Chapter 22 - Blair
I can’t stop smiling. I feel like a little girl, grinning and giggling all the time.
I can’t believe how lucky I am and how amazing everything in my life has become in such a short time. I can’t believe he said he loves me, and I keep replaying the moment in my memory so I can hear it again and again.
Even now, sitting in the back of the car as a driver and a guard escort me to work, I am still thinking about it.
I want to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.
Simon left very early for work this morning to finalize some things for Lindsey’s flight.
He wants to get her out of the city by ten this morning.
Everything has been organized, and he has his best men on it.
She will be fetched from the safe house, and as soon as she sets foot on the plane, she will disappear.
Lindsey will no longer exist. Her new identity will take over, and Jaco and his family will never be able to find her.
For extra safety, even Simon doesn’t know where her new life is being set up.
He transferred the funds needed into a trust account that his lawyers have access to.
Then he hired an elite force to help him set it all up, and it sounds to me like they are doing a better job than even witness protection could have.
Lindsey is going to be fine. I hope she is going to be happy in her new life.
I am now on my way to the office too, wanting to get back to normal and into routine.
I think I might run upstairs and kiss him before I go into the office for the day. A sneaky little visit with my husband.
That man is the most amazing person I have ever met. I never thought I would get to find out what real love feels like in my life. The kind I see in the movies and read about in books. I have that.
I smile and look up to ask the driver how much longer it will be until we arrive at the office building. But as I do, an ear-shattering sound comes out of nowhere, and all the air is punched from my lungs as I am body slammed into the car door.
The car lurches across the road and rolls, throwing me against the safety belt, making it cut into my shoulder painfully. An airbag bursts, punching me again and stinging my face.
I scream without knowing for sure it’s me screaming.
The car rocks to a standstill on its side against a lamp post. The airbag deflates, spent after having served its purpose.
I’m fighting for a breath. Winded and terrified, I clutch my hand over my chest and try to force my mind to slow down. Don’t panic. Panic will help nothing.
In the front seat, the guard and driver are shouting at each other. The guard has his gun in his hand, and they are trying to kick the front window out.
From the front-side window, glass smashes inward. It glitters over the two men like rain. Both of them turn, their eyes closed to shield against the glass, and they open fire, aiming up at whoever is standing over the car.
I’ve never heard gunfire this close before. It’s louder than I could ever have imagined.
I cover my ears and take in a sharp breath. Relieved to be breathing, but then I’m screaming again.
Blood splatters from the front of the car as their bodies become riddled with bullets.
In a matter of seconds, both men are dead. My chest looks like a canvas of art splattered in bright red paint. My mind refuses to accept that it’s blood. I reach up with shaking hands to touch my face and realize it’s also covered in their blood, which comes away warm and sticky on my fingertips.
The door next to me, or above me, yanks open, and hands reach into the car, grabbing at me.
Someone cuts the safety belt from my body. Men shout orders at each other. Everything feels like a dream as I am lifted from the overturned car.
They drag me across the street, also glittering with shattered glass, and throw me into the back of a black SUV.
“Who are you!?” I demand, finding my voice.
But their only response is to throw a bag over my head and tell me to shut up.
***
My body is roughly dumped onto a hard chair, and I let out a pained groan as one of my ribs is still aching fiercely from the crash. For a second, I wonder if it’s broken, but I don’t have time to worry about that. I’ve been kidnapped. My life is in danger.
My hands are grabbed and tied behind my back, awkwardly wrapped around the back of the chair.
Someone grabs the hood and yanks it off my head, hurting me and scratching my skin.
I squint against the harsh light shining directly into my face.
“Who are you!?” I demand, unable to see anything except that light.
“Where is Lindsey!? What did Simon do with her!?” A deep voice demands.
I shake my head, refusing to answer. “Who are you!?” I ask again.
“Fucking tells us where Lindsey is! Did you hurt her!? Did you harm her in any way!?”
“What?” I stammer, confused. Are these people worried about Lindsey?
In a rage, the person questioning me punches the light, sending it flying across the room.
The sudden change in light makes it too dark for me to see, but slowly my eyes begin to adjust.
I’m in the basement.
I’m sitting on a small wooden chair that looks like a farmhouse chair.
There are four people standing around me. They all look furious.
“Who are you?” I whisper this time, nervous about their intense expressions and realizing that anger and boldness are going to get me nowhere with them.
But I already know the answer. I can’t remember their names, but I remember their faces from when I met them at the gala. Two of them, anyway. Jaco’s parents.
“My name is David Marcas. I am Jaco’s father.
We’ve met before. This is his brother, and this is his cousin.
This is my wife, Clara Marcas. And I swear, if Simon has harmed Lindsey in any way, he is going to find your body carved up and dumped on the street outside his home. Now tell us where she is!”
My eyes grow wide with fear, and I start to shake all over.
“Please, please don’t hurt me. I didn’t hurt Lindsey.
I wouldn’t do that. Please, this is all a misunderstanding.
” My voice is small and timid, and I notice how David takes a minute step back.
He responds to my weakness more than my demanding tone.
He obviously cares about Lindsey’s well-being. He clearly knows nothing about what Jaco was doing to her.
“We helped her,” I stammer, continuing to come across as weak and scared because it is buying me time to figure out what the hell to do.
“Bullshit. She’s lying. The whole Popov family is a bunch of liars, and she’s one of them now!” Jaco’s cousin steps forward, holding a knife to my throat. I freeze, genuinely terrified at the look in his eyes.
“I…I can prove it,” I blurt out.
“What can you prove, you lying little bitch? You can’t trust a word she says!” The cousin is aggressive. It’s clear he’s willing to do anything to make me talk.
“It’s on my phone!” I blurt out again. “Where is my phone. You took it from me in the car. I can show you!”
“Where the hell is her phone?” David Marcas snaps.
My eyes drift to Clara. She is standing back, watching everything from a distance.
Her eyes are filled with worry and disgust. Somehow, I get the feeling that she really cares for Lindsey and is willing to go through with this to get her home safely.
She can’t know what Jaco is doing. I have to show them.
“Don’t give her the phone! It’s a trick!” his cousin demands.
“Shut up, Luke. I want to see what’s on the phone,” David snaps.
It’s Jaco’s brother who walks toward me with my phone.
He doesn’t hand it to me. He holds it in front of me and says, “What is your code?”
“Seven. Seven. Eight. Four.”
He punches it in, and my phone unlocks. “Now what?” he snarls.
“Go to my gallery. When I was speaking to Lindsey, I filmed it. I thought I was going to trick her into giving away how Jaco has been lying to everyone. But we ended up finding out something else entirely,” I explain.
“It’s the most recent video in my gallery.
Fast forward a little, around five minutes into the video. ”
He taps at the screen a few times, and voices come through the speaker.
Everyone crowds around my phone to watch, and I stare at them, feeling tense, hopeful, and nervous.
They listen in heavy silence to the conversation between Talia, Lindsey, and me. The one we had sitting at the table outside the coffee shop.
It’s almost at the end of the conversation.
“I’ll go with you,” Lindsey’s voice whispers. “I don’t want to go back to him.” She sounds terrified, even now as I listen again.
The video ends, and the Marcas family stands in stunned silence, staring at the phone, then at each other.
“Where did you take her after the safe house?” the cousin demands.
“Luke, I fucking swear if you don’t shut up right now, I am going to make you leave,” David snarls. “I need to think! Where the fuck is Jaco? I want to know what the fuck this is about!”
“He says he will be here in ten minutes.” It’s the first thing Clara has said the entire time I’ve been here.
David paces up and down, shaking his head. “It might be a trick. Maybe they forced her to say it?” Jaco’s brother mutters, but he doesn’t sound convinced.
Suddenly, the door at the top of the stairs explodes open, shattering as wood splinters fly in all directions. Several men run down the stairs, dressed head to toe in black Kevlar and carrying heavy weapons.
The man in front pulls his mask down and runs to me.
“Simon!” I yelp in relief, fighting tears as emotions overwhelm me.
His guards hold the Marcas family at bay while he pulls me into his arms.
“My phone,” I stammer, pointing at Jaco’s brother. A guard snatches it from him.
Simon hardly glances at the Marcas family, standing in awkward silence with their hands raised in the air. He takes my hand and leads me out of the basement without a word.
“Where is Lindsey!?” David shouts after us, but Simon ignores him.
Outside, we hurry into the vehicles Simon and his men arrived in. He pulls me into the back seat as a driver climbs into the front seat.
In no time at all, we are speeding away.
“Are you okay?” Simon demands, pulling me onto his lap on the back seat.
I nod, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in the curve of his neck. I can’t believe he came so quickly. I can’t believe how safe this man makes me feel.
“They aren’t following,” the driver says in surprise.
“Keep your foot flat on the pedal. You can’t trust them,” Simon snaps.
“What’s the plan, sir?” the guard next to us asks.
“Marlen and Bardil are making contact with David Marcas as we speak. They will sort this out before it turns into an all-out war. Just take us home. I want to get Blair somewhere safe.”