Chapter 29
At first, I assumed the sound was inside the vent—another phone conversation, maybe. But it wasn’t a voice I’d heard, and
it wasn’t coming from inside the house.
It came from outside. Somewhere outside those locked French doors . . .
Anxiety flaring, I stood up and walked to the balcony doors to scan the backyard. That housekeeper, Ester, was down by the
pool, straightening chaise longues. I guess that’s what I heard—the sound of metal scraping across concrete. At first I thought
she was just doing her job, but she was craning her neck, peering into the trees that flanked the yard. What the hell is going
on . . . ? I watched her pull out her phone and talk into it as she swiveled and searched around the pool. Then she nodded
and left the backyard.
As she entered the home’s back door, just below the balcony, I slammed my fist against the glass, trying to get her attention,
but she disappeared into the house without looking back.
Frustrated and scared, I wilted against the balcony doors.
Until I heard the sound again.
What was that . . . ?
Some kind of heavy scraping. Of stone? Was there construction work being done on the outside of the home? Plastering, maybe?
It gave me hope that I might be able to flag a builder or contractor down, so I scanned the pool again.
The housekeeper hadn’t returned, and the chaise lounges sat neatly in a row, so they weren’t the source of the noise.
Not really a scraping noise. Not really a noise at all.
I put my hand against the glass and felt something. It felt like . . . scrabbling.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted movement between the wrought iron rails that lined the balcony. Was it a bird or something?
Hard to see anything past the massive monstera plant. Taller than me, the big-leaved plant sat outside the French doors in
an enormous steel planter, blocking my view of that side of the balcony.
But I had seen something out there. Wait. What is that . . . ?
A hand.
I jerked away from the doors, backing up a step as my heart thudded wildly against my ribcage. Someone was climbing onto the
balcony!
The hand was soon followed by another, and then a dark silhouette lurched over the balcony railing, landing behind the monstera
plant. The silhouette darted to one side, out of sight, then it moved like a shadow around the potted plant to peer into the
French doors.
Holy shit.
“Seb . . . ?”
A chaotic tangle of blond waves blew in the breeze, and two blue eyes squinted into the balcony doors, his hand blocking late-afternoon
sun so that he could see inside.
“SEB!” I whispered loudly, putting my face and both palms against the glass. Unbridled joy washed over me. I’d never been so happy
to see anyone.
His eyes snapped to mine, and a look of supreme relief fell over his face.
Tears brimmed. I just couldn’t help it. “I can’t get out!”
He jiggled the door and mouthed, “Fuck.”
“I’ve tried everything,” I told him miserably, remembering that my father claimed this room was soundproofed. Could Seb even
hear me?
He was still wearing his marina T-shirt, and it had engine grease streaked on it. His eyes flicked around the balcony until
they stopped on the big monstera plant. He looked at me and held up one finger then shooed me away from the doors.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. But I backed away when he bent over, muscles flexing, and picked up the giant plant. And
when he swung its big steel planter back to get leverage, I knew he meant business, so I rapidly doubled back once more and
moved out of the way.
Half throwing, half swinging it, Seb launched the monstera at the French doors. With a terrible crash, glass exploded inward,
and the wood framing splintered. He hadn’t smashed the entire set of double doors, only one side—and the monstera planter
was half-stuck in the broken glass. But when he kicked the planter farther into the room, he was able to knock away glass
with one of the monstera branches and quickly stepped through behind it, white Adidas crunching the shrapnel.
“Seb!” I cried out, flying into his arms.
He squeezed me tightly. “Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”
“He fucking kidnapped me!” I said, and then exhaled. “But I’m not hurt.”
“Thank God.” He released me quickly and glanced at the bedroom door, saying, “Someone would’ve heard that.”
“How did you find me?” I asked, still stunned.
“Benny called. We figured you came out here, but Jaz still has your location enabled, so that confirmed it.”
Jaz and I never thought to turn off location sharing when I left for Harvard, thank God.
“We saw you on her phone just in time, too. Like, less than a minute later, your phone turned off while we were looking at
the location. I knew it couldn’t be dead because I put it on the charger last night.”
He had, indeed. Who could ask for a better roommate?
“You never turn off your phone. So that told me you were in trouble. Only tricky part was trying to figure out where you were in the house, especially after we didn’t
see you in any of the first-floor windows.”
Panic flared. “Jaz and Benny are here? My father’s insane. I don’t know what he’ll do if he catches them.”
“Don’t worry about them. Let’s take care of us first,” he said matter-of-factly. He’d always been good at staying calm in
tricky situations. I was so grateful he was here. I should’ve known I could count on him. Why did I ever doubt it?
A bright, warm sensation bloomed in my chest, obliterating all the panic and fear. It felt like I was on the threshold of
a door that might lead to a brave, new world if I was willing to take a chance. But once I stepped through, I could never
return.
“I need to tell you something important!” I said, grabbing the front of his shirt.
“Paige—”
“Sebastian Jansen, I fucking love you. We have to figure out a way to be together when I go back to school because I can’t
lose you again.”
His eyes went glossy as he blinked at me.
He brought my face to his and kissed me roughly. Just for a moment. Then he pulled back and said, “I fucking love you, too,
Paige Malone. But if we’re going to have any future outside these walls, we need to hustle, okay? So come on!”
But we didn’t have time to escape.
Heavy footfalls rushed toward the bedroom door.
A moment later, it clicked and swung open.
My father looked around the room, breathing like he’d just run a marathon. He took in the broken balcony door, the glass . . .
and Seb.
“Did you just break my door? Who the hell do you think you are?”
Seb got in front of me and reached for something that stuck out of the back of the khaki shorts he was wearing.
Oh no. Oh no, no, no . . .
Seb pointed a sawed-off shotgun at my father with such aplomb, even I forgot it was a prop for a split second. “That’s a question I should be asking you, motherfucker.”
Sometimes all you need is a little flash.
Most definitely a move the real-life Calico Jack would’ve appreciated.
My father’s hands went up in the air slowly. His eyes narrowed. “Is that Frank Jansen’s kid? Christ. Okay, listen. I can see
we’re all emotional right now, so why don’t we take it down a notch—”
“Back the fuck up,” Seb said.
My father raised his hands higher. “Look, I get it. Everyone wants a piece of the Golden Venus. But seriously, what would you do if you actually got your hands on it? Do you know who to sell it to? How to protect it and yourself? Because you know once the world knows you have it, bad people will try to take it from you.”
“Bad people like you?” I asked.
He lowered his hands a little. “Come on, Paige. I’m not the bad guy here.”
“You’re literally the bad guy!” I shouted. “Look around! You’ve been holding me hostage—good people don’t do that!”
“This is hardly a prison cell. That mattress alone is worth more than that beach cottage you’ve been holing up inside.”
“Goody for you,” I said darkly.
“That cottage was never meant to be occupied in the winter, you know. It was just a summer house. Kitty spent the last of
her cash getting it insulated after your mom died. I could never understand why—not even a valuable piece of lakefront.”
It sounded like he knew a lot more about me than I did about him. And where was he going with this?
“I can help you with that,” my father said. “Get you into a real house. Something in Haven Beach, or if you’re going back
to Harvard, I’ll buy you something out there. I’ll even go downstairs and write you a check right now—to show you that I’m
speaking in good faith.”
“So generous,” Seb said. “Can’t imagine there’d be a catch to that.”
“No catch,” my father insisted. “Just let me help you retrieve the Golden Venus. I’ll get the rings from the Vanderburgs,
and we’ll ride out together. You just say where, and I’ll drop everything I’m doing today and go with you. We’ll do it together—we
can be a family again, Paige. This statue was meant to stay in the family, so let’s honor that, okay, baby?”
He couldn’t sound less convincing if he tried. And to be honest, I wasn’t sure he really was. No way in hell he actually thought it would convince me.
I held out my hand. “Why don’t you start this little show of good faith by giving me my phone back.”
His hands dropped to his pants pockets, which he patted, giving me a sheepish look. “Sorry, I must’ve put it down somewhere.
We can go find it together, if you’d just ask your friend to put the gun down. Come on, Paige. This is silly. We’re family.”
A female voice called out distantly from somewhere in the house. “Mr. Lee? I have the key. Do you want me to release them?”
Something like a smile came over my father’s face. He shouted behind him, “Go on, Ester. Let’s see if Thing One and Thing
Two can make these two kids start thinking more reasonably.”
He stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly.
“Hey!” Seb warned, pointing Calico Jack more firmly at my father. “Don’t move, or—”
I, too, wanted to know what Seb was going to say after that “or,” but he didn’t get a chance. My father turned on his heel
and raced out the bedroom door.
“Son of a bitch!” Seb said.
The good thing was that he’d left the bedroom door open.
The bad thing was that something big was galloping down the hallway toward us. A pair of them. I caught a glimpse through
the open doorway of two sleek Dobermans with studded collars running hell-for-leather toward us.
Thing One and Thing Two.
My blood turned to ice as a little whimper escaped my lips.
Why did it have to be Dobermans . . . ?
“Shit!” Seb said, abandoning the prop gun on the bed to grab my hand. “Out the balcony!”
We raced toward it, shoes crunching on the broken glass, and ducked through the broken door, onto the balcony.
If I’d thought I was too far up when I first evaluated the balcony from inside the room, being out here now made me realize
I’d been wrong.
It was much farther down than I’d imagined.
How had Seb climbed up here? Ornamental trees grew below. I could see a path from the trees to a drainpipe, to a small ledge
that connected to the balcony. But the dogs were baring down on us. I could feel their galloping under my feet.
“No time,” Seb shouted when I looked toward the area he’d used to climb up here.
The dogs burst into the room behind us. They barked like demons from the pit of hell, and a terrible, old fear came over me,
irrational and urgent. I froze in place as if they’d turned me to stone with their shiny, black demon eyes.
They lurched into the room but stopped midway through when one of them stepped on glass and made a high-pitched whine. The
dog frantically bit at its paw while the other backed away a step, wary. But then it held its ground, barking so loud it made
me shudder.
“PAIGE!”
I shook myself and became aware of Seb tugging me toward the railing. He began climbing, and that’s when it hit me . . . what
he intended for us to do.
“N-no,” I said, shaking my head.
“No choice. Just like Benny’s dock. You’ve done it a thousand times.”
Wrong. He’d done it a thousand times; this was as high up as the top deck on Benny’s river dock, and I’d never jumped from there. The pool felt impossibly far away, and it wasn’t below us. It was several feet away.
The dogs barked behind us, and past them, through the open doorway, I could see movement coming up the stairs.
Dammit.
Seb was right. No choice now.
It’s just like a paddleboard, I told myself. You can do this . . . I climbed onto the railing next to him, wobbling precariously on my bad ankle, and used every ounce of my leg strength to
slowly push myself up and stand.
Sweat bloomed.
The pool below swayed in my vision.
I could feel Seb’s weight shift on the railing next to me, but I didn’t dare turn my head. Didn’t look directly down at the
concrete or the chaise lounges lined up neatly by Ester. I just took a deep breath—
“One,” Seb counted from my side. “Two . . .”
He grabbed my hand.
“Three!”
And we jumped.