by Tia Wylder
Barnes laughed. “And what are you going to do when your next biggest group of fans approaches? Run away and give them something to really look at?”
I rolled my eyes. “Very funny,” I said. “And you know that won’t happen.” I yawned. “I’m surprised anyone recognized me at all.”
Barnes shook his head. “Gianna, when are you going to get it? You’re smart, beautiful, and funny – you’re going to be a huge star.”
A smile spread across my face, and I closed my eyes before lowering my hat over my features to block out the sun.
“I think I’m going to take a little nap,” I said. A huge yawn came over me, and I shuddered. “You still feel like hanging around here for a while?”
“Of course,” Barnes said. He put his hand on my thigh and squeezed. “This is our honeymoon. Whatever you want to do, we’ll do.”
I dozed happily in the sun for what felt like hours before Barnes grabbed my leg again. This time, his touch wasn’t so gentle.
“Gianna, wake up,” Barnes said in a low murmur. “We should really get back to the house.”
I sat up and pulled the hat away from my face, holding my bikini strings together in the back so my breasts wouldn’t show.
“Why? What’s wrong?” I frowned at the sight of Barnes on his knees, haphazardly throwing all of our things into a beach bag. “Can’t we stay just a little bit longer?”
“Gianna, come on,” Barnes said.
The urgency in his voice roused me from my drowsy state, and I blinked before hastily knotting my bikini top back into place and climbing to my feet.
That was when I saw them. There were two men – both wearing caps and big sunglasses – holding cameras with huge lenses. One of them had been lying on the dunes with his lens pointed right at me. When they saw Barnes, they leapt to their feet and started scurrying off in the opposite direction.
“Shit,” I muttered. “I can’t believe they followed us!”
“You don’t know that,” Barnes muttered under his breath. “Maybe those girls were a plant, you know. Maybe the guys with the cameras gave them money to find out whether or not it was really you. They wouldn’t want to waste their time hanging around here taking pictures of a nobody.”
“Barnes, that sounds crazy,” I said hotly. “No one in their right mind would do something like that!”
Barnes jerked his head to the side, gesturing for me to follow. Reluctantly, I rolled up my towel and tucked it under my arm. My suit was still soaked from our brief swim, and I was unhappy that Barnes was so paranoid, all when it was for nothing.
“You know, if you really think there’s something to what you saw, we should call the cops,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m sure they’d love to help. They’re probably bored around here – it’s Malibu, after all.”
“You don’t get it, Gianna,” Barnes said. He tossed his wet hair back over his head. “The cops aren’t going to do shit.”
“How can I know that if you won’t even let me talk to them?” I asked angrily. “And if someone really is watching us, then I don’t feel safe at all!”
Barnes pulled me into a tight embrace. “Gianna, what have I always told you?” He asked tenderly, nuzzling my wet hair. “I’ll protect you, no matter what.”
I sighed. “I know,” I said softly. “I know.”
For a few days, all was quiet. Barnes and I spent our time lounging by the giant pool outside of our mansion, sunning ourselves on the beach, and eating fabulous food at Malibu’s hottest restaurants. I kept an eye out to make sure that we weren’t being followed, but after the incident on the beach, I didn’t feel safe…not even around my husband.
On our last day in Malibu, Barnes suggested a romantic coastal drive. “It’s longer than the way we came,” he said. “But I think it’ll be worth it.”
I smiled. “That sounds good to me,” I said, nodding enthusiastically. “Nothing like driving around with the top down.”
Barnes smirked. He pulled me close and slipped a finger inside my shirt, pulling it away from my body. “Yeah,” he said.
“You’re terrible,” I said, but I laughed, too. Over the course of our honeymoon, I’d begun feeling closer than ever before to Barnes. Now, it was hard to imagine life without him. When I thought back to my old life in Boston, my boring life with my parents and Diane, I couldn’t believe that I’d stood it for so long. As always, when I thought of Diane, I felt a slight twinge of guilt. I knew that I should send for her – and soon – but I wasn’t willing to risk my little sister’s safety while my stalker was still out there.
“Come on,” Barnes said. He leaned down to kiss me. “I rented a surprise.”
My eyebrow shot up. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Barnes said. He held out his elbow. “Because you’re a famous actress, I think you have to ride in style.”
I flushed “You’re spoiling me.”
“That’s the point, princess,” Barnes said. He dipped his head to my face and kissed my cheek.
Hard as it was to believe, Barnes’s corny pet names were actually starting to grow on me. I grinned as he took our suitcase in one hand and led me out of the luxurious honeymoon suite with the other.
When we got outside, I gasped. There was a beautiful, mint-green pastel vintage convertible with the top down. The seats were bright white leather, and it even had fins. It was easily the most beautiful car I’d ever seen.
“Oh my god,” I said, clasping a hand to my chest. “Are you kidding me? Is this real life?”
Barnes grinned. “Oh, yeah,” he said.
I reached into my purse and pulled out a sheer silk scarf. Tying it around my hair, I pulled my sunglasses down low on my nose.
“How do I look?” I asked, looking over the rims of my glasses at Barnes and batting my eyelashes.
“Like an old Hollywood starlet,” Barnes replied. “Come on, princess. Time to go home.”
I was sad to say goodbye to Malibu, but I was excited about going back home. A couple of industry magazines had published articles on Heaven Cove, and I’d been mentioned twice by name. It was thrilling to think about getting other work – maybe even a movie would be next!
As Barnes drove down the coastal highway, I rested my elbow on the door and put my chin in my hand, watching the scenery pass by at breakneck speed.
“Barnes, should we stop for lunch?” I yawned and stretched. “There has to be something good around here. Don’t oysters sound good? Oh! Could we get sushi? Does that sound better?”
Barnes muttered something under his breath. He didn’t look at me, and the car sped up.
“What, you’re not hungry?” Kicking off my espadrilles, I put my bare feet up on the dashboard.
To my surprise, Barnes pushed them right back down.
“What?” I blinked. “Don’t worry – I’m not going to get the car dirty, I know you rented it.”
Glancing over at the dashboard, I saw Barnes was going over eighty miles per hour. “And slow down!” I added. “You’re going to crash!”
“Gianna, put your shoes on,” Barnes said through clenched teeth. “We’re not going to stop. We’re going straight home.”
I frowned. “I don’t understand you sometimes,” I complained, reluctantly pulling my sandals back on. “You were in a great mood when we left the hotel. Did I say something? What happened?”
Barnes didn’t answer, but I felt the car speed up even more.
“Jesus!” I said. “Please, slow down! I’m really scared, Barnes!”
“Gianna, we’re being followed,” Barnes said in a low voice. “I want you to lie down on the seat, okay?”
Fear gripped me, and my heart leapt into my throat. I knew I should listen to Barnes, but I couldn’t help feeling curious. Twisting around in the seat, I saw a big, black SUV careening around the Malibu roads behind us. The windows were tinted so deeply that I couldn’t see who was inside. Somehow, that detail made me feel even more frightened, and tears came to my eyes.
; “Gianna!” Barnes yelled. The convertible took a sharp turn, and I crashed against the inside of the passenger door. “Get down! Get down, lie down!”
With my heart in my throat, I did as Barnes asked. I could see his foot on the gas pedal – it was nearly on the floor – and I curled up into a ball on the seat. The tires squealed, and I cried out in fright as I felt one side of the car leave the ground.
“Hold on!” Barnes yelled.
For a horrifying moment, there was nothing. That’s when I heard the crash of metal and glass, a sickening sound that filled my ears. I tried to brace myself against the dashboard, but my body flew out of the car, and then everything went black.
--
God, I’m in so much pain, I thought. What happened? Did I sleep funny? The sluggish thoughts working through my mind were difficult, almost as if I’d been drugged. And my head! Oh, how it ached! I need to get up and take some ibuprofen, I thought, swallowing hard. My mouth was dry, and my tongue felt parched and cracked from lack of moisture. I must be really hungover, I decided. Getting up to use the bathroom would be painful, but necessary.
But when I tried to move, I couldn’t. My eyes flew open.
I wasn’t at home, and Barnes was nowhere in sight. When I looked down, I saw that I was tied with rough rope to a wooden chair. It seemed like I was in the middle of a dingy hotel room. My shoes were missing, and there were cuts and scrapes all over my legs, plus I could feel a throbbing in my head that told me something was very wrong.
For a moment, I thought it was a joke. Like some kind of weird game, or an acting exercise. But when I tried to open my mouth, I realized my lips were taped shut. Gluey duct tape was plastered to my cheeks.
That’s when the tears came. Oh my god, I thought. This isn’t a prank – something really, really bad happened. I struggled to think about my last memory, riding in the car with Barnes.
Then I remembered the big black SUV that had chased us. I hadn’t been looking, but I suddenly knew that Barnes had crashed the car.
And whoever had been driving the SUV had kidnapped me.
Oh my god, I thought as hot tears spilled down my cheeks and dripped off my chin. My nose filled with snot until I could hardly breathe, but as hard as I tried to work the duct tape off my lips, it wouldn’t come. My hands were uselessly tied behind me, and my ankles were tied to the legs of the chair. I rocked my body as hard as I could to one side, hoping to break the fragile wood with the force of my weight. But it was no use. The chair, rickety as it was, wasn’t budging. Not to mention, everything in my body hurt. My limbs ached and trembled, and the brief adrenaline rush that had hit me upon waking up was gone.
Barnes, I thought miserably. I was sick with worry about him – worry and anger that somehow, the bad guys had won. What’s going to happen to me, I thought in fright as I looked around the room. And how the hell am I going to get out of this alive?
Chapter 12
Barnes
Gianna giggled as I rolled her over in bed, pressing her soft form into the pillows before crawling on top of her and kissing her.
“I love you, Barnes,” Gianna said. She winked at me. “Even if you won’t let me call you Barnesy.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s never going to happen,” I said. Deep down, I wouldn’t have minded – Gianna could call me anything she wanted, even an insultingly stupid pet name. But I couldn’t let her know that. After all, I was a man. I had to retain some sort of dignity.
“Do you think we’ll be together forever?” Gianna asked softly. She leaned in and nuzzled my neck before throwing her arm over my chest and snuggling close.
“Baby, of course,” I told her. “We’re married, aren’t we?”
Gianna nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “But it’s Hollywood. If you’re married for six months, that’s considered a lifetime.”
“That’s not gonna be us, baby,” I told her, rumpling her hair. “You and I are a match made in heaven.”
Gianna laughed. “God, if I could see the looks on my parent's faces,” she said. She sighed happily. “I just never thought it would happen for me.”
“Me, either,” I admitted. “But, god, I’m so glad I found you.”
“Sir! Sir! Wake up, sir!”
I was in so much pain that for a moment, I thought I’d died and gone to hell. Everything hurt. My legs hurt. My arms hurt. My stomach hurt. My face hurt – hell, even my hair hurt.
All I could do was groan weakly. Opening my eyes took a Herculean effort, and I did a double-take when I saw the uniformed official squatting in front of me.
“What…” I trailed off, too weak to form a proper sentence.
The officer looked over his shoulder. I followed his glance – that’s when I saw the wreckage of that beautiful vintage car. Smoke was billowing from the ruined hood in fat grey columns, and the exterior was crushed into a hunk of scrap metal that was half the size of the car it had once been.
“You were in a wreck, sir, a bad one,” the paramedic said.
I struggled to sit up, but the paramedic put his hand on my chest and pushed down. “No,” he said firmly. “Don’t sit up!” He warned sharply. “We’re worried that you might have internal injuries, and—“
“Gianna,” I said weakly. “Where’s Gianna?”
The paramedic stared into my eyes for a moment before turning his head. “He’s delirious! We need help, stat!”
“I’m not delirious, where’s my wife?” I asked with all the strength I had left. “She was in the car with me, where is she?”
The paramedic gave me a concerned look. “Sir, there was no one else in the car with you. We arrived at the scene almost immediately – a passing car called 911 and alerted us of the accident.”
“My wife,” I said weakly. “She has to be here – did she get thrown from the car?”
“Sir, I have to ask you, please stay calm!” The paramedic was practically shouting in my face. “I need help!” He yelled over his shoulder. “Come on!”
Another paramedic rushed toward me, and the two men lifted me onto a stretcher. When they hefted me into the air, I felt a staggering pain in my leg that was so great I couldn’t help but cry out.
“You’ve got a nasty compound fracture,” the first paramedic told me. “Just stay calm.”
“Fuck that,” I growled as a hot rush of adrenaline flowed through my body. “I want my fucking wife!”
“Give him something, he’s delirious.”
“No!” I shouted. “No, I can’t go under! I have to stay awake!”
I barely felt the needle jabbing me in the arm. Almost immediately I felt like I was being lowered into a black, thick haze of fog.
“Gianna,” I said weakly. “Gianna, please, where are you?”
It was the last thing I said before blacking out into a cloud of painkillers.
--
“Mr. Harrington?” The sound of a confident female voice penetrated my veil of painkillers and agony. It sounded far away, and I groaned.
“Mr. Harrington? Are you awake?”
“He’s been slipping in and out of consciousness all morning. Don’t press him too hard.”
The voices were growing louder and louder, and becoming steadily annoying, like a nest full of angry wasps. Why won’t they just shut up, I thought as I tried to open my eyes so I could tell them all to go to hell. Why are they bothering me?
“He’s awake,” the female voice said. “Mr. Harrington, can you hear me?”
My only response was a groan. When I managed to open my eyelids, I saw two doctors clad in blue scrubs standing over my bed. The woman had a clipboard in her hands, and she was gazing down at me with concern. The man was older – he had thinning silver hair around his temples and wire-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.
“Guh…” I opened my mouth to tell them to speak, but the only thing that came out was a blur of sound.
“He’s awake,” the female doctor repeated. She smiled at me. “Mr. Harrington, you were in a
very bad accident.”
“Gianna…” Saying her name took almost all of the energy I had. “Where…is…”
“Mr. Harrington, please, don’t struggle,” the female doctor said. She glanced down at my leg. “You had a very severe break.”
That was when I looked down and saw my right leg covered in white plaster. There were several silver pins sticking out, and when I shifted in the hospital bed, agony shot up my spine. The pain was dreadful, and I bit my lip to avoid crying out. Sharp blood washed over my tongue, and the doctor frowned.