Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Carley
I can’t remember the last time I felt this hungover.
My head is thumping, and the light streaming in through the windows feels like a knife to my eyeballs.
I don’t know if it’s because of the mind-blowing sex or the celebratory wine Saylor and I had when I got home.
The last thing I remember is walking in the door and telling Saylor what happened.
We accidentally woke Ren up with our squealing, and then she asked him to get us some wine before he went back to sleep.
When I throw my legs over the side of the bed, they feel like they have cement in them. I glance at the clock on my bedside table and have to rub my eyes to see it right. I thought it said 11:23 A.M.
When I look again, I realize I wasn’t seeing things. It’s actually that late.
Holy shit.
What the fuck?
I can hear Saylor now. As soon as I get to the kitchen and she sees how late I slept, she’s going to say something ridiculous, like D really dicked you good or something else just as ludicrous.
I tap my phone screen, and I notice a couple of notifications.
Unlocking it, I see a text from Saylor, and I realize D has also texted me a few times this morning. I open D’s messages first.
The first one at 8:33.
Dimos
Good morning, beautiful.
Next, at 9:17.
Dimos
Last night was mind-blowing. I can’t wait to see you today. Let me know where you want to eat and when, and I’ll make the arrangements.
Then at 10:04.
Dimos
I hope everything is okay and you aren’t having second thoughts. I went ahead and made reservations for Il Forno 12:30. Looking forward to seeing you, théa.
Finally, at 10:59.
Dimos
Okay, I’m officially worried. Please text me, Carley. I love you.
Shit. I hate that I made him worry, and I respond immediately.
Me
Hey! Good morning. I’m so sorry I made you worry. When I got home last night, I told Saylor what happened (not everything that happened) and we celebrated with a little wine.
Me
At least, I think it was a little. But this morning it feels like a lot more than I may have originally thought.
Me
Anyway, Il Forno at 12:30 sounds great. Looking forward to it.
I’ll have to move quickly if I want to make it there in an hour. I shoot D one final message before I get ready.
Me
And I love you, too.
After that, I put my phone down and head into the kitchen for some much-needed coffee.
My head is so foggy, and this may be the only thing that will help.
The apartment is suspiciously quiet. Once my mug is full of delicious, hot caffeine, I head back down the hallway and poke my head into Saylor’s room before going into my own. It’s empty.
I’m sure Ren is working, but where the hell is she? That’s when I remember I also had a text from her that I completely forgot about. When I get back to my room, I place my mug on the bedside table and pick up my phone again. I see another message from D waiting.
Dimos
You should wear that red dress for me …
Me
Don’t you think that’s a little fancy for lunch?
Dimos
Never.
Me
I think I’ll stick with shorts, but maybe I’ll pack it in my overnight bag.
Dimos
Okay, deal. See you soon.
Me
Can’t wait!
After that, I pull up my conversation with Saylor and finally read her waiting message.
Saylor
I know you said D was a generous lover, but he must have generously fucked you the fuck up last night. You were dead halfway through one glass of wine.
I can’t help but laugh at her message. She’s not wrong.
Saylor
Anyway, Ren surprised me with breakfast followed by a full spa day today.
Massage, facial, hair, nails … the works.
And he’s getting us a limo to the club tonight.
He told me he got a promotion at work and wanted to splurge by spoiling me.
So I won’t be available most of the day.
I hope you have a blast with D, and I can’t wait to hear all the details!
That’s so adorable. I think Ren feels inadequate sometimes, compared to Saylor. She makes substantially more than he does, almost without trying. He works so hard, and he’s good at what he does. If anyone deserves a promotion, it’s him.
Me
Wow! Have a great time!!! I doubt I’ll be reachable once I meet up with D. He was pretty adamant about not coming up for air for a while once we talked through everything.
Me
I promise to call or text as soon as I can, though. Thank you so much for being on OUR side and not just mine. As always, you knew exactly what I needed to hear.
Me
I love you, jerk face. And tell Ren I said congratulations!
Once the message is sent, I take another swig of my coffee before heading into the bathroom to shower. That should help clear my head, but I also want to make sure I’m completely cleanly shaven and smooth for D.
When my hair is knot free and I’m happy with the silkiness of my skin, I turn the water off and grab a towel from the hook outside of the shower door. I wrap it around my body and then grab another one for my hair.
Before I exit the bathroom, I brush my teeth and apply some moisturizer to my face.
Finally, once I’m back out in my room, I grab a pair of shorts out of my dresser.
I toss them onto the bed and turn back around to grab a pair of underwear from my drawer, but something stops me, and I give further thought to my wardrobe choice.
It’ll be sexier if I wear a skirt.
And D isn’t expecting it. Quickly, I drop my shorts back onto my bed and go into my closet.
I grab a tight black pencil skirt and a bright red blouse and take them back out into my room.
I select a sexy black thong out of my underwear drawer, and I pull it on before zipping the skirt into place and tucking in the blouse.
As I look at myself in the mirror, I hear my phone vibrate again. Before I check it, I flash myself an excited grin. I haven’t felt this giddy or nervous since my first date with D back in Greece.
Walking to my bed, I take another sip of coffee, careful not to spill it. Then I pick up my phone, but when I pull up my messages, I nearly drop it.
There’s a text from Blaine.
I haven’t heard from him in two weeks, and the moment I meet up with D again, he’s back? What the fuck?
Against my better judgement, I open the message and nearly throw up as soon as I see what he sent.
Staring back at me is Saylor. Tied to a chair with duct tape over her mouth and tears streaming down her face.
She looks absolutely terrified, and it crushes me.
Next to her in another chair is Ren. At least it looks like him, but I can only see the top of his head and part of one side of his face.
I think there is duct tape over his mouth too, but I can’t make it out.
He has blood dripping out of his ear, and the way his head is hanging, he looks unconscious.
“Oh my god,” I cry to the empty room as hot tears roll down my cheeks.
What the fuck do I do? Where are they? Saylor just said her and Ren were out to breakfast. How could this be?
Opening my conversation with Saylor once more, I type out a quick message.
Me
Saylor, please message me back ASAP. Something happened, and I need to know you’re okay!
I double check the time she sent her first message. It was a while ago at 9:34.
Fuck.
That’s plenty of time for Blaine to have gotten ahold of them and taken them somewhere. But how? And where?
I feel my phone vibrate in my hand again, and I look down to see another message from Blaine has come through.
212-555-1212
REN DIDNT MAKE IT
212-555-1212
UNLESS YOU WANT SAYLOR TO SUFFER THE SAME FATE MEET ME AT 8293 72ND STREET brOOKLYN
212-555-1212
COME ALONE AND DONT TELL ANYONE WHERE YOURE GOING OR ILL FUCKING KILL HER
212-555-1212
ILL KNOW IF YOU DO
My phone drops from my hands as I read the new messages from Blaine. I can’t believe this is happening.
Fuck.
What do I do? He can hack in to our security system, so why wouldn’t he be able to hack in to my cell phone, too? Did he track me to the office last night? Maybe he realized how long I was there? Or that Izaak drove me home instead of me taking another cab?
I want to call D so bad and tell him what’s going on, but I’m scared Blaine will find out and hurt Saylor because of me.
I can’t let that happen. My head still feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton, but I can’t let that slow me down.
I only allow myself to linger in the apartment long enough to change into the shorts on my bed and a t-shirt before flying down the eight flights of stairs to the street and hailing a cab.
As soon as I’m seated, I shout the address and tell him to step on it.
The drive through the city and into Brooklyn feels like it takes forever.
My heart lurches when we pass the street Il Forno is on.
I look at the time and wonder briefly if D is already there.
It’s 12:00. I’m sure he is, because he wouldn’t have been able to focus on work anyway.
He’s probably sitting in front of the restaurant in the limo, wasting time, waiting for me to arrive.
I try to control my breathing while also reminding the driver I’m in a hurry.
Though I’m terrified to get to my destination.
I want to save Saylor more than anything, but I don’t know if I can take on Blaine by myself.
And Ren. Poor Ren didn’t deserve to get dragged in to this. He’s so innocent in all of it. My heart breaks at the fact that he’s gone. And it’s all my fault. I wipe away more tears as we exit the Queens Midtown Tunnel. We’re that much closer to wherever it is that Blaine has Saylor.
Why did I have to drink wine last night? If I hadn’t, maybe I would have been awake in enough time to go to breakfast with Saylor and Ren. We all would have been together when Blaine contacted them or attacked them or whatever he did to get them where they are now.
I feel the taxi driver’s eyes on me as I let out a sob I was trying to hold in.
“Are you okay, miss?” he inquires.
“Yes, I’m fine. Thanks,” I try to offer him a tiny smile, but I can’t.
Not wanting to draw any more attention to myself, I wipe my eyes and try to think about what I can do to get Saylor out of there and away from that sick fuck.
Before I’m ready, the cab pulls up in front of a strip of rowhomes.
Right in front of me is 8293. I throw a hundred-dollar bill at the driver and get out of the car.
Running up the front steps, I feel the effects of the wine still in my system.
Something is wrong; wine has never done this to me before.
I chalk it up to my anxiety and take a deep breath, trying to convince myself I’m strong enough to handle the situation I am about to walk into.
I have to be. Saylor’s life depends on it.
Wrapping my fingers around the door handle, I turn it to try and open the door, but it’s locked.
I make a fist to knock on the door, but it flies open before I get a chance to make contact.
A hand reaches out and grabs me, and the shock of it takes away my ability to see him clearly.
Once I’m in his grasp, he pulls me inside and backs me up against the wall.
His face doesn’t register properly at first, and I feel the same way I did when I woke up this morning and looked at the clock.
Whether it’s my eyes or my brain playing tricks on me, Blaine looks a little different than I remember.
It was dark in the bar when I saw him weeks ago, and it was almost a year before that when I saw him last. Surely he’s changed a bit over the past nine months.
As he speaks, I can feel his hot, acrid breath on my skin.
“Hello, Carley.”