Chapter 75 Astrid
ASTRID
Autumn arrives, and Callan and I find a new rhythm.
Things are strictly platonic when Darcy is around, but I sneak into Callan’s bed every night, tiptoeing out of the house and back to the cottage before she wakes.
Our friends and family know we’re together, and they’re delighted for us, but in public, it’s strictly hands off because we don’t want to notify the town gossips and have anything reaching Darcy’s ears.
Christmas comes and goes, as does Callan’s twenty-ninth birthday, closely followed by Darcy’s ninth birthday and my twenty-ninth in February.
Callan and I celebrate our six-month anniversary next week, and I wish I could give him the thing he craves most. Confirmation that I love his daughter like my own and I’m ready to move in with them and be a family, but I’m still struggling.
Not as much as I was. It’s impossible to remain immune to Darcy’s sweet charm when my refrigerator is plastered in drawings she made me, and my cabinets are full of cupcakes and barmbrack she regularly bakes for me with her nanny.
For my birthday, she made me a bracelet with my name on it and gave me a jar of her favorite insects from the woods.
When her small hand curls around mine as we walk and she babbles away about her schoolfriends, her cousin, her grandparents, and her precious daddy, it’s impossible for my heart not to melt.
However, I still have times when I look at her and see Gwen. And bam, I’m reminded all over again of the things her mother did, and my heart rips right down the middle.
Why can’t I get over it to love a little girl who deserves it so much?
It’s the only thing holding us back, and I hate that I’m hurting Callan.
We discuss it in therapy, and he’s understanding and patient, but it feels like I’m failing them both.
In every other regard, life is amazing, and our relationship is perfect.
I’m happier than I’ve ever been, something which Seán could see when he showed up here the week before Christmas, offering apologies and begging for another chance. But he didn’t push hard because even a blind man can see how desperately I’m in love with Callan Hunt.
It’s all playing on my mind as I close my office early to head to the school to pick Darcy up. I collect her every Wednesday, and we have one-on-one girl time together. I’ve been doing it since January in the hope it will help.
Light filters out from the supply warehouse as I walk past, and I frown. No one should be in there. Travis is out of town with his wife and their boyfriend for a mini vacation, and Callan is at a client meeting unless it wrapped up early.
“Hello?” I call out as I slip between the door and scan the large space.
My heart leaps to my throat when something cold and hard is pressed to the side of my head. “Hello, bitch.”
My cell slips out of my fingers and onto the floor. All the color drains from my face at the familiar tone, and blood pounds in my ears when a tiny voice screams and calls my name. I move to run to Darcy on instinct, but I’m yanked back by my hair.
“Not so fast. Aren’t you going to say hi to me, Azzie?”
“Go to hell, Gwen.”
“Now that’s not very Goody-Two-shoes of you, is it?” Gwen keeps the gun pressed to my head as she moves in front of me, kicking my cell across the floor in the process.
She looks like shit. Her dull black hair is coarsely chopped to her neck, her face is gaunt and haggard, and her cheap sweater and jeans hang off her skeletal frame. She’s aged hugely, and I’d be quietly rejoicing if it wasn’t for the manic bloodthirsty glaze in her eyes.
“You should be in jail.”
She smirks before dragging a derisory gaze over my black skirt suit and pink blouse. “You should be in jail.”
Darcy cries out again, and panic courses through my veins. “I’m here, Darcy,” I shout, wondering how the fuck Gwen got her out of school because I know her name isn’t on the pickup list.
“Astrid!” she cries. “I want my daddy!”
“If you’ve hurt her, I’ll fucking kill you,” I hiss, glaring at Gwen as my hands clench into fists at my sides.
Gwen laughs. “Oh, Azzie. You’re in no position to be demanding anything. But relax, I haven’t hurt her yet. I’m waiting for my man to get here.”
Her eyes roll around in the back of her head, and I’m trembling inside, but I need to keep my shit together. Darcy needs me, and I won’t let her down. “Leave Darcy out of this. Your beef is with me. Let her go, and we’ll have this out.”
“Shut. Up.” She pushes me, and I almost fall in my heels. “Walk, bitch.” Grabbing the back of my jacket, she prods the gun in my back, before pushing me forward between two tall rows of shelving housing various construction supplies.
My mind races through scenarios as I try to figure a way out of this before she kills us both.
My eyes widen when I remember the cameras.
Callan is anal about security after what happened with Gwen, and he has the same system installed here as he does at his house.
Travis didn’t object when they were setting up the office space, and I know he has cameras installed throughout the woods that surround his property.
An alert will have been triggered when the warehouse was opened, and the alarm was somehow deactivated.
Callan will have checked the hidden cameras and know she’s here.
He’s coming for us, but he’s over an hour away, so he’s probably called the cops, and they’re en route.
I just need to keep her distracted until they arrive.
“You didn’t answer me. How are you here when you’re not due for parole for four years? ”
“Because she has me,” a man with a gruff voice says as we reach the end of the row, and I’m shoved forward into an unfamiliar man’s arms.
“Astrid!” Darcy cries, and I don’t even feel his nails digging into my arms as I look behind him to find her strapped to a wooden chair.
Her hair has come loose from its braid, and her face is flushed as tears stream down her cheeks.
Her pink backpack is tossed on the floor alongside her puffer jacket and scarf. She’s shaking and clearly petrified.
“It’s okay, sweetie. I’m here now.”
Pain shoots through the back of my skull when Gwen hits me with the gun.
“You think you can take my place, bitch?” I clutch the back of my head as she shoves her face all up in mine.
“They are mine. Not yours.” Spittle flies from her lips, and her nostrils flare as she wraps her hand around my throat.
Darcy screams, and I try not to panic, but it’s challenging.
“Not yet.” The man wrenches me out of Gwen’s hold and drags me across the space, dumping me in the chair beside Darcy. “Don’t try anything, or my daughter will put a bullet between the girl’s eyes,” he says, bending down to tie my legs to the chair.
Daughter? Holy fuck. This prick is Gwen’s deadbeat dad who knocked her mom up at sixteen?
His bald head is wrinkled and puckered, and his face is creased with lines.
Tattoos cover all sides of his neck and creep out from under the sleeves of his jacket.
Stale breath blows across my face as he ties me up, and his foul body odor assaults my nostrils.
He’s got to be pushing seventy or older, meaning he was at least forty when Gwen was born.
Darcy is bawling and shaking, her lips wobbling as she stares at me with pleading eyes.
“Shut up, you sniveling brat.” Gwen wraps her hands around Darcy’s neck, and my heart stutters in my chest.
“Don’t hurt her. Please. I’ll do anything you want, Gwen, but please leave Darcy alone.”
“Anything you say?” The old man cups my boob through my blouse, and I almost throw up.
“Don’t touch her,” Gwen snaps, grabbing his arm before he can finish properly tying my second arm to the chair. “She’s vile and a lousy lay. My man told me all about it.”
I wondered if my man meant Callan or some degenerate she’s fucking who is helping her.
“I don’t know, angel. I’m thinking some blonde pussy will sweeten the deal.”
Bile swims up my throat.
“You’re getting the ransom money.” Gwen pushes herself in front of me. “And I’m getting my man back.”
She is actually insane because I can tell she believes it.
“I’m thinking I got the hard end of the bargain.” He swipes his fingers along her cheek, and not in a loving way.
While they’re distracted arguing, I remove my pods from my jacket pocket and pop them in Darcy’s ears.
I lift one finger to my lips. I can’t play music without my cell, but at least it should muffle the conversation.
I’m glad I bought the smallest ones on the market because they’re not noticeable unless you’re paying close attention, and Gwen is too drugged up to notice.
“Daddy is coming,” I whisper. “It will be okay. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. ”
“What did you say bitch?” Gwen yanks my head back, pressing her gun to my throat. “Daddy is coming, but he’s not riding to the rescue if that’s what you think,” she snarls, pressing the muzzle into my neck. “Who do you think gave me the code to turn off the alarm?”
Smart, Callan. Very smart. It’s easier for him to creep up on Gwen when she’s not out in the open, and the interior cameras will fully capture the whole thing, meaning we have evidence to finally put her away for life.
“My baby called me the second he got my message,” Gwen prattles on, “and he can’t wait to see me again because he’s missed me so much. He’s at the bank getting Daddy’s money, and once you and that little bitch are dead, Callan will be all mine, just how it’s always meant to be.”
“Careful, angel.” Her dad pulls her away from me. “Don’t want that gun to go off before I’ve gotten my money.”
“You’d hurt your own daughter?” I ask to keep her talking.
“She stole him from me!”
“She was a baby, Gwen. An innocent little baby you used as a pawn.”
Darcy is still crying, but it’s quieter now, and she’s humming to herself and hopefully not hearing any of this conversation.
“Bet that kills you, doesn’t it?”
I can use this. “Yes. It hurts so much, but that was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”