by Jax Abbey
“Holy crap, Stella! Why didn’t you tell me? This is better than any of the crazy stuff that happens to me!” Valerie exclaimed.
Stella shrugged. “The whole thing has been pretty fucking weird. Excuse my French.”
“Maybe he’s just using her as a rebound hookup to forget about you?” Valerie suggested. “No wonder Blondie and Mr. Hot Stuff always looked so mysterious; they’re criminals!” Her voice dropped an octave. “Is it wrong for me to say that it makes them even hotter?”
Stella glared at her. “Finn stood me up, remember? We don’t like them. At all.”
“Right. Of course not. Not one bit,” Valerie said unconvincingly. She hesitated. “So this means I can’t ask Mr. Hot Stuff out?”
Stella took a pillow from the couch and whacked her friend with it. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”
“Because I put a smile on your face when you need it. And I tell you the truth. Which reminds me, that eye shadow you wore yesterday didn’t work for you.”
“Val—”
“Hey,” Phoebe cut in. “Can we get back to the original subject? Stella’s in love with the guy who kidnapped her, and this guy’s friend kidnapped me.”
“Isn’t that called Stockholm Syndrome?” Valerie asked.
Stella waved her hands in the air. “Why does everyone keep saying that? I’m not in love with anyone. It’s just—Finn made me feel a certain way. It was nice, but now it’s over. I just wanted to tell you guys so I could get it all out of my system and move on with my life.”
“Uh huh,” Valerie said at the same Phoebe chimed in with, “Sure.”
Stella unfolded herself from the couch and started picking up empty plates and cups. “It’s over, and I’m ready to move on. It never would have worked anyway; we’re totally different from each other.”
“Did you come up with that line before or after he broke your heart?” Valerie asked. “Because you always get super domestic with all this baking and cleaning business when you’re trying to distract yourself from something you don’t want to deal with. Remember when your mom told you Paolo was the same age as you? You brought muffins in to the bar every day for a week. Or what about when you met Derek’s mother for the first time? I never even knew there were that many types of pie—”
“Okay, we get it,” Stella said.
“Can the pie thing happen again? I love strawberry pie,” Phoebe said.
Valerie rolled her eyes. “My point is, just let yourself be upset. Let it all out instead of sweeping it under the rug. Just because you finally confided in us doesn’t mean it will erase your feelings.”
Stella blinked. “That is not what I thought you were going to say at all. I was expecting something like, ‘Climb onto the next saddle and keep it moving!’”
Valerie flashed a wicked grin. “That was coming next.”
“I’ll take your advice into consideration,” Stella said. She took the dishes into the kitchen, dumped them in the sink, then ran back into the living room.
“I just can’t stop going over the fact that he gave me his grandmother’s recipes. Why would he do that, and then turn around and hook up with some other woman?”
Valerie shrugged. “Who knows how men think? I certainly don’t.”
Stella’s phone trilled on the coffee table. She leaned forward to look at the screen, but didn’t recognize the number.
“Who is it?” Valerie asked.
“Maybe it’s Finn calling to explain,” Phoebe said.
“If that’s the case don’t you dare answer it!” Valerie cut in. “Let him suffer.”
“I don’t recognize the number, but it’s a Nevada area code,” Stella said as the phone beeped. “Whoever it was left a voicemail.”
Valerie and Phoebe looked at the phone hungrily, ready to pounce. Stella scooped it up. “I’m going to listen to it in the kitchen…alone.”
Phoebe opened her mouth as if to complain, so Stella hurried to the other room. Once there, she pressed the play button and held the phone up to her ear.
“Yeah, Stacey, hi. This is Alex, a friend of Finn’s. I was wondering if you’ve seen him today. I was with him last night when you made plans to meet up for dinner today. He said he’d stop by before, but he never made it, and his phone is off. Could you just let me know if you’ve seen him? Thanks.”
The message ended, and Stella stood holding the phone to her ear for a moment longer. She finally walked back into the living room.
“You guys, that was the weirdest message,” she said. “It was from Finn’s friend.”
“Was it Will? I wanna rip that guy to shreds,” Phoebe said. “If I had the chance, his eyebrows wouldn’t be the only things missing. I’d tear off each of his limbs, and make a necklace with his teeth.”
Stella and Valerie stared at her.
“What?” Phoebe asked, the picture of innocence. “I went through a very traumatic experience.”
“Who’s Will? Oh—Billy! No, it wasn’t that creep, but when we find him, you can get in line for the ass-kicking. It was Alex,” Stella said. Seeing Valerie’s confused expression, Stella added, “Mr. Hot Stuff.”
“Ah! So now you have his number, and can pass it on to a lonely single friend, right?” Valerie asked with a wide smile.
“That’s exactly what I’m not going to do. Come on, guys, listen. Alex said Finn told him he would stop by and see him before he left town today, but he never showed. Finn agreed to meet me for dinner, and never showed. When I called, I didn’t even get him on the phone—just some woman who said he was busy.”
Phoebe and Valerie exchanged a look.
“Soooo?” Valerie asked.
Stella bit her lip. “I think something’s wrong. I feel it in my gut.”
“Maybe he’s being held hostage by the bald guy.” Phoebe’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “Holy shit! It was her! The voice—it was her!”
Stella glanced at Valerie. Maybe Phoebe wasn’t as okay with everything as she said she was. Should I talk to Derek about counseling?
“The woman who was there when I was kidnapped! That was her voice when I called Finn back. Now that I think about it, she asked me about you. It sounded like she was jealous.”
“Oh my God!” Valerie exclaimed. “This is better than any soap opera episode I’ve ever seen. I feel like I need some popcorn, but these empanadas will do.”
Stella waved at Valerie to be quiet. “Phoebe, what are you talking about?”
Phoebe hesitated. “After you called Finn and threw your phone, I picked it up and hit redial. I recognized the voice that answered, but I couldn’t place it until now.”
At least she has the decency to look ashamed, Stella thought. “What are you saying?”
“I bet you he’s at the mansion with her and the bald guy.”
“Maybe he defected to the other side like his friend,” Valerie suggested.
“No. He values loyalty; he wouldn’t betray Julian.” Stella bit her lip.
Valerie arched an eyebrow. “And you know this after spending a few days with him?”
“Yeah.” Stella’s voice was firm. “I do.”
Valerie waved her empanada in the air. “So, what happens now? We call the police?”
“And tell them what? Even if we did tell the truth, do you think they’d believe us or do anything about it? Finn wouldn’t even be considered a missing person until after twenty-four hours, and who knows what could happen by then,” Stella said.
“You could call Derek,” Phoebe suggested.
Valerie rolled her eyes. “Gee, that’s a great idea: call your old boyfriend to rescue your new boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend. And I’m not calling Derek…not yet, anyway,” Stella said.
Phoebe jumped off the couch. “You can’t just leave him there! That bald guy was scary as hell. He acts all nice, but his eyes are creepy.”
“So what do you suggest we do?” Stella asked.
Phoebe crossed her arms. “W
e go get him ourselves.”
“Absolutely not. I’m calling Alex back, and he can figure out what to do.”
Phoebe stuck her lip out and plopped back onto the couch as Stella dialed.
Stella paced the floor of the living room. The call went straight to voicemail. She hung up and looked at Valerie and Phoebe.
“Voicemail. What should I do?”
“What Phoebe said—we rescue him,” Valerie replied.
“But—”
“Answer me this: if the situation were reversed, would he come to your rescue?”
Stella thought about all of the times during their journey she’d caught Finn looking at her out of the corner of his eye. The times he’d teased her, and showed her he wasn’t as much of a badass as he pretended to be, like when he opened her car door or pulled her chair out. The gentle way he’d kissed her yesterday. The envelope of family recipes on her dresser.
She nodded slowly. “We’re going to break him out.”
Finn, 8:43 p.m.
This time when Finn blinked his eyes open, the lashes of his right eye were sticky and a red haze of blood clouded his vision. He felt a stinging sensation above his right eyebrow.
The new bodyguard, who von Rothschild addressed as Marc, and Tobias had done a number on Finn, tying his legs to the chair’s, then taking turns beating him. Finn could only imagine what he would see when he looked in the mirror—if he ever got the chance to look in a mirror again. The cold, twisted feeling in his stomach told him this was some sick, G-rated preview of what they had in store for him after the three of them left the mansion. Thankfully, the two men had grown tired of beating the shit out of him—at least for the time being—and left the room.
Finn really wished he could just pass out for good, so he wouldn’t be conscious for any more beatings or bullshit from von Rothschild. Who would miss him except for his grandma, Alex, and possibly Julian—his uncle? Would Stella miss him?
Oh, shit. Finn hadn’t even thought about the fact that he was supposed to be going to Stella’s trailer for dinner. He had lost all sense of time. It was probably well after the time they had planned to meet. She probably thought he’d stood her up; it wasn’t like she had any reason to think otherwise.
Finn heard a strangled shout from von Rothschild’s office and wondered what the hell was happening now. He knew working with the FBI was a bad idea. He’d even expressed his fears to Julian, but of course Julian had wanted to do whatever it took to keep himself out of prison. And now Finn was here, tied up, awaiting an unknown but terrifying fate while Julian was probably sitting back in his office, feet propped up on his desk, drinking scotch without a care in the world.
The door to von Rothschild’s office opened, and Finn tensed. It wasn’t so much the beatings that bothered him—he’d been beaten senseless in juvie on a few occasions—but von Rothschild was alternating physical pain with mental torment like some kind of cruel and unusual wartime punishment. Finn released the breath he’d been holding as Marc dragged Billy’s unconscious form into the room.
“What the fuck?” Finn asked as Marc plunked Billy into the chair across from him. He started zip tying one of Billy’s wrists to the chair. “Are you all turning on each other now?”
Marc made no show that he’d heard Finn. Without a word, he completed his task and exited the room the way he had come in. Billy’s head lolled against his chest. Finn didn’t see any visible injuries, so that was good. He was still mad, and Billy might still be a jackass, but he was Finn’s jackass cousin if von Rothschild was to be believed.
“Billy? Billy?” Finn tried to jerk his chair closer to Billy’s, but the restraints around his legs kept him from moving too far. Billy must have served whatever purpose von Rothschild needed him for, and now he was getting rid of him. “Wake up! We need to find a way out of here.”
Billy was out cold, and Finn’s yelling wasn’t going to do anything but possibly attract unwanted attention. He shut up and contemplated the situation. Finn still knew every little nook and cranny of the mansion thanks to his memorization of the blueprints, but what good did that do him when his limbs were tied to a chair in the middle of the library? Maybe Billy knew something Finn didn’t after working so closely with von Rothschild. Finn really needed him to wake up, preferably before the return of von Rothschild’s henchmen.
Finn waited, tensing at every small noise outside either of the entrances to the library. When was Billy going to come to? The little shit had always been a heavy sleeper. After a few more minutes, Billy’s head lifted and his eyelashes fluttered.
“Where am I?” Billy asked, blinking quickly. His head swiveled around before his confused gaze landed on Finn.
“You’re in von Rothschild’s library, Sleeping Beauty. Now that you’re awake, tell me how to fucking get out of here.”
Billy tried to stand, but couldn’t move very far due to his wrists being restrained behind the chair. “No, no, no! She got me!”
“Claudia? Did she Tase you too? Good.”
Billy struggled against the zip ties. “It wasn’t a Taser. It was a stun gun. Fifteen million volts.”
“Jesus!” Finn had learned some self-defense skills that he had found increasingly useful as of late, but they were no match against a scorned woman with a stun gun. “I never would have pegged Claudia as the type to get her hands dirty. Vengeful bitch? Yes. Vengeful bitch with weapons? Not so much.”
“Well, bro, you must’ve done a number on her. She has, like, five of those things. She was just standing there in her dad’s office, about to put on lipstick, and next thing I know, she lunges at me, I get zapped, and I wake up here.” Billy gave Finn an impish half grin.
Finn scowled at him. “I’m not your ‘bro.’ Just because we’re both tied up in the same room doesn’t make us cool. Not even close.”
“What if we were in different rooms?” The grin slipped from Billy’s face as Finn let the silence stretch on between them. “Look, I’m really sorry. Like, super crazy sorry. If I had known you were my cousin—”
“How would that have changed anything?” Finn spat. “I still didn’t grow up like you and Alex. I’m still a bastard. I’d still be me.”
“But you’d be blood—”
“I’ve treated you like my little brother since we met, Billy, blood or no. It doesn’t change anything. And it definitely doesn’t change the fact that I’m royally pissed at you, and once we get out of this—if we get out of this—I may kill you myself.”
“Finn, I said I’m sorry. I made a douche move. I’m really sorry. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.” Billy’s voice broke. “How are we going to get out of here?”
Finn sighed. “I don’t know, Billy. I’ve been sitting here trying to come up with something, and I’ve got nada. I was hoping you’d have an idea since you’ve spent a lot more time in this place and with the guy than I have.”
“I don’t know anything, Finn. I don’t. He never told me anything; I was just some kind of puppet.” Billy’s eyes looked watery.
Finn was still angry, but part of him felt for the kid. “I know the feeling,” he said. “Look, I need you to keep it together. We’re gonna find a way out of this. Between the two of us we can come up with something.”
Billy sniffed. “I don’t want the last words I said to my dad to basically be ‘Go fuck yourself.’”
Finn gave him a faint smile. “They won’t be.”
STELLA, 9:35 P.M.
“I just called Alex and got his voicemail again. I left a message telling him we think Finn is at von Rothschild’s,” Stella said.
She paced the living room floor, wringing her hands. Valerie sat in the middle of the couch, typing furiously on Phoebe’s laptop while Phoebe rested on the arm of the couch.
“Okay, I found this von Rothschild guy’s address,” Valerie said. “And I found a picture of the house on Google Maps. It’s huge!”
“How far is it from here?” Stella asked.
“Fift
een minutes,” Phoebe read over Valerie’s shoulder. “Sweet! Let’s change into all-black outfits like they do on TV and get this show on the road.”
“Wait a minute—you’re not going anywhere,” Stella said. “You’re going to stay here where you’ll be safe and sound.”
Phoebe thrust out her lower lip. “No, I’m not. You’re acting like I’m twelve. I’ll be eighteen in a few months; I’m not some little kid you have to hide things from.”
Stella stopped her pacing and placed a hand on Phoebe’s shoulder. “It’s not that I think you’re too young. It’s just that I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you. Can’t you just cut me a break and stay here? I have enough to worry about as it is.”
“There’s no way I’m letting you go in there without me. I need to repay Baldie and his friends for their ‘kindness.’ Besides, I’ve been in the house and around these people. You can’t do this without me.”
“She’s right,” Valerie said. “We need her.”
Stella sighed.
“If it makes you feel better, we can take weapons,” Phoebe said.
“The idea of you with a weapon does not make me feel any better,” Stella replied.
Valerie raised her hand. “Well, it makes me feel better. In fact…”
She put the laptop down on the coffee table and picked up her purse. After rummaging around in it for a few seconds, she pulled out her keychain. “I’ve got my weapon right here.”
“Your keys? What, are you going to use them as makeshift brass knuckles?” Stella asked sarcastically.
“It’s pepper spray. I just press this little button—”
“Don’t!” Stella covered her face with her hands.
“Relax; I’ve never had to use it before. Let’s hope I won’t have to use it tonight either.”
“Wait a second—you’ve never used it before? This is definitely not a good idea,” Stella said, eyeing the pepper spray keychain as if it might go off at any moment.
Valerie ignored her. “So, Phoebe, what’s your weapon?”