned.
Delaney smacked her arm. “Hey, some of us can only dream for now.” Then she turned back to me. “Go on.”
“Um…well, he still has warm, chocolate eyes. And his hair is shorter than it used to be.”
“Can you still run your fingers through it?”
As soon as I thought about it, shivers raced down my spine. That was not good. “Yes.”
“Oh my God,” Josie whispered. “Did you hear that hitch in her voice?”
“I definitely did. Tell us more.”
“There was no hitch.”
“There was definitely a hitch. Which means it’s really good. Now spill!”
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