27. Laundry Tips
laundry tips
. . .
Sadie
Sadie’s Guide to Hostage-Taking Being Taken Hostage Forming a Partnership with Your Hostage Embracing the Hostage Lifestyle, Tip #15: In the event you’re a voluntary hostage at your ex-hostage’s mafia fortress, I recommend taking time to explore the layout and befriend the staff. Who knows when it might come in handy?
I was in deeper trouble than I’d thought.
Sharing a couple kisses in an ice cream parlor?
Those could be excused as celebration of a successful rescue mission.
Grinding on my hostage’s lap in the backseat of an SUV?
Still easily written off as temporary insanity.
Getting hot and heavy on the highly visible patio of his backyard where any passerby or foreign satellite could see us?
There was only one possible explanation: I’d been possessed by a horny, mafia prince-obsessed demon who wouldn’t rest until they got what they wanted.
And they wanted Davian.
… I wanted Davian.
Which had led to me putting on a show in the backyard, and all because my hostage-turned-partner-turned-avenger-slash-jailor made me lose all rational thought.
A quick dip in the pool did little to cool off the spark Davian had ignited. Even an hour later, I still couldn’t get him and his talented fingers off my mind when I slipped into the pink cupcake-patterned bra and underwear he’d picked up for me. With how we’d left things, I was afraid I’d jump him as soon as he got back from dealing with his rat problem.
Not that jumping him would be a bad thing. I’d told the truth about not wanting to deny the attraction.
The problem was I needed to stop trying to jump him in public .
Besides, I had bigger problems to focus on than hostage-humping. The bag of clothes Shane had thrown together from my apartment was… Well, it was puzzling, to put it nicely. It also explained why most of the men here only wore black—they had no fashion sense whatsoever.
I wasn’t sure why he thought I’d need a raincoat when the forecast was sunny skies all week. And snow boots? Maybe he knew something I didn’t.
Only two things Shane had packed for me matched into an actual outfit appropriate for hot weather, and I slipped into the pink skirt and white sleeveless top.
“How do I look?” I asked Bear, twirling so he could get the full picture. He stared back at me before standing and revealing the black loafer he’d been lying on.
Davian’s loafer.
When I scowled, he dipped his head and nudged the shoe closer to me. Slobber dripped down the heel. “Bear! You need to stop taking Davian’s shoes. This isn’t okay.”
Snatching up the shoe and giving Bear a very stern “ No! ”, I tucked it behind a fake plant in the corner of Davian’s room. I wanted a chance to explain before he saw it.
“That was the last time, okay?” I frowned at Bear. “No more shoes. None. But if you behave, I’ll pick up some toys for you later.”
He looked back at me with those big, sad puppy dog eyes that melted my heart.
“Don’t you dare try to get out of this by playing on my emotions,” I warned him, purposefully turning away so I couldn’t be swayed.
Now, what else was left to get ready before spending a day at the headquarters of a mafia operation?
I’d already put Walter—my sad-looking plant whose droopy leaves had stopped being green a long time ago—next to the window so he’d get some sunlight. My phone was dead, so I plugged it in to charge. Bear had taken his medicine like a champ, and he wouldn’t need another dose until tomorrow.
After folding the rest of my clothes, I wiped my palms on my skirt with a satisfied nod. I was as prepared as I could be.
But Bear was still pouting.
“What if I made a specially baked treat just for you?” I asked, wanting to cheer him up. “Would you stop mauling Davian’s footwear then?”
Bear’s head cocked at the word treat .
I clapped my hands. “Treat it is. Let’s go find the kitchen! Come on, boy.”
I was doubly pleased with the idea since I also wanted to bake cupcakes to thank Davian and his men for helping rescue Bear. Davian had said to do what I wanted today, and hopefully that meant I could use his kitchen.
“We’ll need to check what baking equipment and ingredients he has,” I told Bear as we ventured down the main staircase. “Keep your paws crossed, because I really don’t want to ask Vince for a ride to the store.”
Especially since the last time I’d seen the grumpy guard, I’d been topless and straddling his boss while said boss’s fingers were inside me.
Part of me was still peeved at Vince for not waiting just one more minute before interrupting us.
But mostly, I was embarrassed.
We reached the bottom of the giant staircase right as a door opened across the foyer and two guys emerged from a dark stairwell.
When my feet touched the foyer floor and Bear hopped down beside me, all four of us froze. The men straightened and quickly shut the door behind them.
My eyes narrowed.
That wasn’t fishy at all.
Like Davian, both of them were dark-haired, well-built, wearing dark suits, and gave nothing away with their expressions.
It was kind of spooky.
But unlike the hostage who’d wormed his way into my thoughts, these men had blatant wine stains down the fronts of their dress shirts.
It didn’t shock me that Davian’s men were day drinkers, but they didn’t need to be slobs about it.
“You should really get those under cold water before the wine sets,” I said, trying to be helpful. I had my fair share of experience with stains from culinary school and the shelter.
The men only stared back at me blankly, and I adjusted my grip on the banister.
“Your shirts,” I clarified, gesturing at the blotches of dark red. “Wine stains aren’t fun to… They aren’t fun to…”
I glanced at the stains again—belatedly realizing they looked more like splatters than spills—and my throat tightened.
“Oh. Oh .” My stomach churned, and I rested a hand over it as my voice came out strangled. “That’s not wine, is it?”
They exchanged a wordless glance but didn’t answer, and I cleared my throat—fighting to keep my face straight. From the way one of them flinched, I hadn’t succeeded.
I tried again. “Um, hypothetically, if the stuff on your clothes is what I think it is—and I’m not saying it is—then you’ll want to run it under cold water as soon as you can. Vinegar will help get it out. Blot, though—don’t scrub.”
The guys shared another look, then the one who’d flinched glanced down at his shirt and shrugged. “We usually just throw out anything that gets blood on it. It’s easier.”
The other one jabbed an elbow into his friend’s side and sent me a smile that looked more like a grimace. “But thanks for the tip.”
The grimacing one tugged on his friend’s arm, and they rushed off like they couldn’t get away fast enough.
As soon as they disappeared, I loosened my grip on the banister and let out a shaky breath.
“What a waste of perfectly fine clothes,” I muttered to Bear, shaking my head. But we had other things to worry about. Mysterious bloodstains weren’t on my agenda today, so I put my hands on my hips and studied the many doors around the room. Davian’s foyer alone was bigger than my whole apartment. “Any chance you remember the way to the kitchen, boy?”
Bear only stared up at me with his tongue out, panting and happily waiting for me to do something.
With a sigh, I walked to the nearest door. “Okay, let’s see what’s behind door number one.”
Door number one led to a giant office with rows of bookshelves along one wall, a large desk, and a long table dominating the center that could seat at least twenty people.
The room was dark and ominous and sent a chill down my spine.
Definitely not a kitchen.
Carefully backing into the foyer and closing the door as quietly as possible, I let out a breath and moved to the next door.
Door number two led to another dark room with couches and a pool table. Another bust.
We skipped the door those men had come out of—I was pretty sure it went down to a basement I had no desire to explore—and wandered through the only open doorway.
It led to a living room area with a handful of corridors sprouting from it.
After eleven more doors, four corridors, and a few more run-ins with stoic men who didn’t return my greetings but had no problem stealing perturbed glances at me and Bear, we found a swinging door that opened into the most gorgeous kitchen I’d ever laid eyes on.
It belonged in a magazine .
Natural light filled the room. The vast counter space was a baker’s dream, and there weren’t just one, but two industrial ovens!
I salivated at the sight.
Two giant islands with granite countertops played a starring role in the middle of the space—one with a large sink. An older man stood at the second one, dicing a few dozen onions from a bucket, and he looked up as soon as we cleared the doorway.
A scowl twisted below the man’s bushy grey mustache, and he pointed his very large chef’s knife straight at us. “ Dai! No animals in the kitchen! Out!”
I jumped at the bark in his tone and grabbed Bear’s collar.
“Sorry, sorry!” I stumbled backward and pulled Bear with me through the swinging door.
Back in the hallway, I barely stopped myself from slamming straight into the last person I wanted to see after what happened out on the patio.
“Vince!” I caught myself and held tighter to Bear’s collar, trying to ignore the way my cheeks burned.
If his scowl was anything to go by, he wasn’t thrilled to see me either. “What do you want?”
Boy, he really had the death-glare thing down pat. I could imagine those teenage thugs shaking in their fancy sneakers if Vince looked at them like this.
My legs might’ve trembled a bit.
“Bear’s not allowed in the kitchen,” I forced myself to say, shifting my weight under his glare. “Is it okay if he wanders the house freely for a little? Or maybe he can hang out with you?”
Vince glanced down at Bear, and his lip curled up in a sneer. “No. I don’t like dogs.”
I blinked. Well, at least he was honest. “Oh. Okay, sorry. I’ll just put him in the backyard, if that’s all right?”
Vince was too busy glaring to answer. So, I turned and pulled Bear down the hallway. I might’ve picked up my pace into an awkward half jog, half trot because the sooner we got away from Vince, the sooner I could stop thinking about how he’d seen me naked.
“Wait.” Vince walked up beside us, easily keeping pace as his eyes narrowed. “Why were you in the kitchen?”
I faltered a step, not understanding his suspicion. Was I not allowed to eat food now?
“I want to bake some dog treats for Bear and the shelter,” I said, deciding not to share my plan to make cupcakes for everyone. I couldn’t trust him not to tattle to Davian and ruin the surprise. “Davian said to make myself at home.”
Vince’s frown deepened. “Antonio doesn’t like animals in the kitchen.”
“I just learned that,” I said with a wince. “But it’s okay if I put Bear outside, right?”
If possible, his judging eyes narrowed further. “By himself?”
“Well, yes. He’ll have fun chasing squirrels.”
Vince was a big guy—like football player big, and not one of the skinny ones who ran fast—and he loomed over both of us. That was why I had to choke down a laugh when he looked down at Bear like he was sizing him up.
But then he seemed to come to a decision, because he nodded.
“Fine. I’ll take your dog outside and watch him,” he declared, as if he were granting me a boon.
While I wasn’t one to complain, he’d sure changed his tune quickly. “Really? I thought you didn’t like?—”
“Follow me, dog,” Vince ordered, walking off in the opposite direction without waiting for Bear—who panted happily and looked up at me.
I shrugged.
“Go play with the scary man, Bear.” I gave him a good scratch behind his ear before patting his rump. He took off down the hall. “Thank you, Vince! Have fun, boys.”
I reached the kitchen door before Vince’s startled yelp made me pause.
“Don’t lick me!”
I stifled a laugh with my palm and ducked back into the kitchen. At least it sounded like Bear was warming up to Vince.
Now, if only I could get him to stop stealing Davian’s shoes.