Joanne grabbed his wrist and yanked him out of camera range. The next thing he felt was the stun gun against his neck.

Before she could press the button, he yelled, “Okay! Okay!”

“And look cheerful!” Joanne poised a thumb over her phone. “I’m turning on the sound, but if you say anything but the lyrics, I will stun you and I won’t stop.”

Stepping back into the camera’s range, Bob pulled his lips up into a rictus grin. At least the song was mercifully short. “Happy birthday, dear Mabel. Happy birthday to you.” His voice cracked as he finished the last line.

Joanne clicked the button on her phone to turn the sound off again. “Okay, just one more, Bob, and then you can write. I need you to pee like a dog.”

His face went hot. “I’m not going to pee on camera!”

She shrugged. “Just lift your leg and pretend. And then I’ll let you write until it’s time to go to bed.”

“I’m not doing it.” Bob forced himself to confront the truth that had been nagging at him since he first woke up in this room. “I mean, let’s be realistic. You two are never going to let me go, are you? As soon as the book is done, you’ll kill me.”

Joanne made a scoffing sound. “Oh, stop being so dramatic. Once the book is done, we’ll let you go.”

He made a raspberry noise. “Isn’t that what every kidnapper says?”

“But you don’t understand.” Her grin was flat. “That day you met Derrick, he recorded you guys thinking up the whole plan. Who’s going to listen to you once they realize you were a willing participant? What’s happening now is exactly what you wanted. What you talked to me about endlessly.” She moved her hand like a mouth flapping open and closed. “Blah, blah, I’ve got writer’s block, blah, blah, I wish I could write. Do you know how sick I got of your whining? By the time this is over, you’ll finally have the book done. Your publisher will be happy. Your fans will be happy, especially the ones who got it early. And you’ve even lost some weight. Frankly, all of us are already winning.” She shrugged. “But if it means that much to you, Bob, then go ahead and write. And we’ll do the other stuff later.”

BRIDGET

I’m Doing This for You

Thwack! Thwack! Ignoring the tears in her eyes, Bridget brought down the knife again and again.

But the onion was winning this war.