8. Graham
GRAHAM
Itake a deep breath, blow it out, then walk out onto my balcony overlooking Central Park, Lulu the little French bulldog trotting out after me.
Up above me there’s Dani—trapped, scared, alone.
“Why didn’t you run?” I whisper up to her. “Why?”
Because she loves you. She wants you. She wants to be with you.
Girls just want a man to take charge, to dominate them. That’s what women want. It is in their nature.
“Shut up!” I scream at my father’s voice in my head.
The dog barks once at me.
I stare at my reflection in the glass windows. I’m almost as old as Stuart was when he stole his first victim. Her parents would tell the news media later that it was as if she had just vanished into the night.
“I am not you.”
Dani’s not in a cellar, for one. She’s very comfortable in that suite. It’s one of the nicer guest suites.
Little love nest.
“I said shut up.” I rage at my reflection. “God, I’m losing it.”
I’d like to blame Dani for it, but it’s not her fault. She’s innocent.
So innocent…
I don’t give it the satisfaction. I just march myself at gunpoint to my study. Grab my checkbook.
Dani is in the bathroom. I hear water splashing. She doesn’t notice me as I open the door. I stand there, the humid warmth washing over me.
The dog pants next to me.
Staring at her—how she leaned back in the tub with her head back, exposing the pale length of her throat—nothing stirs in me. She’s my unwanted houseguest. That’s all.
See, Dad? Fuck you. I’m not attracted to her. She was a means to an end—she got me through brunch, and now we’re done. It’s barely even a kidnapping. It’s more of a business arrangement.
“Are you sober enough to talk?”
“Shit!” Dani screams. Water splashes over the tub.
I walk to the towels piled by the tub.
“Don’t!” she shrieks, one hand covering her chest, the other outstretched toward the towels.
“Right. My apologies.” I step back and turn around. Stare at the plant by the window. “I’ve come to offer you a deal.”
I turn back around. She’s scrunched down in the tub, the water up to her neck. I keep my eyes on her face and hold up the checkbook.
“I’m going to write you a check for five million dollars, then I will have a car or plane take you wherever you want to go. The only stipulation is that you make a post on Instagram about how you broke up with me because my mom was mean to you.”
I thought a lot about it in the car ride over. That’s the best way to both get Dani out of my life and create the perfect excuse for why I am no longer bringing her to family events.
“I have a post composed—I can email it to you if you’d like. I think the image should be like a plant or a picture of a stack of books or coffee. Something neutral. I think it’s called sad-girl aesthetics?”
Dani stares at me, sinks farther down in the sweet-smelling foam, and blows a breath out of her nose. The water burbles softly.
“No.”
I blink at her. “Excuse me?”
“No deal.”
“I’ll double it. Triple it.” Desperation is creeping into my voice.
“Nope.”
“And I’ll throw in a condo. I just need you out of my life, Dani.
I made a horrible mistake. I never should have kidnapped you, okay?
I’m sorry, okay? That’s what women want, right?
An apology?” I snarl. “I’m sorry I kidnapped you.
I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I threatened your dog.
I didn’t mean it. Now can you please accept the money?
Twenty million and a house—that’s a pretty good fucking deal. ”
“No deal. Hand me that wine?”
“If I’d had the foresight to kidnap a down-on-her-luck baker or something, she’d have already been gone with the check.” I hand her the bottle. “So what do you want? Is this a power-struggle thing? Or do you just want to watch me hauled off by the police?”
“I want you.”
My eyes narrow at her. “You want me to have sex with you?”
“Ew, no. Gross.”
“Then what?”
“I need a boyfriend.”
“You need a—”
She’s messing with me.
I look up at the ceiling then back down. Her face is serious.
“My brother and my best friend are getting married, and I need a date. You’re it.” She tops up her wine.
“We’re not dating.”
“Really? Because I met your parents.”
“That was a mistake—a horrible mistake on my part. We’re not dating. We’re not in love. We’re not… Can you please just take the money, Dani?”
“No. I can’t just take the money, Graham.
If you wanted me to just take the money, then you shouldn’t have brought me out in public to brunch in my parents’ neighborhood where all their friends would see and think I’m dating a billionaire!
” she screams. “I am currently in a very delicate social situation.”
“Stupid rich girls.”
“Stupid misogynistic fuckboys,” she retorts. “Guess your little porno fantasy blew up in your face. Sucks to suck. Here in the real world—”
“The Upper East Side isn’t real life.”
“People are expected to act a certain way. A girl from my social circle is expected to show up to events with the boyfriend everyone thinks she is dating.”
“Is this some weird fantasy? I saw all the romance-book notifications popping up on your phone,” I mock. “I’m never going to fall in love with you or sweep you off your feet, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Of course not—you’re an animal. This is business. You put me in a bind. I have to pivot. Man up. The party is at five thirty. Bring a gift. I’ll send you the link to the registry.” She calls out after me, “Also, we have a charity garden party in April.”
I slam the bathroom door. Kick it.
“Fuck!”
I have to do it, right? Or when the police show up looking for me—and they will—I’ll lose everything. My money. My business. My respect. My parents will hate me. My siblings will never speak to me. I’ll rot away in prison.
Cursing, I storm downstairs to my study and hurl the checkbook against the window.
I need to get rid of her. I peel off my jacket. I have to get rid of her. Not kill her—I’m not a monster, I’m not—but she cannot stay here.
I need… I look around wildly. I need to…
Well. I need to call my brothers.
“You fucking piece of fucking shit.” Grayson’s fist connects with my face.
I grunt and go down.
“Whoa, whoa!” Spencer grabs me as I collapse, the room spinning, to the floor.
“My man has to be arm candy for a very important date.”
“Don’t hit him.” Aaron turns on Grayson, who looks like he’s winding up for another punch. “You’re going to hurt him.”
“He deserves to be hurt.” Grayson’s green eyes—our father’s eyes, my eyes—flash.
“I should throw him off the fucking balcony. He’s a monster.
He’s just like Dad.” He and Aaron circle each other.
“You gave me so much shit because you said I was just like Dad, and then here’s Graham kidnapping girls off the street. ”
“Based on her Svensson Investment profile,” Finn says, flicking through his phone, “she sounds like a grown-ass woman. Very impressive résumé. She went to Yale.”
“Fuck you.” Grayson kicks me in the stomach.
I double over, wheezing. “It wasn’t my fault.”
“Oh, so she kidnapped herself?” Connor drawls. “But thanks, bro. Really takes the heat off me. Also, is this a good time to tell you all that I lost a fuck ton of money betting on crypto?”
Grayson lunges at him.
“What! Graham’s the family fuckup now, not me.”
“Look”—Spencer holds out his arms—“can we all just calm down?”
Grayson glares at me.
All six of us were born in the cellar to unwilling mothers and our psychopath father. Grayson, the oldest, recently came back into our lives. He and Aaron, the second oldest, are trying to mend their relationship. Spencer and Finn are the next oldest, and Connor is the useless baby.
A shit-eating grin slides onto Spencer’s face. “We need to figure out what Graham’s going to wear to the engagement party.”
“I’m not going to that fucking party! You have to talk to her—make her take the money. I can’t be her boyfriend,” I howl as Aaron tries to block Grayson from killing me.
Ding-dong!
Ding—!
“Coming!” Connor hollers.
“Don’t answer that,” I say desperately, running after him. “It’s probably the police.”
“It’s probably Crawford or one of the Wynter brothers tracking that laptop.” Finn snickers. “You really suck at kidnapping, you know?”
“Can I have your car when you die?” Connor wrenches open the door.
There’s a kid wearing a green shirt with a smiling tomato on it.
“The concierge sent me up.” He gives me a blank stare. “I have a delivery here for Dani? Extra-large pepperoni and extra-large supreme, no olives. Garlic knots.”
“Extra garlic sauce?” Connor asks.
He holds up a bag.
Connor reaches for it. “Good call on the food, Graham—all this kidnapping is making me hungry.”
“You little—”
“Are you Dani?” the pimple-faced pizza delivery guy asks, not relinquishing the bag.
“Uh, no.”
“This has to go to Dani.”
“Dani?” I think I’m hallucinating. She’s upstairs. Trapped. Can’t get away.
The delivery boy gives another blank stare.
“Tip the man,” Spencer hisses to Grayson.
My eldest brother stonily pulls out his wallet and hands the pizza boy two crisp fifty-dollar bills. The kid shrugs and shoves the food at him. “Whatever.”
I’m already heading upstairs, my brothers trailing behind me.
“Dani!” I unlock the door.
“Damn, he really did kidnap her—she’s locked up in here and everything,” Connor stage-whispers.
“Dani!” I bellow, throwing the door open.
“Oh my god, finally.” She waves. There’s an empty bottle of wine on the coffee table in the seating area and a half-empty one beside her on the nightstand. “Gimme,” she says drunkenly, rolling over on the bed.
“How did you order pizza?” I rage at her. “How? I took her phone from her.”
Finn silently points to the cell phone beside her on the bed.
“God, you suck at kidnapping, dude.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling him.” Dani peers drunkenly at us. “Ooh, is this a gang-bang situation?”
“No—I told you, we are not having sex.”
“Then why did you even kidnap her, dude?”
“You fucking—” Grayson hisses at Spencer.
“That”—Dani lists to the side and almost falls off the bed—“is what I wanna know. Inquiring minds wanna… inquire.”
“How much have you drunk?” I demand.
“Not enough. Need greasy carbs. Get me a towel,” she orders one of my brothers. “I don’t want grease on the bedspread. Pizza smells so good, and it’s still nice and hot.”
“You had a phone on you this whole time?” I scream at her as Finn comes back with a bath towel. “That’s my good towel.” I snatch it from him.
“You can’t be acting like that at the engagement party,” Dani warns me as she pulls a slice of pizza out of the box.
“Why didn’t you call the cops?” I yell at her. “You see?” I tell Grayson, gesturing to Dani. “She’s crazy. This is not my fault.”
“You kidnapped her. It is, in fact, your fucking fault.”
“Yeah. This one’s on you.”
Ding-dong!
“I hope that’s my Chinese food.” Dani stuffs a slice of pizza in her mouth.
“I’m not paying the delivery boy this time,” Grayson hisses.
She’s sitting on the bed, chowing down on an extra-large pepperoni pizza when I return with the bags of Chinese food.
“Can I have a crab Rangoon?” Finn begs as I set down the bags.
“I hope I ordered those. I think I did. Oh no…” A piece of pepperoni falls onto the white bedspread. “See? Bed-picnic towel is needed.”
I spread it down in front of her.
“What happened to your face?” Dani demands, grabbing my chin as I try to mop up the grease stain. “Did you punch him in the face?” she shrieks at Grayson.
“Ma’am.” My oldest brother stares at the ceiling.
“I’m not that old!” Dani starts sobbing. “Why are people calling me ‘ma’am’?”
“Can I have a garlic knot?” Connor throws himself on the bed.
“Sure, cutie.”
“I’m cute.” Connor rolls on his back and eats the garlic knot.
“He looks like a little otter.” Dani fishes ice out of her wineglass and slaps it on my bruised face.
“Ow!”
“I can’t have you bruising.” She sniffles. “I need you to be in top form for Tuesday.”
“What’s happening Tuesday?” I push her hand out of the way.
“Seriously? You’re my date to my friend’s engagement party. You need to put this on your calendar.”
Ding-dong!
“Did you order any BBQ?” Finn asks her when he comes back up with yet another bag. “Where are you ordering BBQ in Manhattan?”
“There’s a place in Brooklyn.” She dumps the rest of her wine into her glass. “They have the best mac and cheese.”
“Mac and cheese.” Spencer sits on the bed and starts rummaging in the take-out bag.
“Stop ordering food.”
“I need to stock up—who knows when my kidnapper will feed me next.” She lies back on the pillows.
“Ma’am—er, Danielle.” Grayson steps forward.
“Dani.” She hiccups.
“I am so sorry for the pain and suffering my brother has caused you. We would like to compensate you for the emotional distress, the lost time—”
“And of course your silence,” Aaron adds.
“We have money invested in Graham,” Finn adds. “There’s a charity. He can’t go to jail.”
“It would be bad. For all of us.”
“Hey—you could take her as your date to your charity function,” Spencer jokes.
“Seems fair.” Dani nods. She sounds like she’s about to pass out.
“I cannot be her boyfriend,” I hiss.
“Fake boyfriend.” She holds up a finger.
“Fake kidnapper boyfriend,” Connor corrects, rummaging around in the sack of food and surfacing with an egg roll.
“No—it’s a real kidnapping and a fake relationship. No relationships.”
“Is she going to live here?” Aaron wrinkles his nose.
“No,” I snap.
“You kidnapped me—you don’t get to make demands.”
“I don’t want you in my house.”
“Then why did you snatch me off the street?” Dani hoists herself upright.
“She’s drunk and crazy—just grab her and throw her out,” I beg Grayson. “In fact, just send me to jail. She’s not living here. She’s mentally unstable. Who doesn’t call for help?”
“Got sucked into short-form content,” Dani slurs, waving her phone at me. “Did you see that dog video?”
“See, she’s a cell-phone addict!”
Grayson has his CEO face on.
“I think, perhaps, this has been an ordeal. It’s perfectly normal,” Grayson says smoothly, “for someone to think that they have a special bond with their abuser. Whatever he did to you, however he hurt you, I will personally make sure he pays.”
Dani opens one eye and peers at us.
“Oh, don’t worry—Graham made it clear there’s no special bond. The only abuse was the fur-covered chair in his closet.”
“I didn’t put that there—that was Spencer.”
“Dani, please. Can you just take the money?” Grayson begs. “Then we can forget this ever happened, and I’ll make sure you never have to see him again.”
“You guys don’t understand.” She collapses back down on the bed. “I don’t have any other option. Graham has to be my boyfriend—whether he likes it or not.”