7. Gladys Does Not Approve
gladys does not approve
. . .
Sadie
Sadie’s Guide to Hostage-Taking, Tip #5: Wear something with large pockets. Most women’s clothing isn’t made with hostage-taking in mind.
It was a short drive back to the shelter, and Davian parked in an open spot right in front. I’d been worried about someone other than me driving Daisy, but he handled her like a pro.
Part of me was a little miffed she took to him so nicely when it’d taken me months to win her over.
It felt strange walking up to the shelter, knowing Bear wasn’t in there, but at least I had hope we’d find him soon. Davian walked beside me and cleared his throat, then nodded pointedly at the gun I held at my side.
“I don’t mean to overstep, but it might be better to hide the gun while we’re outside?” he suggested. “Wouldn’t want any passersby to ask questions.”
“Right.” I nodded and went to stuff the gun in the front of my overalls again—but Davian’s quick grip around my wrist stopped me.
I stared down at his hand, shocked at how big it looked around my small wrist.
“Did you make sure the safety is on?” he asked, sounding concerned. He let go of my wrist, and I tried to shake off the phantom touch. “Wouldn’t want you accidentally shooting your leg.”
My cheeks flushed at my foolishness, and I turned the gun over in my hand to look for whatever this “safety” thing was. Was it labeled?
Davian stepped even closer, fully invading my personal bubble.
“Allow me.” He held out a hand. Flustered, I placed the gun in his waiting palm without a second thought, and one side of his mouth curled up. His hands moved faster than I could see, and he slid the top back and then forward with a satisfying click . Then he checked a few other settings before holding it out. “Good to go.”
It was impressive, and I made a mental note to look up videos on how to handle a gun once I got home.
“Thanks,” I said, taking the gun back. He was turning out to be quite useful.
I went to slip the weapon back in my overalls, but apparently Davian wasn’t finished pushing the boundaries of acceptable hostage behavior yet. His hand gently covered mine on the gun. “Here, I can help with this, too.”
Frozen in place, I couldn’t get my throat to work as he closed even more of the distance between us.
My nose was close enough to brush the front of his fine suit, but he leaned to the side to get a look around the front of my overalls. His brow furrowed. “Where did you hide it earlier—in your underwear?”
“No!” My head reeled back in alarm. “The pockets are too small, but there’s a little loop of denim here. It sort of fits in it.”
He followed to where I pointed, and my cheeks burned. Could he see my underwear from that angle? Surely the overalls were tight enough at my waist to hide them.
Davian maneuvered the gun into the loop I’d pointed out, and it rested snugly in front of my hip. There was nothing comfortable about it, but the way his fingers brushed the sliver of skin peeking out from under my shirt had me holding my breath.
His hand lingered after he’d hidden the gun. It traced over my overalls and up my side in a torturously slow caress that sent my heart racing before he reached the overall strap at my collarbone.
I didn’t dare breathe. “…Davian?”
He grunted and tugged both straps until my overalls were tight against me. I sucked in a breath, finally working up the nerve to look up at his face.
Davian’s lips tilted up into a devastating smile, and my stomach somersaulted.
“Just making sure it’s secure,” he murmured.
I swallowed, convinced he could hear my heart thundering in my chest with how close we stood.
“How’s that?” His fingers lingered on a strap, and he didn’t make any move to step back.
“Good,” I squeaked out, praying my cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. He threw me off balance. Was it normal to feel butterflies around one’s hostage?
There should be an instruction manual for this.
I took a big step away from Davian. Maybe some space would cool off whatever completely inappropriate reaction I was having to him.
He let his arm drop and cocked a dark brow at me before eyeing the building with a frown. “You said you work here, right?”
“I’m a volunteer.” I crouched to pick up a crumpled fast-food bag from the sidewalk. “My culinary school is on summer break, so I spend most of my time here with the dogs.”
I tossed the trash into a bin, then paused. It probably wasn’t a good idea to give a hostage personal details about myself, especially since I planned to set him free after we got Bear back. What if he held the abduction against me and sought revenge?
“Can you pretend I didn’t just say that, please?” I winced. “I don’t think it was smart to tell you.”
But Davian’s gaze was dead serious when I looked at him. “You can tell me anything, Sadie.”
Yeah, right.
I tried to shake off the stupid weightlessness his words gave me. “Not really. If what Gladys said is true, then you’ll probably hunt me down and slit my throat after I set you free.”
I really hadn’t thought this through before grabbing his friend’s gun.
“There won’t be any throat-slitting,” Davian said, far too calmly, before adding with a small smirk, “It’s not really my style.”
I gulped. Was it too messy? What was his style?
Maybe it was best not to ask.
But it didn’t matter, because Davian walked toward the front of the shelter and studied the graffiti.
He pointed at a section of brick by the window. “Is this the new stuff?”
“Yeah. The green paint is the freshest, and the black was from about a week ago.”
Davian crossed his arms as he took in the broken glass on the windowsill, and his lips thinned. I averted my gaze. He looked even scarier when he wasn’t standing in a cheerful ice cream parlor.
I studied the front of the building, too, trying to spot anything that might help us. When nothing popped out at me aside from a bunch of graffiti penises I did my best to ignore, I let out a breath. “I’m not sure there’s any helpful clues for you here. Should we go inside and watch the security footage?”
He shook his head. “I know who did it.”
“Really?” I asked hopefully. That was easier than I’d thought. “How can you tell?”
“The little shits signed their tag a dozen times.”
I squinted at the green and black spray paint on brick. “Where?”
He pointed at a mess of curly letters and numbers I couldn’t make out. “It’s the Skulls. They’re a newer group with small numbers, so this should be easy.”
I perked up. “Do you know where we can find them?”
Davian’s brow rose. “ We won’t be finding anyone. I’ll take care of it.”
“But you said I could come.” I frowned. “I need to bring Bear back. He’s probably so scared, and I promised Mr. Sanders?—”
“I’ll bring Bear back to you.” Davian spoke with finality—like he expected that to be the end of the discussion—and I gaped at him.
The door to the shelter swung open before I could argue, making me freeze in place. But it was just Gladys who stepped out onto the sidewalk, with a cigarette in hand, and I let out another breath.
She smiled when she saw me, but then her gaze slid to Davian, and she went pale as a ghost. “What’s going on out here?”
Davian scanned Gladys before easily dismissing her and looking at me.
I held a hand up to calm her like we did when the dogs got nervous. “It’s okay, Gladys. Davian is here to help us.”
Gladys’s eyes widened. “Sadie, come inside right now. I’m sorry, Mr. Reed?—”
“You should go back inside, Miss Gladys,” Davian said, but it didn’t really sound like a suggestion, and I winced. Gladys was not easily bossed around.
And in true Gladys form, her timidness vanished and she scoffed in his face. “I’m not leaving Sadie out here with you. Whatever you’re here for, she has nothing to do with it. You better watch?—”
“It’s okay, Gladys! I’m the one in control here. Look.” I pulled the gun partway out of my overalls to show her. Her jaw dropped, and I tried to smile reassuringly. “I used your idea, and now Davian has to do what I say. He’ll fix this for us. Don’t worry.”
“Lord above, Sadie Marie! Where in the world did you get a gun?” she cried.
“ Shh .” I glanced around to make sure no one had heard her, but the nearest passerby was across the street. “Not so loud. We don’t want someone calling the cops. But I used your advice, and now Davian is going to help me find Bear. See?”
Gladys made a quick sign of the cross and mumbled under her breath before fixing me with a hard look that would normally shake me to my core. “You’ve just signed all our death certificates, girl. You know that, right?”
“Sadie will be fine,” Davian said before I could think of something comforting to say. “And I don’t like to repeat myself. You should go back inside now.”
I shivered at the steel in Davian’s voice. Was that new, or had he always sounded like that?
Gladys jerked back at his cold tone before looking at me helplessly.
I waved off her concern and nodded toward the door. “I promise we’re okay out here. And I’ll get Bear back safe and sound, all right? Please tell Mr. Sanders not to worry.”
“Oh, he’ll be worried, all right. We all will.” Gladys shook her head. She hesitated just a moment longer before turning back to the door and disappearing inside.
As soon as the door shut behind her, I regretted telling her to go. I didn’t want her upset with me. Maybe we should’ve asked her to join us.
“We need to move,” Davian said, pulling me out of my worries. “Let’s go.”
When he moved toward Daisy, I called for him to wait.
“We could take the Dog-Mobile instead, if you want to?” I suggested. “It’ll have more leg room.”
Davian blinked back at me.
“The… Dog-Mobile?” His face pinched, as if it pained him to even say the words.
I pointed at the large blue van parked just around the corner of the block. Three huge dogs—a yellow Labrador, a German shepherd, and a Great Dane—were painted on the side, and their happy faces always made me smile. Happy Tails Haven Dog-Mobile was painted in big yellow letters over their furry heads. “It belongs to the shelter, but if Mr. Sanders says it’s okay, then we can borrow it. He won’t mind.”
Davian eyed the van and cringed before shaking his head a little too quickly for my liking.
“Get in the car, Sadie,” was all he said as he pulled the passenger door open for me.
But I hesitated. It felt wrong to leave things up in the air, and I glanced back at the shelter. What if Gladys called Officer Murdock and things got messy? I didn’t want to go to jail for taking a hostage.
“Maybe I should smooth things over with Gladys first? She seemed worried.”
Davian shook his head. “We need to hurry if you want to get Bear back safely.”
I fiddled with the clasps on my overalls, looking back at the door to the shelter again before sighing and ducking into the passenger side.
It almost felt like Davian was taking me hostage now, but that was just silly.
I was the one with the gun.