Chapter 20
CALLIE
When I come to, I’m blindfolded and there’s tape around my wrists.
My heart thuds, and terror pulses through me, but I observe it from a detached point of view. It’s almost as though I don’t actually feel it. I watch my body having fear.
I don’t know how much time has passed. No one talks to me.
First it’s a car, or a van. I try to count, so I can estimate far we’ve come from London.
I’m not sure why that seems the right thing to do?
I get to sixty-eight times after I think of it, so we’re not far from Woodford.
Well, assuming I wasn’t unconscious for too long.
I’m relieved when I’m taken somewhere with smooth floors. A house, rather than a warehouse or anything terrifying like that. Apparently I have a different standard having been reverse-kidnapped by Reid. Kidnapping? Fine so long as the house is nice.
Reid is constant drumbeat in my mind as I try to figure out what to do.
I cannot die here, because I haven’t told Reid I love him.
I’m pushed down into a seat, and I remain still, hoping if I don’t struggle, they’ll do something off-guard and give me an opportunity. I have to get out of here. Panic rises in me as the men talk in low voices, and I try to focus and keep it from being overwhelming.
There’s the whiney man, and the gruff man who kidnapped me. Two men who are in charge? And some others to help.
I consider my options. I could tip myself onto my side, and… I’m not sure what then. I have no idea where I am, or why.
That’s not entirely true.
Reid talked about the Essex Cartel, and the men I can hear have Essex accents.
Almost certainly I’m part of some revenge plot against Reid.
The only question is, will Reid step into their trap?
I don’t know what I’m hoping for. This is a very bad situation, but his arm isn’t completely healed, and he could get killed trying to save me.
I hear the metallic click of guns and my fear spikes.
“Harry, James! What do you think you’re doing?!” A woman’s voice cuts through the discussion of the men. She’s young.
“Kylie, this is men’s work, get out,” the gruff man replies.
There’s a shift of fabric and the tap of heels. “Who is she? Why do you have her?”
“The whore of the bastard who shot our father.” This from the whiney voiced man. “He took something from us, we’re taking his woman from him.”
“You are so fucking stupid!” Her high heels come closer. “Can’t you see Woodford did us a favour? We’re not mourning that arsehole.”
“Yeah, but, Kylie, we have to have revenge.”
“Did Colchester put you up to this? I’ve said before, that man is only out for himself.” Kylie’s patience sounds like it’s running thin.
I assume no one is taking any notice of me given they’re arguing, and I feel around to see if I can find something to start to cut or wear away the tape holding my hands.
Leaning and groping, I establish I’m on a sofa.
Now, probably there’s nothing, but sofas often have stuff that’s fallen down the side, so I ignore the argument, and try to shove my hands into the gap between the cushions.
I have to dig quite deep, but eventually, between crumbs and fluff, I hit the jackpot. Cold metal. Circular.
A coin. I pull it up, heart thudding. I can escape.
“You’ll bring the whole of the London Mafia Syndicate to our door,” Kylie argues.
“Yeah, but sis—”
“No. This is why I said I was taking the lead.” She huffs, and there’s a swish of hair. “Harry, get the guards in and away from the outside of the building. There’s no point in losing more of us to London. James, fetch us tea.”
I try to twist my hands around and rub the small coin against my bindings. It feels pointless, but this Kylie is having tea. I’ll take my opportunity.
“Hey, what’s your name?”
The blindfold is pulled from my head, and I blink up at a young woman.
Kylie has bleached-blonde hair that’s impossibly straight, fake tan, and makeup you’d call bold.
Her dress could easily take her to a club, or the beach, and she has gold necklaces and perfectly manicured nails. And she is looking right at me.
Ah.
“Callie Flowers.” Subtly, I drop the penny I’ve been using to try to cut the tape, trying to get it to go into the seam of the sofa.
I fail. It rolls and pings onto the marble floor.
Kylie spots it, and glances between me and the little copper. Then she turns me and there’s a rip. Agony as the tape is torn from my wrists, removing every tiny hair with it and possibly the top layer of skin. I yelp.
“Oh that’s a very good effort,” Kylie says, regarding the silver tape she’s cut from my hands, and I really can’t tell if she means to be genuine or patronising. “I think you might have managed eventually.”
I look up, shaking. There’s barely a dent in the tape.
“Mmm.” I’m not at all sure this girl isn’t completely crazy. I massage my stinging wrists. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” she replies casually. “Sorry about all this. Your man will be here soon, don’t worry.”
I blink in confusion. My man? Does she mean Reid? That’s wishful thinking.
“In the meantime, would you like a cup of tea?”
I do the only thing I can. I smile. “That would be lovely.”