Chapter 34
thirty-four
SADIE
“What the hell are you doing?” I demand as Darien drags me toward the bookshop.
My feet are bare now – my second shoe fell off in the back of the van when he yanked me out of there – but it doesn’t make it any easier to walk in this damn ballgown.
“Do you know how many people will be out looking for me?” I say.
“And you’ve got a gun. Do you know how stupid that is? ”
“Shut up,” Darien huffs. “I’m trying to think here.”
I can feel the warm blacktop against my soles as he drags me toward Books by the Sea.
The whole of Main Street is empty of cars and people.
It feels almost eerie how quiet it is here, with only the soft sound of the ocean cutting the dark night.
“Just let me go,” I plead, because I’m desperate to go back to Zach. To see if he’s okay.
Please let him be okay. Because if he’s hurt, or worse…
But Darien doesn’t let go of his hold on me. Instead, he stops in front of the door. “Open it.”
“You’re on parole,” I say to him. “And you’ve hit a man, you’ve kidnapped me. And…”
“Shut the fuck up!” Darien turns on me, his eyes furious. “Or I’ll shut you up.”
He jabs the gun against my back again.
“Darien, you’re going to end up back in jail. You know that, right? You’re going to be arrested again and they’re going to throw the book at you and for what? Because you want a stupid painting?”
He gives me a look. And I realize that I’m at a distinct disadvantage here. Barefoot, in a floor length ballgown, with a gun against my spine.
I close my mouth.
“Okay then,” he says, sounding way too satisfied as he pushes open the bookshop door. “Do exactly as I tell you and nobody’s going to get hurt.”
The bell above it gives a cheerful jingle that doesn’t belong in a hostage situation. Darien shoves me inside, kicking the door shut behind us, before sliding the lock into place.
That’s when I see the paperbacks and bookish merchandise strewn across the floor. The place has been ransacked.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, tears stinging at my eyes. “Did you do this?”
He shrugs. “If you hadn’t taken my picture, none of this would have happened.” He nudges the gun against my waist, like he’s trying to remind me who’s boss. “Unlock the storeroom.” he instructs me, stopping in front of the keypad.
“What happens after this?” I ask him. “Will you let me go?”
“If you’re a good girl, yeah.”
My mouth twitches. God, it sounds so tacky coming from him.
“If you’ve hurt Zach…”
He laughs. “What a dick. God, he was so easy to fool. Didn’t even see me standing next to him.”
It takes me two attempts to key the code in. The lock releases and the door opens and Darien pushes me inside.
The floor is concrete. It’s cold and dusty against my bare feet. I lead him past the shelves of books, past the boxes full of merch, to the back of the storeroom. “Which one is it?” he asks, looking at the wrapped paintings stacked against the wall.
I’m not stupid. I’m not going to play games here. I don’t care about the damn painting. “That one,” I say, pointing to the frame that Zach and I wrapped only days ago.
“Good. Take it out of the packaging. And don’t make any stupid moves. This gun is loaded.”
I let out a low breath. “I’m not an idiot.”
“Yeah, well you were idiotic enough to underestimate me,” Darien says.
And to date him. I don’t add that though.
It takes me longer than it should to unwrap the painting. Mostly because I don’t have a knife to cut through the string. Instead I have to undo the knots and my fingers are way too shaky to do it easily. Darien lets out a huff and I try to speed up.
And when it’s finally loose I pull off the brown paper, revealing the woman standing there, still looking out at the sea. Still waiting.
“There. You can take it now,” I tell him. “Just leave. I won’t tell anybody where you’ve gone.”
Darien looks at me like I’ve just told him to swim back to the mainland. “I don’t need the damn painting,” he tells me.
I blink, confused. “What do you mean you don’t want it? Then why did you bring me here?”
“Take the backing off,” he says, ignoring my question. He gestures the gun at me and I turn the painting around, pulling at the rectangle of paper stapled on the back, ripping it off so it reveals the rear side of the painted canvas.
And that’s when I see numbers written on it. In what looks like pencil.
I stare at them, trying to figure out what they mean. “Did you write these?” I ask him.
But he’s too busy getting his phone out with one hand, still holding the gun with the other. “Take a photo of it for me.”
“You want this number?” I say. “Is this what you wanted all along? Why didn’t you say so?”
“Because you would have erased the motherfucker out. Now take the damn photo, Sadie.”
I snap it, then pass the phone back to him. He looks at it, nodding grimly. “Now erase it.”
“Huh?”
“Erase the number. I want it gone. Come on.”
“With an eraser?” I clarify.
“Yep.”
“I don’t have one.”
“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters. “Just use some spit.”
“You want me to spit on a painting?”
“On the back of it, yes.” He points the gun at me again. So I do it. I spit on my finger, rub it along the back of the canvas, and the whole number turns into a gray smudge.
“If you want a job done,” he mutters, walking forward and rubbing at it with his free hand.
“What is it?” I ask, way too nosy for my own good. “A bank account number?”
“Swiss,” he says, looking stupidly proud of himself. “With more money in it than you can ever dream of.”
For about two milliseconds I think about trying to grab the gun from his other hand. But then there’s a loud bang on the shop door.
“Darien Calvin,” a loud voice shouts out.
“Fuck,” Darien spits out. He starts rubbing the number harder.
“We know you’re in there.”
“Should I go answer the door?” I ask hopefully.
“No, you shouldn’t.” He shakes his head at me. “Don’t say a word,” he hisses. “I still have a gun, remember?”
“I think they know we’re here,” I point out.
“Ah fuck.” He runs his free hand through his hair. “Come here.” He grabs me again, wrapping his hand around my waist as he puts the cold tip of the gun against my brow.
And all wise ass responses dissolve from my tongue. I can feel how panicky he is. His hand is shaking, making the gun wobble against my skin.
“Darien, please…”
“Shut up. Just do exactly what I say.” He walks me toward the door that leads out of the storeroom into the shop. The front door handle rattles again, there are low voices coming from outside. Darien tightens his hold on me, and I can feel how scared he is.
Not that I would care. But scared men don’t make great captors. Especially when they have a gun to your head.
“Tell them I’m armed,” he whispers against my ear. “And I’m dangerous.”
“He has a gun,” I shout out.
“Sadie? Is that you? Are you okay?”
Zach’s panicked voice comes from beyond the door. And I’m so damn relieved to hear it.
“I’m fine.” Apart from being held captive by my gun-toting ex who seems like he’s on the edge of a nervous breakdown.
The whispering starts again. Followed by another shout.
“Darien, we have the place surrounded.” That sounds like Asher’s voice, but more deadly. “Let Sadie go and we can discuss what you want from us.”
Darien lets out a humorless laugh. “I’m not an idiot,” he shouts out. “She’s going nowhere until I get what I want.”
I swallow. Hard.
“If you hurt her you’ll regret it.” That’s Zach again. A rush of warmth pools deep in me. More hushed voices follow. I can feel Darien standing stiff behind me.
“Tell us what you need, and we’ll organize it,” Asher replies. “As long as you promise to let her go.”
Darien shifts his feet. I stand stock still, determined not to make any sudden moves.
“I want a boat,” he shouts out. “The gas tank full. Keys in the engine, the engine running.”
“Okay,” Asher replies. “Give me ten minutes and we’ll get it for you.”
“Hmm,” Darien says, like this is too easy. “And I want some caviar.”
I whip my head around. “What? You don’t even like caviar.”
“They said I could have what I want.” He shrugs. “And that shit’s expensive, you know?”
The man really is an idiot.
“We just need to know Sadie’s okay first,” Asher calls out. “Will you let us see her?”
“No,” Darien says. “I’m not a fucking imbecile.”
“I’m fine,” I call out. “Although no caviar for me. I ate earlier.”
There’s a beat of silence, then Zach lets out a laugh that sounds more like a snarl. “Let her go, Darien.”
“Not gonna happen,” Darien shouts back. He pulls me back a little, like he thinks someone might be sneaking up. “Get me that boat. You’ve got nine minutes now.”
Outside, I hear voices on the radio and the roar of some engines as cars arrive and leave. They’re working fast. Good. Because I need this to be over. I let out a long breath as we wait, Darien’s hold on me tightening, like he thinks I might bolt.
And I think I would too. If there wasn’t a gun pressed to my head.
I have no idea how much time has passed before we hear Asher’s voice again. All I know is that my legs are aching and I’m so damn tired that I’m almost slumped against my ex.
“Okay, the boat is ready,” Asher calls out. “It’s at the ferry dock.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Darien shouts back.
“Because you have a woman at gunpoint,” Asher replies, not unreasonably.
Darien lets out a little growl. “You all need to leave. Get the vehicles out of here then we’ll go without any fuss. Do a single thing to double cross me, and this bitch gets it, understood?”
“Understood,” Asher says. “We’re pulling out now. Just let Sadie go and we’ll leave.”
“She’s coming with me.”
For a second there’s no sound. I can’t even breathe. What?
“I’ll let her go when I’m back on dry land,” Darien says.
This time I’m the one who starts shaking. I don’t trust him. Not one bit. He’s an idiot and he’s scared and he’s desperate. It’s a terrible combination.
“Just let me go,” I whisper to him.
He shakes his head.
“Do you promise?” Asher asks.