by Tia Wylder
“Whatever my darling wife wants,” Barnes said. He looked at me over the edges of his sunglasses and smirked. “Has anyone ever told you how remarkably hot you are?”
I flushed, but I couldn’t keep a grin from spreading over my face. “Not today,” I teased. “And be careful – you’re going to make my ego swell up like a balloon.”
“Good,” Barnes said. He sounded content and happy. “I want my wife to know how absolutely sexy she is all the time.”
I rolled my eyes. “Now you’re just being corny,” I said. “Come on – let’s go swimming.”
It was hard to tear myself away from my soft, hot towel. The sand burned the soles of my feet, and I broke into a jog as I ran toward the shore, shielding my eyes from the sun’s bright rays. In all my life in Boston, I’d never been much of a sun enthusiast. I’d worn sunscreen every day – even in the winter! – and I’d always teased Diane about getting skin cancer. But now that I was in California, it was like a new way of life.
Barnes caught up with me. He rushed into the surf, and I laughed, following close behind. Barnes yelped and ran towards me, putting his hands around my waist and lifting me high into the air. I barely had time to cry out before he dropped me in the warm, salty water.
“Ha,” Barnes said, a triumphant smirk on his face. “I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I first saw you in that bikini!”
With a groan, I got to my feet. I felt a momentary flicker of annoyance but the boyish grin on Barnes’s face was contagious, and soon we were giggling together as the ocean pulled and sucked at our legs. I reached for Barnes’s hand, and we waded in deeper until the water was around our waists. The waves were crashing far beyond in the distance, and while it was almost frightening, I knew that Barnes would take care of me.
“Are you scared?” Barnes asked. “The Pacific is so much different than the Atlantic.”
“No,” I lied. “It’s beautiful. I’m happy just to be here.”
Barnes swept me up in his arms and kissed me passionately, like something out of an old movie. In that moment, I forgot that we weren’t the only people on the beach…or left in the world. I wrapped my legs around his waist and clung to his wet, muscular body as his tongue slipped into my mouth. Delicious pleasure crawled down my spine, and I shuddered as Barnes slipped a hand inside one cup of my flimsy bikini top. His thumb rubbed over my nipple, and I moaned, breaking the kiss and throwing my head back.
“We’re going to get arrested for public indecency,” Barnes said with a smirk. He lowered me back into the water, and I closed my eyes and breathed in the delectable salty smell of the air.
“I don’t care,” I said happily. “As long as I’m with you, I’ll be having a great time.”
Barnes snorted. “I doubt jail is much fun,” he replied. “Even in Malibu.”
I giggled. “They probably serve like, green smoothies and wheat grass shakes for breakfast,” I said, grinning mischievously at my husband. “And they probably have mandatory hot yoga and stone massages after quiet time.”
“Okay, well, I have to admit – that doesn’t sound too bad,” Barnes said. He winked at me. “And you’d look pretty cute in one of those black-and-white striped outfits.”
I rolled my eyes. “They all wear orange now,” I informed him. “At least, that’s what they wear on television.”
“And you are the expert,” Barnes said. He jerked his head toward our beach towels. “Feel like lying back down for a while? I could get some sun before we leave the beach.”
Barnes took my hand, and we waded out of the water. Just as I paused to wring my hair out on the wet sand, a group of girls walked over to me with shy expressions on their faces.
“Can I help you?” I asked. “Is everything okay?”
One of the girls stepped forward. She cleared her throat and blushed. “Yeah,” she said. “Um, I’m so sorry if this is awkward. But are you Gianna DiFaba, you know, Marybeth from Heaven Cove?”
I flushed with pleasure.
“She is,” Barnes said before I could reply.
“Oh my god,” the girl squealed. She turned back to her friends and nodded in excitement. “It’s her! It’s really her!”
A happy, warm glow spread through my body. It was almost as good as the afterglow from sex.
“Can we have your autograph?” The lead girl bubbled. “Please?”
“Of course,” I said. “Do you have a pen?”
The girl reached into her beach bag and pulled out a ballpoint pen. She handed it over, still beaming, along with a dog-eared paperback.
“I don’t care where you sign it,” she said happily. “Thank you so much! This means the world to me!”
It felt more than a little silly to be signing my name in another person’s book, but I flipped open to the blank pages at the back and signed ‘Gianna DiFaba’ in big, swirling letters.
“We watch your show every day,” another girl said, stepping forward. “We love it, especially since you joined the cast!”
“Thank you,” I said. I cleared my throat and reached for Barnes. “And this is Barnes Harrington, he’s written some of the episodes, and recently he’s started—“
“Directing!” The girls squealed in unison. “Oh my god, I can’t believe it’s you!”
Barnes chuckled. “It’s me, all right,” he said. He smirked at me. “Gianna, we should get going. I want you to look over the script for next week.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “It was nice to meet all of you.”
The girls were still staring up at me and Barnes like they’d won the Malibu Beach Lottery.
“Bye,” one of them said reluctantly. The leader of the group turned and slowly walked away.
After a few seconds, the other girls followed her.
“Wow,” Barnes said. He whistled. “So, looks like you’ve really made it, huh.”
I rolled my eyes. “It was flattering,” I admitted. “But I wasn’t exactly expecting them to go so crazy over me.”
“Or me,” Barnes added drily. “Shall we?” He offered me his arm, and we began climbing the hill of sand in the direction of our towels. In the short time we’d spent in the water, the sun had made the terry-cloth hotter than ever, and I purred with contentment as I lay down and wriggled into the sand, making a perfect little Gianna-shaped crater to lie in. I rolled onto my belly and untied the strings of my bikini.
“What?” I asked innocently when Barnes gave me a sharp look. “No tan lines this way.”
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.