Double

Chapter 3

Tinsley

It was the eve of my wedding to Sterling Gillespie.

Once my aunt made us aware of her plans, and Mr. Gillespie threatened the lives of all my relatives, I sank into a deep depression.

Between my aunt and my fiancé, I was under both surveillance and a twenty-four-hour suicide watch.

They were smart to watch me, though, because there was no way I wouldn’t do something drastic if given the chance.

I needed to get out of the situation, but I didn’t know how that would happen.

The day after my aunt’s dinner party, Sterling Gillespie made an official announcement through Parliament that he had proposed to the woman he’d been secretly seeing.

That woman was me. A huge diamond ring was shoved on my finger, and I was forced into a sensible dress and paraded in front of the media.

There was often a person with me who was listed as my personal security agent.

He typically held a gun to my back under the guise of guiding me while I walked.

While I attended dog and pony shows to sell the idea that I was happily betrothed to Mr. Gillespie, my aunt and uncle were often secured to chairs and held at gunpoint.

I was constantly reminded that if I ever acted like I was anything but in love with Mr. Gillespie, Moses and Lianna would be killed.

“Blink twice if you want me to get you out of here,” Faylise whispered as she sat on the sofa next to me.

I wanted her to shut up because, even though Gillespie’s henchmen had been asked to stay outside of the house, I was convinced that my aunt’s home was bugged. “I’m good. I’m enjoying my blessing ceremony.”

On the island of Iredia, it was customary for every bride to have a blessing ceremony.

It took place on the evening before the wedding.

It consisted of the women from both families getting together, fellowshipping, cooking, and sharing a meal.

The groom’s mother would sometimes teach her future daughter-in-law how to prepare the groom’s favorite dishes.

Gillespie had a full staff at his palatial waterfront mansion.

He wouldn’t need me to cook. Instead, he and Gretchen hired a much sought-after chef from America to prepare the food for my party.

Sometimes, a blessing ceremony would evolve into a henna party, where the bride’s arms were done up in an intricate pattern. But this wasn’t a mutual marriage. I was being forced, and henna was for happy brides. I refused to incorporate henna.

Gretchen allowed me to forgo the henna, but there was no getting out of the traditional sleepover.

My aunt insisted that all of the women gather at her home and be prepared to spend the night.

She even let me invite Faylise so nothing would seem suspicious.

I was pretty sure that the fact that my mouth was forever turned down, and my eyes were red from crying, was a dead giveaway that something suspicious was at play.

I let Gretchen have her delusion, though.

It seemed to be part of her personality.

The chef was in the kitchen, throwing down.

It wasn’t the same chef who’d served us at my funeral.

That was how I thought of Gretchen’s dinner party.

It was the last day that I felt truly alive.

Anyway, that one was a man. This one was a woman.

It didn’t matter who cooked the food when Gretchen had given her the same menu.

It was heavy on beef, chicken, and pork dishes when she knew I didn’t eat meat.

When the chef announced that dinner was ready, the guests—most of whom I didn’t know because they were related to Mr. Gillespie—moved to the dining table. Gretchen led me over with a fake smile on her face as she secretly dug her nails into my shoulders.

“The future bride should sit at the head of the table. The seat of honor,” Lianna said with a smile as fake as Gretchen’s as she intercepted me. She wrapped her arm around my shoulder and led me away.

As the food was placed on the table, I looked at it with disdain. I hadn’t had much of an appetite in the month I’d been held captive at my aunt’s home. That was lucky for me because there wasn’t much on the table I could eat without getting sick.

“I heard you’re a pescatarian, baby,” the chef said in her American accent that was similar to Lianna’s. Maybe she was from the American South, too. “I’ve prepared a few special dishes just for you, my love.” She gave me a wink.

I wasn’t sure what to think, so I ignored it. I didn’t trust anybody at that table except Faylise and Lianna.

“Who told you that she was a pescatarian?” Gretchen questioned, eyeing the chef.

The chef gave her an easy shrug. “Mr. Gillespie, of course. He contacted me to give him a rundown of the menu. When he heard that there was no seafood on the menu for his pescatarian bride-to-be, he was not happy.”

Gretchen had the nerve to look sheepish.

“He amended the menu right away.”

I scoffed. The stranger who wanted my virginity and my inheritance was willing to play nicer than my own flesh and blood. Gretchen gave new meaning to the phrase: it be your own people.

A few moments later, a steaming platter of escovitch fish landed on the table. The red snapper was covered in a colorful array of peppers and onions. Seconds later, the fish was joined by a platter of bammy and a bowl of rice and peas. I gave the chef my first real smile of the night.

After dinner ended, Mr. Gillespie’s family—his two sisters, his mother, his two daughters, and a couple of his nieces—introduced a spirited game of Pictionary.

Faylise, Lianna, and I opted out, as did Gretchen.

They weren’t into the game very long before I noticed that their vivaciousness was waning, and they couldn’t seem to stop yawning.

“What’s going on with them?” Faylise asked me as we watched one of the nieces. She was supposed to be guessing whatever her aunt was acting out, but she was fast asleep.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“Melissa has the right idea,” one of the aunts commented. “I can barely keep my eyes open. I’m going to call it a night.”

Several of the Gillespies agreed with her and began to gather their belongings.

Faylise checked her watch. “Wow, it’s barely 10:00 p.m.”

Lianna shrugged. “Maybe they’ve had a long week. I heard they’ve been working to put together the wedding since the bride refused to help.”

She was right. I had refused to help put together a wedding that was killing me. If my fiancé was determined to steal my life, he was going to do so with no help from me.

The chef stepped into the room, her face still alight with a smile. “I’m gonna go now. I’ll contact Mr. Gillespie for the remaining balance of payment.”

“Wait a minute,” Gretchen said, and it seemed as if she were speaking in slow motion. “Who are you? Where did you come from?”

“What do you mean?” The chef asked like she was speaking to someone with a learning disability.

“Who the hell are you?” Gretchen drawled. “I know all about biological warfare. Did you poison us?”

I stiffened in my seat. Had the chef drugged the food? If so, how come I didn’t feel sleepy? Lianna and Faylise weren’t yawning or acting sleepy either. That was when it dawned on me that the three of us only ate the pescatarian food.

“Why is everybody so tired?” Gretchen continued. “Did you drug us?”

“Why would I do such a thing? Why would I drug you? I’m a professional. My resume is impeccable. I won’t stand here and be insulted.” As she turned to walk away, the chef shot me another wink.

Did anybody else see that? Did Gretchen see? I shot a quick glance at Lianna. She gave me the smallest of grins. What was going on?

Gretchen tried to point her finger at the chef, but she seemed to have a hard time lifting her arm. “I know you—”

She was cut off by a loud commotion at the front door.

My heart stuttered in my chest with fear until several people walked into the great room.

I recognized Lianna’s sister, Lynne, and her husband, Chad Hill, right away.

I didn’t recognize the three younger men who came behind them with their guns drawn, though.

Gretchen tried to point again as she slurred, “What the hell are you doing here, Lynne? What? You think you can swoop in and save the day? Well, you—”

The young man who seemed to be the cockiest of the bunch addressed her, “Shut yo’ ass up before we handle you like we handled them niggas outside.”

At that, Gretchen’s low eyes went as wide as they could. The only man not holding a gun met the chef as she headed toward the door. He exchanged a few words and a smile with her before slipping what looked like a wad of cash into her hand.

The man was gorgeous. Actually, all three of the younger men were good-looking, but there was something about that particular one. It also could’ve been the suit. He was dressed immaculately in a beige pinstriped suit. Or it could’ve been his obvious confidence.

I took my attention off the man in the suit, and my eyes caught Lianna and Lynne engaged in an embrace.

Gretchen was still running her mouth as she fought against the effects of whatever drug the chef had mixed into the food.

Though her words were becoming more and more slurred, she kept talking.

She kept threatening to contact Sterling, but with the cocky one holding her at gunpoint, I didn’t know how she thought she could make that happen.

Apparently, the cocky one got tired of listening to her. “I told yo’ ass to shut up,” he reminded her, before cracking her over the head with the butt of his gun.

She went down like a rock. I would’ve felt so sorry for her, but after the way she’d done me, I had less than no compassion.

“Check the house,” Chad told the two armed men. Then he gestured at Faylise. “Who is this?”

“Faylise,” she said.

At the same time, I said, “My best friend.”

He nodded. “You trust her?”

It was my turn to nod. “Yeah.” I sighed. “I trust her.”

He turned back to Faylise. “I’m sure you just came to celebrate your friend before her wedding. Unfortunately for you, you’ve gotten yourself caught up in some shit.”

“Are you gonna kill me?”

“Nah, but the politician might if he thinks you’re involved. We’re gonna have to leave you here—”

“Please don’t leave me here!”

“It’s better for you. Trust us,” the gorgeous one spoke up. “You staying here will show them that you weren’t part of this setup. But if you’re determined to leave, you can go home once we leave. Give us an hour or so, then call the police and tell them that the bride was kidnapped.”

“But the security cameras,” Faylise cried. “Gretchen has security cameras.”

“They’ve all been scrambled, darling,” Chad assured her.

“Do you have everything you need?” Lynne asked me.

“One second.” I ran into the bedroom Gretchen had essentially been holding me hostage in.

I grabbed the small duffle bag with my belongings.

I looked at the wedding gown that she and his mom had chosen for me to wear.

It hung on the door of the bedroom. I spat on it before returning to the great room. “I’m ready.”

I had no idea what was in store for me. All I knew was that Lianna and Moses had called in help from America. Whether whatever plan they’d hatched worked or not, at least somebody was giving me a chance. Somebody was trying to help me. My prayers had been answered.

I hugged Faylise as she cried on my shoulder. I didn’t cry with her, mainly because I was all cried out. To be honest, I was probably in a bit of shock.

“I love you,” I told her.

“This is good. Even though you never confirmed it, I knew your aunt was holding something over you and forcing you to marry this man. I’m so glad you don’t have to go through with it. I’ll miss you like crazy, but I’m so happy for you. Take care of you.”

“You, too. Please be safe.”

“I will.”

The second we broke the embrace, the cocky one walked behind her and cracked Faylise on the head with the butt of his gun. He caught her as she went down and placed her gingerly on the sofa.

I rounded on him. “Why would you do that?” I cried loudly in disbelief. “Why would you do that?”

Next thing I knew, I was thrown over a shoulder and carried out of the house.

We were put in and taken out of two different black trucks with blacked-out windows before the SUV carrying Lynne, Lianna, and me pulled into a long driveway.

Between the switching of vehicles, we’d driven for well over an hour, and I figured that, at this point, we had to be on the other side of Iredia.

No sooner than the three of us were whisked from the truck by four armed gunmen did I hear car doors slamming behind us.

Soon, Chad and the three younger men joined us in the foyer of an oceanfront estate.

We were all ushered into a dining room by a uniformed butler.

The table was huge, and almost every inch was covered in food.

I noticed the food, but what really caught my attention was the fact that my Uncle Moses was already seated.

Lianna hurried over to him. He stood and embraced her in a tight hug. A man I didn’t recognize exchanged handshakes with Chad and the three younger men.

When he got to me, he offered a sympathetic smile. “It will all make sense soon, young one,” he told me.

I nodded because his words seemed sincere.

“Everyone, come have a seat at the table.” He leaned down a bit and whispered close to my ear. “Eat. Relax. You’re safe here.”

Chad took the seat at the head of the table, opposite from the man who had just spoken to me. Lynne took the seat on his left. The handsome man in the suit took the seat on his right. The rest of us fell in where we could. Somehow, I ended up seated across from the suited Adonis.

Chad turned to me. “It’s no secret that we have to get you off this island ASAP, Tinsley. As it is, Sterling may already be aware that you’re missing. He may have already started tearing up the island, looking for you.”

While the thought of leaving my home caused a pit to immediately start forming in my stomach, I knew there was no way to avoid it.

If Mr. Gillespie could get to me, he was going to make me go through with the wedding.

“I’m willing to leave,” I admitted, casting my gaze on my uncle, “but I can’t leave without my inheritance.

I need that money to start over. What am I supposed to do? ”

The suited Adonis gave me a boyish grin. “We haven’t been formally introduced. They call me Double. I’m your future husband.”

He said it with authority, like the details had already been worked out.

That pissed me off. “What is he talking about?” I asked Moses.

“You have them kidnap me from Gretchen’s house, where she was trying to marry me off, .

. . to marry me off? Excuse my language, but what the entire fuck?

” I shook my head in disbelief. “You’re no better than your sister. ”