Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LUCY
This doesn’t feel real.
My dad sick. In heart failure. Possibly dying.
Not my dad.
I know at thirty-five, it’s something I have to consider. That no matter how healthy my parents seem, how active, they aren’t going to be around forever. But I thought I had more time. They’re only sixty-five. People are living into their eighties and nineties these days.
But then again, Kali’s dad passed away when she was in high school. And Remy’s parents were both gone before they hit seventy. So it can happen.
I just didn’t think it would happen to my parents.
Stupid, na?ve Lucy, always expecting the best. I should know better by now, after all I’ve seen. Sometimes bad things just happen, and there’s nothing we can do about it.
But what if it’s my fault?
My dad’s been so worried about me. What if the stress of finding out his only child was nearly killed made his heart worse?
The guilt is tremendous. Crushing. Suffocating.
A sob bubbles up in my throat, but I swallow it down. I don’t want to show up at my parents’ house in tears, giving them one more thing to worry about.
When my mom called, I was so excited to talk to her. I couldn’t wait to tell her it was safe to come home. And I’ve been eagerly anticipating one of our long lunches together, so I can really tell her all about Xavier. About how much I love him. How I’m secretly hoping he’ll propose before too long.
What if my dad doesn’t make it to my wedding?
This time, a little sob escapes, so I bite my lip hard, hoping the sting of pain will be a distraction.
Xavier squeezes my hand. “It’s going to be okay, Luce.” He glances away from the road to look at me. Compassion and concern soften his gaze. “Don’t assume the worst. Okay? Let’s just get there, talk to your parents, and figure out things from there.”
My voice wobbles despite my best efforts to keep it steady. “Okay.”
“I already texted Matt,” he says. “He’s researching the best heart surgeons all over the country. So if there’s someone better who can see your dad, Matt will get him in.”
I don’t doubt Matt for a second. And I know my parents can afford to travel anywhere for the best care. But I’m so worried. What if it’s too late? Even the most skilled doctor can only do so much. And the way my mom explained, her voice shaking as she said, “Your father… he’s very ill. We didn’t realize… but he’s gone downhill so quickly. I’m scared for him.”
She’s scared for him.
God. I feel like I’m about to vomit all over the car.
“Lucy, sweetheart.” As we come to a stoplight, Xavier looks over at me again. “I know you’re panicking. But it’s not going to help.” His thumb strokes across the back of my hand. “Just try to breathe. Okay?”
He looks so strong. So confident. Even the way he handles the steering wheel with one hand—he’s been holding mine with the other since we got in the car—is totally controlled.
“Okay.” I take a deep breath, at the same time trying to absorb some of his confidence. I try to remind myself that lots of people have heart surgery and come out just fine. That medications can work miracles. And what’s that saying Xavier’s high school coach used to tell him? Don’t borrow trouble?
“I just thought about what your old coach used to say,” I blurt out.
Xavier accelerates through the traffic light, taking a left turn onto the street that leads to my parents’ community. “Don’t borrow trouble?”
“Yes.” After a deep breath, I hold it for four, then release it slowly. “I’m already thinking the worst. And I shouldn’t. Not until I have to.”
“Just take it one step at a time,” he replies gently. “And you know I’m with you. Through all of it. No matter what happens.”
A touch of warmth kindles in my chest. “I know.”
As we get closer to my parents’ house, I try to steel myself for whatever comes next. My mom crying. My dad in bed, gaunt and pale, struggling to breathe. Bad news. News I don’t want to hear.
I can do this. If I made it through those days in the cabin, through all the horrible nightmares and flashbacks, and escaping from two men hired to capture me, I can do this. I owe it to my parents to be strong. After supporting me for decades, it’s time for me to do the same.
Xavier stops in front of my parents’ house, and I startle to realize we’re already there. Somehow the trip through the winding roads of their development passed in a blur. And now…
Now I have to suck it up and do this.
He turns off the car and turns towards me, all his features set in a solemn expression. “Are you ready?”
“Not really,” I admit. “But that doesn’t really matter. I need to see my dad.”
“Remember, I’m right here. And if it starts to feel overwhelming, it’s okay to take a break. Just to step outside for a minute. If you need me to make up an excuse, I’ll do it.” His lips lift the tiniest bit. “We can have a code word. So I know you want to step outside. Okay?”
“Okay.” Just for a second, I set everything else aside so I can think about how much I love him. About how thankful I am to have Xavier by my side. “If I call you honey, that’s the code word, alright?”
“Got it.” He kisses me, a tender and comforting caress. “Do you need some more time? Or do you want to go in?”
“Go in.” I move to open the car door, but Xavier touches my arm, stopping me.
“Let me get it,” he says. “Just wait for me to come around.”
Tucked into Xavier’s side, we make our way to the front door, my heart pounding harder and faster with each step. It’s the craziest duality—I want to see my parents, but I’m scared, too. I’m afraid the reality will be even worse than I’m imagining.
I can do this.
Lifting my chin and squaring my shoulders, I punch in the security code and push the heavy door open. Xavier is practically glued to me, his arm wrapped around my waist, in full protection-mode as he scans our surroundings.
But everything appears normal. The large foyer is clean and tidy as usual, no doubt thanks to the cleaning service that comes in once a week. The scent of wood polish lingers in the air, and the antique cherry table by the front door is gleaming. The only thing missing from the picture is the stack of mail that typically sits on the table, brought in by my dad after his morning walk. But he wouldn’t have gone out, not in his condition, and my mom sounded too rattled to think of things like mail and the newspaper.
It’s almost eerily quiet, the only audible sounds the faint ticking of the grandfather clock in the next room and the low hum of a lawnmower several houses away. There’s no music drifting from the kitchen—my mom listening to Stevie Nicks or my dad’s favorite, U2—or a burst of laughter from one of the morning shows my parents like to watch.
A lump rises in my throat. Already, a heavy foreboding is settling over me. My stomach wraps around itself again, and the coffee from earlier threatens to make a reappearance.
I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and exhale slowly. Xavier’s arm tightens around me, and he says, “It’s going to be okay, Luce. We’ll get through this.”
Sagging against him for a moment, I rest my head on his shoulder. “I know.”
Then I straighten and tilt my chin towards the entrance to the living room. “They’re probably upstairs in their bedroom. Unless my mom’s in the kitchen fixing something to eat.”
“Okay.” Xavier’s arm drops from my waist, and he takes my hand. “Lead the way.”
As we move into the living room, I pitch my voice louder as I call, “Mom? I’m here with Xavier. Are you down here?”
There’s no response, not that I was expecting one. Not if she’s upstairs, like I suspect. But I still make a detour to the kitchen, since it’s nearly on the way, stopping in the expansive room to verify that it’s empty.
Like the other rooms so far, it’s immaculate, the granite countertops glinting as the mid-morning sun hits them. There’s no sign of my parents even having been in there—no empty coffee mugs in the sink or the newspaper spread out at the kitchen table, a pencil sitting beside it for when my dad works on the crossword.
My heart squinches into a knot. Is this how it’ll be from now on? My parents’ house still and silent, all the life and laughter sucked out of it?
I squeeze Xavier’s hand as we leave the kitchen and make our way towards the stairs. At the base of them, I call out again, “Mom? Are you upstairs? Is it okay if Xavier and I come up there?”
There’s nothing at first. Then a few seconds later, my mom replies from upstairs, “We’re in the bedroom, Lucy. Of course you can come up. We’ve both been waiting to see you.”
Tears burn behind my eyes as I glance over at Xavier. He leans down to press a kiss to the top of my head, murmuring, “Don’t borrow trouble, remember? Let’s go up and see your parents. I’m sure they’re going to be thrilled to see you.”
If only this was a normal homecoming. Or at least, the one I was imagining. My parents home, healthy and happy, and we’d all sit in the family room—Xavier, too, of course—catching up on everything that’s happened over the last few months.
As we get closer to my parents’ suite, I try to ignore the nerves fluttering in my belly. I try to ignore the what-ifs and focus on things I know.
My parents are home. Safe. My dad isn’t in the hospital, at least. I’m safe. That horrible game is over, so I can focus on helping my parents. I can come here anytime I want. Xavier is here, supporting me.
Just before we get to the bedroom door, I paste on a smile and turn to Xavier. “Does this look real?”
His forehead creases in confusion for a second. Then understanding smooths the tiny lines away. “Yes, sunshine.” He kisses me, a soft look in his eyes. “Your parents are going to be so happy to see you.” After a beat, he adds, “I love you, Lucy.”
“I love you too.”
Then, with a lift of my chin and a steadying breath, I get ready for whatever I’m about to find on the other side of the bedroom door.
It’s slightly ajar, so I can see into the sitting room part of the suite, with the blush-colored couch that faces the small gas fireplace with small bookshelves on either side of it. A book is open and face-down on the couch, and I recognize it immediately as one of my first novels.
Did my mom sit there reading while my dad slept, wanting to feel close to both of us?
Pausing in the doorway, I say, “Mom. Dad. Is it okay to come in?”
“Lucy.” It’s said so affectionately, I almost burst into tears. “Can you come help me with your dad? If Xavier wouldn’t mind waiting in the sitting room for a second?”
Xavier nods at me. “Go,” he says quietly. “I’ll be right here.”
I watch as Xavier heads towards the couch, his lips lifting as he spots my book there. Then he turns to me and smiles before mouthing, I love you, gorgeous .
Warmth fills my chest, and all at once, everything feels a little lighter.
This is going to be okay. Whatever comes next, I can handle it.
With Xavier, I can handle anything.
With a genuine smile this time, I take a right turn, heading into the bedroom side of the suite.
I can do this. I’m a grown woman who made it through things more terrifying that I could imagine. I’m strong enough for anything.
Rounding the corner, the first thing I see is the king-sized bed, blankets thrown back and sheets rumpled. Several more of my books are scattered haphazardly across the mattress. An empty plate sits amid them, with bits of crumbs and streaks of sauce still on it.
Something’s wrong.
Even sick, my dad would never leave the bed this way. Ever.
And where is he?
“Mom? Dad?” I glance towards the bathroom door. Could they both be in there? Is that why my mom needs help? Is my dad stuck in there?
“Mom?” My voice pitches up, on the verge of panic.
“Not quite.”
The voice is low. Unfamiliar. Threatening.
Something presses against the back of my head, hard and cool and?—
There’s a click.
My heart stops.
“Don’t move. Don’t make a sound. Or I will shoot you.”
Oh, God.
Terror rushes through me so quickly I’m lightheaded from it.
I’m frozen, but I can’t stop my body from trembling.
A low whimper starts in the back of my throat.
“Don’t even think about moving,” the man hisses. “Or I’ll shoot you. And your rent-a-cop boyfriend, too.”
Xavier.
My parents.
What is this man going to do to them?
What did he do?
The thing pressed against my head jabs hard enough to bruise—a gun, it has to be a gun, I know what it sounds like when a safety is clicked off—and that terrible voice growls, “You’re going to keep your hands just where they are. And you’re going to walk very slowly.”
No.
Even as my body is in full panic-mode, my mind is whirring at triple speed.
He’s going to force me into the sitting room. Use me as a shield. Even though I know Xavier could disarm the man behind me, he won’t try anything if there’s a gun to my head.
But I could warn him. This man could have shot me already if he wanted. So he wants me alive for something.
I’m just opening my mouth when a hand wraps around my throat. It’s tight, even painful, but not enough to cut off my breath. Damp breath whispers into my ear. “Try it, and I’ll kill your parents, too.”
My voice shrivels.
Panic threatens to take over.
Tears leak down my cheeks as I desperately try to hold back the sobs building inside me.
How can this be happening?
The man—I can’t even see him—releases my neck. A second later, a voice calls out, “Xavier. I’m just helping my parents in the bathroom. I’ll let you know when they’re ready.”
What?
That voice.
It’s me.
The voice changes, whispering so only I can hear it. “Amazing what technology can do these days, isn’t it, Lucy?”
The puzzle pieces slot together.
It wasn’t my mom calling.
This was all a trap.
“Go.” His voice is like a snake rustling through grass. “Now.”
Oh, God.
As we move into the sitting room, Xavier rises from the couch, freezing halfway when he sees me.
Or rather, sees me and whoever is standing behind me.
Xavier’s features turn to stone. More slowly, he stands the rest of the way up. Tension comes off of him in waves. His gaze is more dangerous than I’ve ever seen it.
He stares at the man behind me. In a dark, commanding tone, he orders, “Let her go. Now.”
The man barks a laugh. “Hardly. I’m only getting started.”
As they glare at each other, Xavier’s phone buzzes in his pocket.
“Don’t even think about it,” the man snaps. “Or I will shoot her. I’d rather not; it doesn’t really fit with my plan, but if you push me…”
Xavier’s gaze jumps to mine, fear flickering through his eyes before it’s replaced by an icy calm. “I won’t,” he says. “But let Lucy go. She doesn’t need to be a part of this.”
“Oh, she’s definitely a part of this. In fact, she’s the reason I’m here.” The gun shifts from the back of my head to the front, pressing against my forehead.
Now that I can see the man, there’s no flash of recognition. He just looks like any other man I’d probably look right past on the street. Medium-brown hair, hazel eyes, wire-rimmed glasses, and a brush of stubble no more than a few days old. He’s dressed in a gray T-shirt and jeans, a bit on the thinner side, but he’s well over six feet tall and his arms are ropy with muscle.
Too strong for me to fight back, but Xavier could take him down easily.
Well. If he wasn’t stuck on the other side of the room, and this jerk wasn’t holding a gun to my head, that is.
“Why?” I squeeze out through my narrowing throat. “What do you want?”
The man—who is he?—smirks at me. “First, I want you to tie up your boyfriend. And then you’re going to drug him.”
“What?”
Xavier growls, “No fucking way.”
“Do it.” A wad of zip ties is shoved in my hand and I’m pushed in Xavier’s direction, while the gun moves to the back of my neck. “Or maybe I’ll shoot him first.”
I lock eyes with Xavier, blinking away tears. Guilt and terror make it hard to breathe.
This is my fault. This man is here because of me. It has to be.
As I move behind Xavier, pulling his wrists behind him and zip tying them together, I whisper, “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Luce.” Xavier’s voice gentles for a moment. “It’s going to be alright.” Then it hardens as he directs his attention to the man holding the gun to my head. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”
“I’m finishing what I started,” he replies. “And I suppose it doesn’t matter if you know my name. Not now.” After a rough chuckle, he adds, “I’m Peter Amberson. The man you’ve been looking for all along.”
It’s not even a surprise. Who else could it be?
Once I finish with Xavier’s wrists, I’m yanked roughly away from him, big fingers digging roughly into my arm.
Xavier snarls, “ Take your hands off her .”
“What are you going to do about it?” Peter sneers. “You can’t do anything. If you try, I’ll kill your precious girlfriend right in front of you.”
If possible, Xavier’s expression goes even stonier. “You’re going to regret this.”
“I doubt it.” Peter places something long and slender in my hand. “Now, Lucy. You’re going to inject your boyfriend with this. And if you even think about trying to use it on me?—”
“Yes, I know ,” I snap, anger shoving my fear to the side. “You’ll kill him. Or me. I get it.”
Pride moves across Xavier’s face. Then he pins Peter with a hard glare. “And what about Lucy? Do you think I’m going to let you drug me and leave Lucy alone with you?”
“Oh, that’s funny,” Peter replies with a laugh. “Like you have a choice. But don’t worry. I’m not interested in Lucy like that.”
Fire burns in Xavier’s eyes. “You are going to wish you’d left this alone. I promise you.”
“I don’t think so. Now, inject him. Before I lose my patience.”
I don’t want to. Everything in my body is screaming at me to do something, anything to stop this. Xavier tied up is one thing, but drugged? Unconscious?
A sob escapes. “Please. Don’t make me do this.”
“Do it.” The gun jabs into the tender skin at my nape, and I flinch. “Or I’ll shoot him instead.”
Crying now, I lift the syringe with a trembling hand. “ Xavier ?—”
“It’s okay, Luce.” His gaze sends a silent message. “It’s going to be okay.”
How can it be?
As I slide the needle into Xavier’s arm and press the plunger, I feel like everything inside me is dying.
What if I just signed his death warrant? What if?—
“Let her go,” Xavier demands. “You have me. That’s enough.”
“Oh, no, it’s not.” The empty syringe is taken from me and tossed to the floor, and another is set in my hand. “It won’t be enough until I say it is.”
“What—” I start, as my heart rockets to triple speed. “I’m not giving him another injection. I won’t.”
“Of course not.” Peter moves in front of me, that horrible gun still aimed at my head. A slimy smile spreads across his face. “I don’t want him dead yet. You’re going to inject yourself with it. And you know what will happen if you fight me on it.”
I clench my teeth until pain stabs through my neck and jaw. “Just stop. Now. Please. I’ll pay you. Anything you want. Just stop?—”
“I’m going to get plenty of money, Lucy. Don’t worry.” His voice rises. “Now do it!”
Xavier looks murderous as I lift the syringe to my arm, shaking so hard it’s hard to aim the needle. But he catches my eye for a second, and a moment later, his gaze flickers to my ear.
“Do it,” barks Peter. “Now!”
As I inject myself with whatever is inside the syringe, my panicked mind tries to decipher Xavier’s signal.
“What now?” Xavier growls. “Why don’t you just say what you want?”
What is Xavier telling me?
Then.
In a flash of clarity, I remember.
The earrings. With the tracker in them.
If you’re ever in trouble , Xavier told me weeks ago, just press the center of one of them. Hard. It’ll send an alert to us. We’ll come to you right away.
But Peter is watching me. Will he notice if I touch my ear? Will I give it away?
Oh.
Wait.
I’m not the only one with a tracker. The entire team has them, and Sarah and Jade, too. I’ve seen Xavier’s—a ring that works the same as my earrings. And he would have pressed it right away.
I meet Xavier’s gaze and give him the tiniest of smiles.
He lifts his chin imperceptibly.
Yes . He already signaled for help.
And as Peter’s attention shifts to the empty syringe in my hand, I quickly touch my earring to do the same.
His team is on the way. Xavier is with me.
We just have to stay strong until they get to us.