21. Katherine
KATHERINE
I feel like I could more easily understand astrophysics than what my eyes are telling me right now.
My kidnapper opens the sliding door, letting in the ocean breeze and a hint of perfume. The strong floral scent is laced with baby powder, offering a confirmation of what my brain and heart already know.
Betrayal ricochets through me, my muscles and tendons tightening, and I dig my nails into my palms.
“Mother?” The word comes out as a question, laced with surprise. But that feels performative because I’m not that surprised.
Enraged, yes.
Schooling my features takes every ounce of willpower I possess, and I fall back on decades of practice.
“Called it,” Tyler murmurs.
My mother strides into the room, perfectly quaffed in a light pink suit and sensible nude heels, as if she just came from the boardroom. She’s certainly not dressed for time at sea. Or even a sinister plot. Goosebumps explode over my skin.
“Katherine, Tyler,” she says. “So lovely to see you.”
Is she kidding right now? My temper flares hotter, but before I can respond, another round of footsteps echoes across the deck boards, and a man in a suit comes down the rear steps. I’ve never seen him before, but he has salt and pepper hair and a few lines around his eyes and mouth.
My frown deepens as my attention ping-pongs between the two of them. Who the hell is he? Is she cheating on my stepfather and Tyler with this guy? He looks a little too old and straight-laced for something like that. Then again, those are always the ones you never suspect.
Further proving my point, she doesn’t introduce us.
“Were there any problems?” Mother glances back at my kidnapper.
“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” he says, and I swear there’s a little smirk beneath his scruff.
Nothing they couldn’t handle? The question is shrill inside my skull.
The remnants of my fear fade away. I take a deep breath and lift my chin, staring him down. It takes one and a half seconds for him to look away.
“They shot my bodyguard,” I tell her, and the newcomer’s jaw drops.
More than he bargained for? Me too!
The bang of the gunshot is seared into my brain. Roman’s gasp. The way he fell. I have no memory of what happened after that, but I have to believe he’s going to be okay. The alternative is unthinkable.
I don’t know why I think the harsh truth of what her men did will gain me any empathy. She has none. I know this, and yet…
Nope. I search myself, checking in with my heart and soul. There’s no hope left where she’s concerned. She severed that last thread with the precision of a scalpel.
“That’s unfortunate,” she murmurs, staring me down like I’m an employee stepping out of line. I mean, I always knew she had the emotional range of a rock, but her lack of concern over a man’s life is a new low, even for her.
“Unfortunate?” At the last possible second, I manage to keep the word from coming out as a pained scream.
Surely someone heard and called nine-one-one.
I have to believe that Roman’s getting the help he needs.
I have to. Anything else makes me woozy and weak.
Right now, those are two things I absolutely can’t allow.
Cloaking myself in an icy shell, I tip my head ever so slightly and give my haughtiest, “I’d like an update on his condition. ”
And I’d think she would too. She’s responsible for everything she set in motion.
Later, I’ll sit with the knowledge that my mother masterminded all this chaos. But right now, I keep my hands clamped to my hips so she can’t see them shake.
“We don’t know anything about that. Now, let’s get to it, shall we?” She waves the man forward.
It?
“You can call and find out,” I challenge, not ready to let this drop.
“Get to what, Lucinda?” Tyler asks.
“I’m so glad you asked.” She ignores my request and offers him a tight smile.
Seriously. What the hell is happening right now? Is she on drugs? Brain tumor? There’s got to be an explanation, right? Or maybe her behavior stems from a chemical imbalance? A mental ailment I don’t know about?
“You’re just going to ignore me?”
She turns her attention from Tyler to me, the smile melting to a perturbed frown. “You’re not adding to the conversation, Katherine.”
I run my tongue over my front teeth. My anger cools from a wild boil to a carefully contained simmer. The kind that could erupt violently at any moment.
“Bloody hell, Lucinda,” Tyler grouses.
I glance back to find him glaring at my mother. That’s a first. He truly is done with her bullshit.
“Don’t worry. I’m used to her ignoring me.” I can’t help but make the jab. Then I turn back to the man at my mother’s side because not knowing who he is is like a pebble in my shoe. “I’m Katherine, by the way. Lucinda’s daughter. And you are?”
He opens his mouth, but in typical fashion, my mother cuts him off.
“Don’s here to officiate your wedding.”
Officiate my wedding? My chin jerks back as if she punched me.
“What?” Tyler barks, losing a little bit of control of his temper. At least one of us gets to yell at her.
I wish it were me.
Once again, I rein in my anger. Fudgecakes, I’m going to need an antacid soon. “I can’t marry Tyler. I’ve told you that.”
“You can and you will.”
Deep breath. I rub my fingers in between my eyes and then lock eyes with my mother again. Tyler’s right. She’s lost touch with reality.
Stepping forward, I hold out a hand toward the doors she just came through. “Let’s go outside and talk.”
She doesn’t budge, but she also doesn’t stop me. “Oh, Katherine, there’s nothing to talk about.”
“Yes, Mother, there is. And I doubt you want an audience.” I glance pointedly at Don.
She sighs and offers a tight smile. “If you’ll excuse us.”
At least I can depend on her rigid upbringing. I step out onto the deck and wave her through. The men close the heavy sliding door immediately.
The air is a little cool and humid. A breeze catches my hair and sends it flying. Hers doesn’t move, and I wonder how much product she’s woven into the strands.
She nods to the two men flanking the door, and they move to the back of the deck.
A tiny tendril of relief wraps around me.
I can’t get ahead of myself, and I really need to tread carefully here.
As much as I might feel like the adult in this situation, I have zero doubts she’s paying these people handsomely to do whatever she says.
And while I doubt she could physically harm me, she’s never been one to get dirt beneath her nails, she’d order it done in a heartbeat.
Clasping her hands in front of herself, she turns her attention to me.
“What were you thinking, Mother?” It’s the safest question I can think of when what I really want is to scream, ‘You had me kidnapped!’ That’s not going to go over well right now.
She gives a little shrug, but it’s hardly perceptible beneath her shoulder pads. “We’re killing multiple birds with one stone. You need a husband and?—”
I can’t help it. I laugh. “You never listen.”
Her poise fails her for a moment, but then she rolls her eyes. “Don’t be silly, of course I do.”
“You really don’t,” I murmur and lace my fingers together because at this point, I honestly don’t trust myself to not lash out. The vengeful part of me that loves taking out my aggression on the punching bag is getting, well, punchy.
“Time is running out, Katherine.”
My jaw drops, but I quickly snap it shut, a terrible thought whispering through my mind. I can’t stop myself from giving voice to it. “Have you forgotten when my birthday is?”
“Don’t be absurd.” She throws her hands up and turns away.
I glance past her at the ocean, then take a quick look around. We’re definitely several miles out. I don’t see anything, not even another boat. Not that I was holding out hope of flagging down a passerby.
“I can’t think of any other reason for you to be in such a rush.
” I move to one of the padded stools bolted to the floor in front of the bar.
Whoever owns this place really spared no expense.
There are exquisite touches everywhere I look.
Too bad I’m not here to enjoy the infinity pool or the dozen lounge chairs.
I can almost see my guys here, though, frolicking, showing off, teasing me to climax.
Perching gingerly, ready to bolt but trying to look at ease, I shake off the wistfulness. Instead, I quickly try to calculate how many decks there are and just how far away the helipad is. They’re often on the front of yachts. And I’m guessing at least one deck up.
She turns on me, her brows pinched, lips turned down, eyes wide. “Of course you can’t.”
“Of course I can’t!” I agree, voice rising. “You dropped this on me and act like I’m out of line. I have no idea what’s going on with you.”
Come to think of it, my money’s on menopause.
“Well, maybe if you were around more?—”
“Don’t put this on me.”
She clenches her hands at her sides, flexes them and takes a deep breath.
“Just talk to me. What’s going on?” I couldn’t care less at this point, but I’m buying time. I have zero doubts that King is looking for me. And Alex is probably back in the city. Dare I hope that Gabe has cooled down enough to miss me? Would they even have the first clue where to look?
How can I send a signal?
The yacht my dad chartered the summer before I turned sixteen had an office. What level was that on?
Mother stares through the doors, and for the first time in a long time, I can see indecision in her.
One of the benefits of being known as an ice queen is that people think I’m not paying attention. They let down their guard, and tongues wag. It normally doesn’t take much to get people talking about themselves or trying to impress me.
She, of course, is a tougher nut to crack. I can’t remember the last time she wasn’t steamrolling through life. She presses her lips together. So stubborn. I guess we both got that from her father. Which is an important lesson in itself. I have to be flexible to get what I really want.
“Can’t you just do what I ask?”