He storms back into the room, shoving the phone back in his pocket and pulling the gun from his waistband. I don’t know if he knows that I heard the end of his call, but I panic at the thought of him moving me. I don’t know where Nicholas and Carter are, or how they’ll find us, but if he keeps moving me, I know they’ll never find me. I need to do something; I take a deep breath and think back to the self-defense classes I took when I first moved to New York. I took them several times a week, for nearly a year, before my schedule finally...