by Ruby Vincent
But I have to get that phone. Text my boys and tell them where I am before it’s too late.
I bit my lip—hard. The sharp rush of pain steadied my mind.
Slowly. Inch by inch. I could do this.
I looked to the clock, counting down a full thirty minutes to ensure he was in a deep sleep before I dare try.
Five minutes.
Eight.
Sixteen.
Twenty-one.
Twenty-six.
My chest tightened under his weight. Mal’s snores had evened out into a steady, rumbling thrum. He was out and—
Thirty minutes.
It was time.
I moved my hand under my pillow, gripping it tight.
Slow, I told myself. Just go slow.
Mal’s cheek slid across my chest. I dropped my free leg to the floor, using its leverage against the frame to draw me out.
He hit on my shoulder and grunted.
I froze, breath trapped in my lungs, and he stirred.
Shifting, his leg fell between my legs, and his head sank to land firmly on my forearm.
I didn’t move for a full five minutes.
I can do this. I will get to that phone.
My toes dug into the carpet, anchoring me out as I replaced my arm with the pillow in one smooth move.
Pushing myself up, my heart jackhammered in my chest looking down at Mal’s sleeping figure. I was only partially out. My other leg was imprisoned between him.
I clutched the nightstand and my own restraints, easing myself out.
Both feet dropped to the floor, and I didn’t waste a second. I padded on the balls of my feet, bent over his pants, and patted around until I found them. I darted across to the bathroom.
I closed the door as far as possible without engaging the lock. I couldn’t chance even a click. Couldn’t risk a sound.
I tapped the phone awake. The brightness was a beacon on my face.
Hurriedly, I lowered the intensity. My fingers shook uncontrollably, opening his phone. I nearly dropped it twice.
The police— No. If Mal hears me speaking, I’d be dead before they arrived.
Text.
Carter. Nathan. Preston. And they would be there. They’d come for me.
Me: Fox Hill Rd. Blue house. Boat. SJTJ.
I hit send, and then deleted every trace and blocked the number.
The floor creaked.
I whipped around, hands flying behind my back, as light flooded the bathroom. Mal filled the doorway—very much awake. Jeweled pools clear and narrowed on me.
“What are you doing?”
“I... had to use the bathroom,” I forced through numb lips.
Empty hands flushed the toilet and turned on the faucet. I washed under his watchful eye, avoiding contact in the mirror. Mal didn’t let me get as far as the towel.
“Let’s go.”
He grabbed my wet wrist, hauling me out of the bathroom. Behind his back, I tugged the phone from my dress’s belt and tossed it on his pants.
I coughed loudly to cover the sound.
His movements were quick and efficient as he forced me into my restraints.
I wasn’t going anywhere.
Mal laid his pillow on my lap and his rumbling snores soon returned.
Please. This time. One last time.
Come for me.
Chapter Thirteen
Nathan
Condensation collected on the mouth, joining small droplets to make heavy tears that raced down the side.
The beer and I had been in a stare down for an hour. It was almost obscene how it seduced me. Cool, wet, and dripping. Slim body adorned in bright colors and daring me to taste.
I never categorized my drinking as a problem. It was never something I had to do, but something I wanted to do.
I wanted to forget as my mother did. Erasing chunks of her life allowed Mom to smile and laugh as she spoke to the son she didn’t recognize. If she recalled everything that had brought us here, I’d never see that smile again.
Forgetting was the way to get through my life. And it’d be the only way I’d get to sleep.
My thumb traced a path through the condensation.
I let Fuller escape with Belle.
I was too late chasing down their car.
I sat here fucking useless with no money, security, or connections to track her down.
The colonel was only too happy to remind me of those facts.
“You have only yourself to blame, Nathan,” he said. “You were there and you let your friend get hurt and that poor girl taken away. I told you to toughen up. Take better care of yourself. Learn to protect what’s yours. Maybe if you had listened you wouldn’t be in this position.
“Don’t expect me to step in and clean up your mess. The police have the situation in hand. Fly back with Carter,” he delivered as a parting shot. “I’m not sending the plane.”
My phone sat next to the bottle, singing a louder song than the beer.
You failed her, Nathan. Confirmed every fear she had that when she needed a savior, no one would be there. The colonel said nothing that wasn’t true. I was right there... and I let her go.
If that wasn’t reason to drink, what was?
I picked up the bottle.
My phone went off, flashing a number I didn’t recognize. I opened and read the message.
Then I read it again.
Then I dropped the beer on the table—already up and running as it rolled off and shattered on the balcony.
I bolted down the hall, skidding to a stop in front of Carter’s door.
“Wake up!” I pounded the wood. “Wake your ass—”
“I’m not sleeping!” The door flew open and an irate Carter stood in its place. “What is it?”
“We have to get Preston,” I said, shoving the phone on him. “It’s Belle.”
Carter chased after me, reading the message aloud. “Fox Hill Road? Where is that?”
“It’s on the island. Near the orange grove,” I shouted over my shoulder. “She’s still here!”
Preston’s door received the same treatment. We banged on it, shouting through the wood for him to get up. He threw open the door at the same time another door did.
Rosalie came out into the hall. “What on earth is going on?”
“I got a message from Belle,” I said to them both. “She never left in that plane. He’s keeping her in a blue house on Fox Hill Road.”
“What?” Preston snatched the phone from me. “How do you know it’s her? I’ve been getting bullshit texts all day even though I said they only had three hours.”
“SJTJ,” I said. “Sir Jackass of the Thumpington Jackasses. It’s her, man.”
Preston let out a shout of joy. “Yeah, it’s her.” He raced into his room and grabbed his shoes. “Let’s go.”
“Go?!” Rosalie snagged her son’s collar, snatching him back. “Where exactly do you think you’re racing off to in the middle of the night?!”
Shuffling sounded on the other side of the doors. We were soon joined by Mr. Desai, Belle’s parents, and Mr. Hendrix.
“She’s not spending another second with him,” Preston said. “We’re going to get her.”
“Whoever has her is armed and willing to kill,” Rosalie screeched. “You are not going anywhere!” She snatched the phone from him. “Mrs. Adler, the boys believe this is a message from your daughter. We’ll get the police captain out of bed if I have to drag him out myself.”
She hurried down the hall with her but not before shooting us one last look. “Do not think of leaving this house.”
Preston whirled on his father. “Dad—”
“You can’t believe I’d disagree with your mother,” he said. “The three of you, inside Preston’s room now.”
He must have caught the look on our faces—that the three of us could take him.
The haggard lines on his face softened. “We all want her safe, son. I’ll never be able to look the Adlers in t
he eye again knowing one of my own men handed her over to a killer. We’ll have the police on that location within the hour, I swear to you.” He gestured inside. “Please.”
Silently, we walked in, letting him shut the door behind us.
“Are we really going to sit in here?” Carter burst out.
“What are we supposed to do?” Preston threw himself in his desk chair, tearing at his hair. “We don’t have guns—” His ringtone cut him off.
“I don’t care if he rigged the place to explode,” Carter said. “If Belle’s still on the island, those idiots have been chasing their tails for the last two days. We’re trusting them to save her?”
Preston didn’t reply.
“Preston,” I said. “We’ve got to be there. I have an idea for defending ourselves if he does whip out his gun.”
He shot up. “Guys, look at this.”
“What? Is it from Belle?”
We bent over the phone.
“Is this for real?” I asked.
“How do we find out?” Carter put in.
Preston hit reply. “I think we’ll find out soon enough.”
BELLE
“Get up!”
Pain erupted in my face, ripping me screaming from sleep.
“What are you doing?!”
“What did you do?!” he roared. “You sent a message! The fucking cops are coming!”
My chest heaved, forcing out rapid pants that chased away the remains of my upright sleep.
He knows? How does he know?
“Cops?” I repeated. “I don’t hear sirens. No one is coming.”
He shoved his phone in my face. “You sent a text.”
“What text? When could I have done that? You don’t let me near your phone!”
Mal’s face was red and swelling with rage. His burn to do worse than slap me shone in his eyes. I strained in my bonds, panic rising like bile.
“Last night,” he hissed. “When you were in the bathroom.”
“You walked in on me, Mal. I didn’t have a phone. My hands were empty and you saw for yourself. Immediately after, you put me in these!” I wrenched my hands. “So how could I have done it? Huh? You know I didn’t,” I flung. “You just like hitting me. Hurting me. You say you love me but it’s a lie!”
His expression morphed as I spoke. Anger. Suspicion. Unsurety. And finally whatever gazed back at me now.
“You make me do these things, Arabella.” Spittle showered my nose. “You lie, and you run, and you cheat when I’m the one who’s been there for you. I took care of you when you had no one. Who else would have been willing to raise another man’s child?”
“Where is that child?” I rushed out. “Where’s Belle?”
He hardened before my eyes. “She’s dead. Because of you.”
Mal freed me, tossing me over his shoulder. I thrashed as he carried me outside and onto the dock. “She is dead because you tried to leave me. You force me to do terrible things, Arabella. But I’ll admit this time, I’ll do it with a smile on my face.”
Heaving up the ladder, Malcolm climbed on and brought me into a small, narrow cabin without windows. I was dumped face-first on the bed. I pushed up to him standing over me.
“If I find out you sent that message, your boyfriend dies. Doesn’t matter which. I’ll tell him to have his fun choosing.”
He ducked out. I heard the sound of a bolt sliding into place. “Sit tight, a chroí. One more day and this will all be over.”
My new prison had no clock and no escape.
A bed, a small sofa attached to the wall, and a door that opened into a bathroom with a toilet and sink. I checked every inch for a weapon, phone, or even a spoon to throw at him.
Nothing.
The whole time I heard him above me, getting on and off the boat. I gave up the search as the engine hummed to life.
I bolted up, scrabbling at the door handle.
We’re leaving? He said we have one more day. We can’t go. I rammed my shoulder into the door. They’ll never find me.
I pounded and screamed. Flung myself against the wood until I bruised. The door didn’t budge.
Time passed.
Hours by my rumbling stomach’s estimation.
I guess I should be glad he left me access to a toilet this time.
Despair bowled me over, weakening my knees and sending me to the floor. I dropped my head on the couch, letting the first tear fall.
We were leaving the cove behind.
It was too much to ask for number four.
THE CABIN DOOR CREAKED open.
“Get out.”
“Why?” I croaked. My nose was stuffed from crying.
I raised my pounding head, blinking through bleary eyes, and the sight of him calm and relax surged a flood of hatred the likes of which I’d never felt.
“Get the fuck away from me.”
“There’s no need for that.”
Mal reached for me and I smacked his hand away.
“I said don’t touch me!”
To my surprise, he backed up, arms raised. “I just want to show you something, love. I think it will make you happy.”
“It won’t,” I said. “Go away.”
“Your search and rescue team. Don’t you want to know what happened to them?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, sitting up straighter. “What’s it matter now? We left the cove.”
“We haven’t gone as far as you think.” With that, he left, leaving the door wide open for me to follow.
Haven’t gone as far as I think?
I hesitated a few more beats and then pushed myself up.
Mal loomed above me, his hand swept out. “See for yourself.”
I stepped onto the deck and looked to where he pointed.
“What? I—” I twisted, sweeping the shoreline. There was no mistake. We were tied by the dock. Right in front of the little blue shack. “How are we back here?”
“I went out to sea and sailed around in circles a few times, waiting for the cops to come, confirm the place is empty, and leave. I removed the food, trash, and clothes. Quickly wiped down our prints. There was nothing for them to find.”
“But... they wouldn’t just go,” I whispered. “They would watch the place. Make sure we weren’t coming back.”
Mal cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hello? Hello?” he called. “Anyone out there? Malcolm Byrne speaking. I’m here with Arabella Byrne. Anyone coming to arrest me?”
The whistling howl of the wind was his reply.
He hummed. “Guess not.”
I inched away, eyes rounding as the truth hit me before I asked. “What did you do?”
Malcolm smiled—that heartbreakingly beautiful smile that ruined my life. “I made you a promise, a chroí, that we’d be together and no one would get in our way. You did not give me much time”—he looked around—“disappearing into this shithole a week before I planned for us to leave Bracknell.
“But in the end, it didn’t matter. Money talks just as loud here. For those that couldn’t hear it, the threat of making an enemy out of the Byrne family worked just as well.”
“You bought the police.”
My voice sounded far away—as if reaching me through glass.
“For much less than you’re thinking,” he replied. “It’s an atrocity how little we pay our law enforcement. Why put the effort in catching me when helping me pays so much better? Yes, they’ve been putting on a good show. Interviewing witnesses. Calling in the FBI, only to discover a security tape of us leaving the island just in time that moved the investigation to the mainland.”
Mal laughed. “That was a particular stroke of genius on my part. I found a couple that matched our basic description and gave them an all-expense-paid vacation to anywhere they wanted to go. All they had to do was get on the plane at that exact time, and not look up.”
“Why?” I asked so softly the waves tried to silence me. “Why can’t you let me go?”
Hi
s handsome face contorted. “Because you’re mine. You refuse to accept it but that makes it no less true.” The humor was fading quickly, disappearing as the mask peeled back. “The wrong person intercepted the message you sent. Fox Hill Road. Blue house. Boat. They had to come and search, but we won’t lose sleep over them coming back. At least, not any time soon. They’ll be busy.”
An edge crept into his voice, sounding alarm. “What does that mean?”
“It means I always keep my promises.” Malcolm held his phone up to my eyes. I looked at the photo—
—and screamed.
“The police will be too focused on finding your boyfriend’s killer to chase a couple that got away.”
There was no mistaking it. Nathan—my Nathan—looked into the camera without seeing it. Blood dripped down his face, soaking a dark red halo into his pillow.
I swung, smacking the phone out of his hand and overboard. He wasn’t prepared for that, or for me to launch at him. We went down in a heap. “You killed him!” I screamed into his wide eyes. “I loved him!”
“No!” Mal backhanded me. “Don’t you dare fucking cry for him! I’m your husband. You love me.”
I tumbled across the deck, recognizing the pain, but feeling none of it.
Nathan was gone. My first real love. The boy who made love to me under the orange trees, made me laugh after I’d forgotten how, and sheltered me in his beach house—safe in our refuge from the world.
“I’ll never love you!” I spat out a mouthful of blood. “Carter is funny, smart and passionate. Preston understands me in ways I didn’t know myself. And N-Nathan,” I cried. “He was twice the man you could ever be even before you became this monster. That’s real love, Mal, and it kills you that you’ve never had it. Not from me, and not from my mother.”
Roaring, Mal bounded across in two steps. I knew it was coming. Accepted every word would seal my fate. But what did it matter?
He clamped my throat—his eyes bulging as mine did.
My fist cracked on his nose. Mal stumbled back, loosening his hold, and I made a run for the dock.
Something struck my ankles and I was falling. The deck rose up to meet me, smashing mercilessly against my forehead. Groaning, I willed myself to move. Run. Anything.