Loving The Temperamental Adonis
Chapter 123: I believe you

Chapter 123: I believe you

"We’re in Avalora," Mia pointed out the instant they drove past the sign announcing they were there.

Neil shot her a look of grim amusement. "I see that." He remarked nonchalantly as he relaxed his back on the seat.

Mia frowned deeply at his nonchalance, "Well? Where do you intend to get out of my car?"

"Not yet. Keep driving." He said calmly.

"Keep driving to where?" she cried in nervous fury. "Now look, I’m not driving you all the way to the mountains!"

Neil had his answer, she knew exactly where he was going!

"I won’t do it!" Mia warned shakily, unaware that she had just sealed her fate with the devil.

"I can’t...I won’t." She murmured shakingly while fighting back her tears.

With an inner sigh at the battle she was bound to wage, Neil said, "Yes, Ms. Harrison, you can. And you will." He ordered with an unflappable calmness.

His unflappable calmness was the last snap on Mia’s nerves, she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "I hope you rot in hell after your death!" She cursed while angrily swinging the steering wheel hard to the right before he could stop her and sending the car careening onto the side of the road as she slammed on the brakes and brought it to a lurching stop.

"Take the car!" she pleaded, desperate to get away from him. "Take it and leave me here. I won’t tell anyone I’ve seen you or where you’re going. I swear I won’t tell anyone. Please..."

Neil reined in his temper and tried to soothe her with an attempt at levity, which he’d never tried to do with anyone before he was sent to prison. "When I was a little boy, I watched a movie where the hostage promised those same words to her kidnapper," he remarked conversationally, glancing over his shoulder at the cars roaring past them. "And i thought it sounded stupid."

"This isn’t a movie!" She glared at him.

"But you do agree that it is an absurd promise," he argued with a slight smile. "You know it is. Admit it, Mia."

Shocked that he was apparently trying to tease her as if they were friends, Mia stared at him in furious silence, knowing he was right about the promise being ridiculous, but refusing to admit it or engage in any conversational words with him.

"You can’t really expect me to believe," he continued, his voice softening a little, "that you’d let me get away with adducting you and stealing your expensive car and then be so grateful to me for doing both that you’d keep a promise to me you made under extreme duress? Doesn’t that sound a little ridiculous to you?"

"Do you expect me to debate psychology with you when my whole life is at stake!" she burst out furiously while glaring at him.

"I realize you’re afraid, but your life isn’t at stake unless you put it there. You aren’t in any form of danger unless you create it, little one." He whispered softly.

Perhaps it was exhaustion or the low timbre of his voice or the steadiness of his gaze, but as Mia looked at his solemn features, she found herself almost believing him and relaxing.

"I don’t want you to get hurt," he continued, "and you won’t, as long as you don’t do anything that attracts attention to me and alerts the military_"

"And if I attract any attention to you," Mia interrupted bitterly, snapping out of her trance, "you will blow my brains out with your gun. That’s very comforting, Mr. Wayner."

Neil held his temper in check and explained, "If the military catch up with me, they’ll have to kill me, because I’m not going to surrender to them. Given the vigilante mentality of the military, there’s a good chance you’ll be hurt or killed in the crossfire. I don’t want that to happen. Can you understand that, Mia?"

Furious with herself for being subdued by empty gentle words from a ruthless murderer, Mia jerked her gaze from his and stared out the front window. "Do you actually think you can convince me of being a gentleman and not a depraved monster?"

"Evidently not," he said irritably.

When she refused to look at him again, Neil gave an impatient sign and said curtly, "Stop being a baby and start driving. I need to find another roadside phone booth to make a call."

The moment his voice chilled, Mia realized how foolish she’d been to ignore his friendly overture and annoyed him. What she probably ought to be doing, she decided as she pulled back out onto the highway, was fooling him into believing she was resigned to going along with him. At this point, she couldn’t escape him nor could she call for help as he had taken her phone earlier and turned it off. The only way out was to fool him.

As the snowflakes danced in front of her headlights, her mind began to calm and she thought carefully about possible ways out of her predicament, because it now seemed horribly likely that he was going to force her to drive him through Avalora and up to the mountains, when she ought to be at home by now preparing for Christmas with Rayne and Owen.

Finding a means to foil his plan and get away became not only a necessity, but a downright challenge. To do that, she knew she had to be objective and to keep all traces of fright and hate from clouding her thoughts. She should be able to do that, Mia reminded herself. After all, she had graduated from investigation journalism, she was well versed on how to deceive people and get them to trust you. She would use that to her advantage and escape from him.

Chewing on her lower lip, she decided to try to think of her ordeal as if it were merely a plot in one of the novels she loved to read. She’d always felt some of the heroines in those novels behaved with obvious stupidity, which was what she’d been doing by antagonizing her captor, she thought.

A clever female lead would do the opposite, she’d be devious and find ways to make Neil relax his guard completely. If he did that, her chances to escape, and get him returned to prison where he belonged, would be dramatically increased. To accomplish that goal, she could try to pretend she was coming to think of this nightmare as an adventure, maybe she could even pretend to be on his side, which would require a wonderful performance, but she was willing to try.

Despite her grave misgivings about her ability to succeed, Mia suddenly felt a welcome calm and determination sweep through her, banishing her fear and leaving her head clearer. She waited several moments before speaking, so that her surrender wouldn’t seem too sudden and suspicious to him, then she drew a steadying breath and tried to inject a rueful note into her voice,

"Mr. Wayner," she called softly, actually managing to cast him a slight, sideways smile, "I appreciate what you said about not intending to hurt me. I didn’t mean to be sarcastic. I was afraid, that’s all."

"And now you aren’t afraid?" he countered, his voice laced with skepticism.

"Well, yes," Mia hastened to assure him. "You already gave me your words that you won’t hurt me if I don’t interfere with your plans."

"May I inquire what brought about this sudden transformation in you? What were you thinking about while you were so quiet a moment ago?" He asked suspiciously.

"A novel," she said because it seemed safe. "A mystery novel."

"One you’ve read? Or one you’re thinking about writing?" He raised a questioning brow.

Her mouth opened, but no words came out, and then she realized he’d unknowingly handed her the perfect means to his own defeat. "You see, when I graduated from Ivy Grove, I’ve always wanted to write a mystery novel someday," she muttered softly, "and it occurred to me now that this could be, well, first-hand research with you."

"I see." He drawled while staring at her as if to search her expression for any lies, but when he found none. He relaxed a bit.

Mia darted another glance at him and was startled by the warmth of a smile she found on his face.

This devil could charm a snake, she realized, recalling that same rare smile from the past. Back then she would give anything to see him smile at her, but now she would give anything to make sure he never smiled again!

"You are a remarkably brave young woman, Mia."

She choked back her irate demand to be called Ms. Harrison and forced a convincing genuine smile. "Actually, I’m the world’s greatest coward, Mr.__"

"My name is Neil," he interrupted, and in his impassive tone she sensed a return of his suspicion. She couldn’t give herself away and had to keep pretending. If it were before, she would be head over the moon by the thought of meeting Neil Wayner in person.

"Neil," she hastily agreed. "You’re quite right. We ought to use first names now, since we’re apparently going to be together for...?" She looked at him for answer.

"Quit a while," he provided, and Mia made a huge effort to conceal her frustrated fury at his curt reply.

"Quit a while," she agreed, careful to keep her tone neutral. "Well, that’s probably long enough for you to help me with some research about my novel," she hesitated, thinking of what to ask him.

"Would you, well, consider giving me some insight into what prison is really like and your experience in there. That would be helpful for my novel as I plan to make my male lead an ex-con."

"Would it?"

He was scaring the hell out of her with the subtle, ever-changing differences in his voice. Never before had she known a man or woman who could convey so much with imperceptible changes in his voice, nor had she heard a voice like his in her life. It had a rich deep-toned timbre that could switch instantly and unaccountably from polite to amused to icy and ominous.

He was never like this before, or perhaps she’d never viewed him as a dangerous man then?

In answer to his question, Mia nodded vigorously, trying to counteract his skeptical tone by injecting energy and conviction in her own.

"Absolutely." An idea suddenly flashed to her mind, she realized that if he thought she was on his side, he’d be even more likely to lower his guard. "I’ve heard that a lot of innocent people get sent to prison. Were you innocent of the murders?" She asked, her fingers tightening around the steering wheel.

"Every convicted murderer claims he’s innocent."

"Yes, but are you?" she persisted, dying for him to say he was so she could pretend to believe him.

"The judge said I was guilty of killing them, and guilty of allowing the bomb to explode when I could defuse it."

"Judges have been wrong before."

"Twenty well skilled investigators, and four attorneys," he replied in a voice suddenly iced with loathing, "decided I was guilty."

"I’m sure they tried to be objective."

"Damn them!" he said so furiously that Mia’s hands tightened on the steering wheel under a fresh rush of fear and dread.

"They convicted me of being rich and famous!" he snapped. "I watched their faces during the trial, and the more the bastard attorneys blabbered about my privileged life, the more the citizens of the country wanted my blood! The whole damned, soldiers I trained, turned their backs on me when I needed them! Bunch of them knew there was a ’reasonable doubt’ I didn’t commit those murders and they knew I defused that bomb years ago and that’s why they didn’t recommend a death penalty to me. They didn’t give me a chance to find the culprit and prove myself before they sent me to that hellhole of a prison!"

Mia felt the perspiration break out on her palms at the rage in his voice that sent cold shivers down her spine. Now, more than ever before, she realized how important it was to make him believe she sympathized with him. It had been said that he was mentally unstable and had committed those murders in the state of unawareness, which meant he would surely believe he didn’t do it and when she pretended to believe him, he would trust her.

"But you weren’t guilty, were you? You just couldn’t prove who really committed the murder, is that it?" she asked in a trembling voice.

"What difference does it make?" he snapped.

"It m-makes a difference to me because I believe you didn’t do it."

For a moment he studied her in frozen silence and then his voice made one of its abrupt, compellingly soft turns. "If it truly makes a difference to you, then no, I didn’t commit any of those crimes."

He was lying, of course. He had to be as he was a mentally ill. Mia convinced herself. "I believe you." Trying to heap more reassurances on him, she added, "And if you are innocent, then you have every right to try to escape from that prison."

His answer was an uncomfortably long silence during which she felt his piercing gaze examining every feature on her face, then he said abruptly, "The sign said there’s a phone booth up ahead. Pull over when you see it." He then looked away from her.