“I didn’t take anything away from you, Fiona. You did it to yourself.”
“He was happy with me,” Fiona hissed. “Greyson was happy with me!”
“And he would have stayed happy with you if you hadn’t controlled every moment of his life,” I hissed. “Did you flush the toilet for him too?” My sarcastic comment earned a deadly nail flying at me. It lodged in the metal van floor only inches from my leg. Dang, that’s a big nail.
“I did many things for him,” she said. Her intonation sent a clear message. But I knew Greyson, and she was a few blueberries short of a muffin. “After he fired me . . . fired me! I had to grovel for my old job back. The thing is, Daddy doesn’t just let a person leave and crawl back. Daddy never lets anyone leave.”
The chill was back and this time it was creepy, but it started clearing up a few things. Her eerily calm voice while talking about her dad had my active imagination running like it was infused with ten shots of espresso. I watched, waiting for her head to start spinning like in a bad horror flick. When nothing happened and no nails were shot at me, I asked, “Where are you taking me?”
“To be with Greyson,” she said simply, and then whispered to herself, “Happily ever after.”
I slowly slipped close to the back door and fumbled with the handle. I’d gladly fling myself out of a moving vehicle to get as far away from Fiona as possible. The damn thing didn’t budge.
She tisked. “I should have brought Frankie too. It would have been perfect.”
“Well, if you can’t do something right, you shouldn’t do it at all,” I said in a sad attempt to prickle her OCD and let me free.
“No, it will be right. It just would have been better,” she tisked again. “Really, I should have planned better. I’m losing my touch.”
Do I ask? Do I even want to know?
My brain answered: NO! But somewhere my faulty instincts were telling me to discover her plan. You can’t fight a shadow without finding the source.
“What’s the plan?” I asked nonchalantly. “Are you going to force Greyson to kill me?”
She perked. “Why didn’t I think of that? That’s much better than my plan,” she said with huff. “I was going to bury Greyson and you in the pond. Frankie could have married you both before I dumped you in the pit. You know . . . until death do you part. How romantic!” she declared. “I really should have planned this better. Well, it doesn’t matter. Your idea is better.”
I stilled. “What idea?” Oh, please no! Damn this mouth of mine.
“Of forcing Greyson to kill you. But don’t worry, you won’t be without him for long.”
Damn. Damn. Damn!
No one would think to look for me at Greyson’s. At least not right away. She’d have us six feet under a pond before we’d be missed.
“I think you should turn this van around and get Frankie,” I said as calmly as I could, which was nearly impossible. My voice shrilled in the metal van. “It would be such a feather in your cap to pull off a wedding and funeral at once.” It was a desperate attempt, but I was that desperate.
“We’re almost at Greyson’s. He’ll be so happy to see you. The poor guy has been starved of company.”
“Starved?”
“Poor Greyson was so distraught after your argument, he didn’t see me coming. I must say, you can’t dance. You were offbeat and looked like you were having spasms.”
The barbs prickled, but it was Greyson who I was worried about. She had been there, watching . . . waiting.
“You’ve had Greyson this entire time?”
“Had him?” she asked wickedly. “Let’s just say he’s been in my employment since that horrible display. I have to admit, I was a much better assistant than he’s been.”
“Is he okay?”
“For now.”
“He knows your plan?”
“Of course. Even though he fired me, I still gave him the courtesy of a briefing. He was rather ungrateful of all the work and planning that went into this day. But he learned.”
A slick, nauseating feeling sloshed as she rounded into Greyson’s driveway. She rolled down the window and entered the gate code. What’s the point of a security gate if you give the cuckoo bird the code?
Fiona drove the van around to the back of the house. The van bumped along the grassy lawn. She pulled alongside the empty pond and parked. She jumped out and tossed open the back door, pointing the nail gun at me.
“Come on out,” she said with a lopsided smile. Fiona wasn’t wearing one of the tight dresses she normally did. She wore painter’s pants and a T-shirt, both of which were well used. She wasn’t an office employee in her dad’s business; she was a worker.
“I said get out!” she shouted. Her fingers grasped the gun firmly.
“I’m coming,” I said, scrambling out. There was no way I’d argue while trapped in a confined space where she couldn’t miss. Talk about shooting fish in a barrel.
As soon as I was on the ground, she shoved me into the pond. I rolled and tumbled until I came to an ungraceful, sprawling stop at the bottom. I quickly stood, holding my arm in pain.
“Greyson, dear,” Fiona called. “I brought you a visitor.”
I heard a low muttering, perhaps cursing. I scanned the pond and saw a deep pit a few yards away. I quickly crossed over to it and looked down. Greyson was at the bottom, bound and gagged. The pit was deep enough that he couldn’t get out even if he wasn’t bound.
Fiona!
I whirled around to find her behind me. She shoved me, toppling me inside. Greyson made an attempt to break my fall, but with bound hands, he made us more of a tangled mess. He moaned as I landed on him, my knee falling in an . . . unfortunate spot.
“I’m so sorry!” I apologized, popping off him as he curled into a ball.
A laugh echoed in our deep prison. I glanced up and didn’t see Fiona. Not that I wanted to see her, but not seeing her worried me. I stooped to unknot Greyson’s binds. He was still curled up but he wasn’t groaning, except for the occasional whimper.
“I told you she was crazy!” I scolded, unraveling the knots. I knew it wasn’t the time to tell him what he obviously knew, but it had to be said. “No one ever listens to me.”
As soon as I had him freed and the gag removed, he rolled up with a wince.
“I’ve learned my lesson a hundred times over,” he rasped. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know. She laughed and disappeared.”
“She’ll be back,” he said, rubbing his wrists where the binds had rubbed his skin raw. “I’ll boost you up. Run to the garage. The keys are in the Ferrari.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“I’ll find a way out.”
I glanced up at the wall of dirt. He wasn’t getting out. He read my mind and said, “Go find help. I’ll stall.”
“But . . .”
“There’s no time,” he said, grabbing my legs and pushing me up. “Grab a hold.”
My hand dug into the dirt but it crumbled. Greyson sputtered as dirt fell down on him.
“Can you push me any higher?” I asked. “I can’t get a grip.”
He let out a low grunt and tossed me out. Those recently added muscles came in handy.
“Hurry!” he ordered.
Damn him. I knew he was ordering me away so I could escape. He knew darn well I’d never make it back in time to help him if I left him there. If he thought I was leaving him to die, he was crazier than Fiona.
An engine revved to life, and I turned to find Fiona in the excavator cab. Her hands were at the controls, maneuvering the giant machine toward the pit.
“What’s going on?” Greyson called.
“Fiona’s in the excavator.”
“Run! Go find help!”
Damn him, I thought again. Fiona could see me. She knew I wasn’t in the pit with Greyson and yet she didn’t seem concerned. It was as if she was taking her time, playing with her food before she ate.
“Nadia,” she ca
lled. “Don’t go too far. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” Her callous laugh carried in the breeze.
The decision was made. I was not abandoning Greyson.
“Get the hell out of here!” Greyson shouted.
“I’m not leaving you!” I scanned for a weapon. Any weapon. “There has to be a way.”
The excavator closed in. The engine rumbled in my ear, the tracks squeaked. I dodged as Fiona positioned the arm. She set the brakes and hopped out.
“Greyson,” she called, peering into the pit yet aiming the nail gun at me. “Nadia gave me a great idea. I’ll give you a second chance, but you have to prove you’re worthy.”
Oh, no! I scanned the pond, looking for anything that could help. There was the excavator, but I’d only get halfway into the cab before a dozen deadly nails were shot at me.
I had to get the gun away from her. But how?
Catching a glimpse of metal off to the side of the pond, I inched over.
Greyson’s shovel.
“I’ll let you live,” Fiona continued. “But you have to do something for me.”
“What?” Greyson’s voice was controlled but underlying anger infused it.
I was inching closer to the shovel. Fiona wasn’t paying attention, but I knew she’d detect a sudden movement. Greyson had to keep her distracted.
“Kill Nadia,” she trilled with a pleased laugh.
There was no answer.
“You won’t do it?” she asked with displeasure, her mood deteriorating rapidly. “If you don’t, I’ll just shoot you right now and bury you. No, that won’t do. I’ll bury you alive. Can you imagine it, Greyson?” Her lips curled into a sick smile. “Your lungs burning like they’re on fire. Panic. Fear.” She grinned with a small hop. “So much fear and no escape. Your body trapped under hundreds of pounds of dirt. No escape.” Her chin tilted. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather live? All you have to do is kill Nadia.”
The shovel was at my feet. I slowly bent to pick it up. My fingers gripped the handle. I inched toward Fiona with the shovel behind me.
“How?” Greyson asked.
Fiona’s brows quirked.
“How would I kill Nadia?” Greyson asked.
“Nail to the head?” she offered thoughtfully. “You could strangle her. How about burying her alive?” She shook her head. “No, that’s too easy. I want to see you kill her with your own hands.”
“I’ll do it.”
Chapter 24
I nearly stumbled with the shovel. Greyson said it so casually and without emotion. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was serious about killing me.
“I’ll toss her down for you,” Fiona grinned and stepped back from the pit.
“No! You will get me out of this pit first.”
“I don’t think so!”
“Did you forget the art of negotiation, Fiona?” Greyson asked calmly. “Your dad was right; you’ll never make it in the business world. You’ll never amount to anything.”
Oh, geez. You’re not making my job easier, Greyson.
But, amazingly, he did.
Fiona squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.
I crept up behind her and froze when her eyes popped back open. They were glazed over as if she couldn’t see.
“I will make it,” she gritted. “I will make it!”
“Go back to your dad,” Greyson said callously. “He was right. You’re nothing. You’ll never amount to anything. You’re worthless!”
What the hell is he thinking? I gulped as Fiona’s eyes flashed and her hands shook violently. Two nails shot out of the gun, burrowing into the ground. It caught her attention, and she turned her shaking hand to the pit and aimed at Greyson.
I charged at Fiona, swinging the shovel at her back. It connected with a thud, dislodging a nail before she flailed into the pit.
Oh no! I trapped Greyson with her and a nail gun. I raced over.
“Greyson!”
“Stop!” he ordered.
I halted at the edge to find Fiona slumped in the corner with the nail gun pointed at Greyson. Blood oozed around a nail imbedded in his leg. Oh, damn. My stomach flipped. I stood still, not wanting to startle Fiona.
I had successfully made the situation worse, I berated myself, not knowing how to fix it.
“You hate me. You’ve always hated me,” Fiona cried bitterly.
Greyson looked at her from his side of the pit. He kept quiet and didn’t move. Just watched.
“Why?” she asked. “Why do you hate me?” Her already-shaking hands jerked.
“I don’t,” he finally said.
A quiet laugh died in her throat. “Is it because I’m not a boy, Daddy? Is that why you locked me away? Can’t be bothered with a girl?”
Oh, boy. Fiona’s in her own world. She’s nuttier than an Almond Joy, and Greyson’s trapped. I’d almost feel sorry for her if she wasn’t so intent on killing us.
I had to rescue Greyson from the pit before she realized that it’s her daddy she wants to kill.
I ran to the excavator and climbed in. If I lower the bucket into the pit, he could ride out in the bucket. I touched the controls and the arm swung, wrenching to the side. Or, I’ll end up killing him with an uncontrolled movement. Suddenly the plan didn’t seem like such a good idea.
With a string of curses, I jumped out of the cab and ran to the pit. Fiona was still in her delusional cloud. Greyson’s eyes lifted to mine. He attempted to convey a message, but I had no idea what it was.
His house and grounds were so large that I’d be running all over trying to find something to help. As it was, time was not on our side. Fiona’s cloud was growing darker. She screamed for her dad to stop.
“Stop!” she wailed. A nail shot out and hit Greyson’s shoulder. He tumbled back with a groan.
“Stop!” she screamed again, shooting another nail. It hit Greyson’s arm.
Shit!
There was no time left. With the shovel in my hands, I jumped into the pit and swung. The metal connected with a thud. A zing stormed my broken wrist, but it barely registered. I stood motionless—except for my heart, which was blasting against my chest—waiting for her to shoot.
Nothing happened.
I peeked down at Fiona who was out cold. A trickle of blood ran down her forehead.
“I don’t know if I should be thanking you or scolding you,” Greyson grimaced.
I turned to find him slumped in the corner, holding his bleeding arm.
“I think a thank you would be in order,” I said, grabbing the nail gun and tossing it out of the pit. “Except now we’re stuck in here with Fiona. She’s disarmed but completely cuckoo.”
“I can give you a lift up,” he said, attempting to stand.
“Stay,” I ordered and bent down to look at his injuries. “I doubt you could toss me out like you did the first time. You have three nails stuck in you.”
“Do I?” he gritted sarcastically.
“Should I pull them out?” I asked with a brave face.
“God, no!” He scooted away. “Just don’t touch. I’ll be fine.”
Relieved I didn’t have to tug nails out of flesh, I sat down next to him and leaned my back against the dirt wall. He took my hand in his and held it.
“What should we do with her?” I asked.
“I have no idea.”
“How long have you been in the pit?” I asked.
“Since after I left Celebrity Mash.”
“Can I say it again?” I asked.
“Yes,” he sighed. “I deserve it.”
“I told you so.”
He squeezed my hand and then cringed. Blood trickled down his arm.
“Stop moving,” I said. “We need to get you out of here.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I seem to always be apologizing for something, don’t I?”
“What are you apologizing for?”
“God, there’s so much. Should I email you a list?” he quietly teased and then leaned
over to kiss my temple, groaning as he straightened. “But right now, I’m sorry you’re in a pit with me and my former employee.”
“Has she ever mentioned her dad before?” I asked, as my eyes traveled over her unconscious form.
“No. I didn’t know anything about him until I was tossed in here. She mentioned him a few times and the puzzle started to fit together.”
“You tormented her until she cracked. I thought she was going to kill you.”
“I thought so too. I was trying to distract her.”
“You pissed her off.”
“I have that effect.”
“Yes, you do,” I said, laughing. “But you’re easy to forgive as well.”
Silence.
“I’ll wait for you,” he said finally. “I don’t care how long it takes for you to decide between him and me. I’ll wait.”
“Greyson . . .”
“Unless you’ve already decided,” he continued, with a deep breath. “In which case I will accept whatever your decision is.”
“Greyson . . .”
“But you don’t have tell me,” he said. “Unless you want to.”
I leaned over and kissed him. “Shut up.”
He gave a nod and took another deep breath.
“I have decided.”
Silence.
“Greyson, I love you. I love the time we spent together. I love the man that you are and the man that you’re becoming. It’s just a different love than I feel for Caleb.”
I felt his body stiffen.
“I’m sorry, Greyson. I never wanted to hurt you. I just didn’t understand my feelings. But I understand them now. You’ll always be in my heart, but I have to give a relationship with Caleb a chance. I have to try.”
He cleared his throat. “I understand.”
“No, you don’t,” I said, squeezing his hand. “But thank you for trying to make this easy on both of us. You’re a good man.”
“You only deserve the best. I hope he deserves you.”
I shrugged. “We’ll see.”
“And if not, I’ll be here.”
“Don’t you dare say that,” I said, shifting to my knees to look at him. “You deserve happiness. Don’t you dare wait.”
“Happiness comes to those who wait,” he said with a small smile.
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