Chapter 10
We buy iced coffees and walk together down the river path.
This part is paved with brick and well maintained, with quaint little white benches and lots of flowers.
There’s plenty of room for picnics, sunbathing or just taking a stroll like we’re doing.
In other stretches of the city you can barely access the water, and if you do, you’re likely to end up stabbed with a dirty needle or stumbling over a homeless person’s tent.
There’s never money for everything, especially in the more industrial areas.
“Soooooo…” Erika draws the word out as she walks by my side. “That was one of the guys from the club, right?”
A small group of kayakers glide by, and on the other side of the river a bunch of college guys are hanging out with their shirts off. It’s hard to take them seriously after Sinner’s display.
“Maybe.” I swish my paper straw around in the bottom of the cup to blend in the brown sugar syrup.
“Come on, give me something. That’s an actual, honest to goodness motorcycle club guy. Man. Member. Whatever. And you definitely weren’t getting dropped off on the back of a motorcycle during filming. Is this something new? Does your mom know?”
Across the river, there’s a glint off something that might be a camera lens. “Camera over to the left. The balcony.” I laugh like she just said something hilarious.
Erika grins and puts her hand on my arm.
“This is so stupid,” she says under her breath.
“Nothing personal. Hanging out with you is fine. I meant what I said the other night about being friends. If we get more seasons it would be nice to get to know each other better, you know? You didn’t really hang out with us much off set. ”
“And you’re not just saying that because of Sinner, right?”
She hops ahead of me, spinning around and walking backwards. “Sinner? Are you freaking kidding me?” She fans herself with her hand. “So hot. We should hire them as consultants for next season. Toby could use a few tips.”
“I don’t know if—” My phone vibrates. I swap my drink to the other hand and pull it out of my jacket.
Unlisted number. I reject the call.
Erika has fallen back to my side. “Friends tell friends about their biker boyfriends.”
“I wish I had more to say. One of the other guys, not Sinner, was my brother’s best friend when I was little.
We hadn’t seen each other for like ten years before he tracked me down at the club.
” I hook my arm through hers and we turn away from the path along the water, veering into a park that loops back towards where we started.
“I’m really glad they were there, but it was really scary when I saw you with them and it looked like you were getting wobbly. If you’d been just a little more out of it, I was ready to cause a scene.”
My phone vibrates again. “Sorry.” It’s a text, with a picture of me and Erika from a couple minutes ago. I show her the screen. “I hope the rest of the pictures are better quality. This looks like it’s just from someone’s phone.”
“Hmmm, yeah. I wonder why they’re just messaging you and not me.”
“Dunno.” In the distance, Sinner is stretched out on the grass with his arm under his head. Several groups of women are standing suspiciously close, glancing his way. It makes me want to go over and kiss him again.
Erika notices. “So you and Sinner?”
I start to shake my head, then stop a little uncertainly. I mean, no, but… I don’t even know. “It’s a fun idea, but there’s so much going on right now. It’s not a good time to start something, and he’s…”
“Hot as fuck.” Her tone is dry, but doesn’t feel judgmental. I think I’m going to like having her as a friend.
“I mean yeah, but he’s a biker biker. Right now I could just say it’s promo for the show, but if anyone pays even a little attention they’ll notice he’s the real thing.” I throw him another glance. “But enough about me. How’s Toby?”
“He’s good. It’s fine. We’re just friends.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” My stupid phone starts buzzing again. “Oh come on!”
Cooperate and nobody gets hurt.
Wait. What? “Erika, I think something’s wrong. Like really wrong.” I look around, but everything seems normal.
“What do you mean?”
Before I have time to call for help, a black van veers right up onto the lawn, sending people scattering. There are a few screams before it comes to a stop and the doors fly open. We both jump back instinctively. Two men in dark clothes with their faces covered jump out, coming right for us.
“Get her!” one of them yells.
I push Erika out of the way. “Run!”
Without thinking, I throw myself into their way so she has more time to get away.
She’s the famous one, so they’re coming for her, right?
One of them grabs me by the arm and slaps a piece of tape over my mouth.
My nostrils flare as I try to draw breath.
I don’t even get a chance to try to free myself before he tosses a sack over my head and pulls it tight around my neck with a cord.
He’s strong. I struggle for all I’m worth, but once he yanks me off balance it’s easy for him to drag me towards the van while I’m just doing my best to drag my feet and buy time.
I scream from behind the tape until I run out of air, kicking, squirming and trying to get loose.
My heel connects with his shin. He doesn’t drop me, but he swears and his grip slips.
It gives me just a little bit of time to push away.
I almost fall, but stumble myself into a run.
I frantically dig at the cord around my neck, hoping I’m headed towards help and not straight to the van or into the river.
Erika screams, and I hear an angry male grunt. I hope she’s giving them hell, but I’d rather she get away.
“Fucking bitch!” There’s a scream and a splash off to my left.
I dash the other way, but an arm slams into my chest, nearly knocking the air out of my lungs. My knees slam into the paving bricks, sending sparks of pain radiating up my thighs. I only just catch myself on my hands, determined to not let them get me into the van.
“Hey, let her go!” a guy shouts. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Mind your own fucking business! Get her in the back.”
I’m yanked off the ground, carried bodily and thrown. The metallic clunk of my landing echoes around me. The van. I’m inside it. Why is this even happening? I’m just a temporarily interesting nobody.
The door creaks as it slides shut and the van rocks like it was just put into gear. Then we start rolling. “Help!” I scream but it just comes out as a muffled moan.
The van veers suddenly, throwing me sideways into the wall. Someone swears loudly.
A loud crack—a gunshot?—cuts through the air, close enough that I feel it through my whole body, and there’s a dull thump next to me. One of the attackers? An innocent person trying to help? I need to see!
Just as the van starts moving again, a hand wraps around my ankle. I kick, but with a feral snarl, someone hauls me violently out of the back. Arms wrap around me like a protective cage as we hit the ground and roll. My screams are silenced by the tape.
As soon as we stop, my back on the grass, the sack is ripped off and I find myself looking up at a still shirtless Sinner, but this isn’t the version he’s shown me until now. There’s not a hint of flirtiness in his furious face, and his eyes are so icy cold I’m surprised I don’t see my own breath.
“Stay the fuck down,” he growls.
One of the masked men jumps out of the back after us. I try to yell a warning but it just comes out as muffled grunting.
The guy manages to grab Sinner from behind, getting an arm around his neck. Sinner slams his elbow into the guy’s face, breaking it with a wet crunch that makes me wince.
There’s no time to be precious about it. I grab the edge of the tape over my mouth and pull. The tearing pain is enough to make my eyes water, but at least I can use my mouth again. I draw a deep breath, finally able to breathe freely again.
The kidnapper is still, against all odds, clinging to Sinner’s back.
“Let him go!” I kick the would-be kidnapper in the side, but maybe I shouldn’t have bothered. For all my practice with play fighting for the show, I’m not Desdemona. We were trained in how to make a fight look authentic, not actually hurt someone.
Bystanders are finally starting to wake up.
A man throws himself into the fight, which seems to be enough for the masked attacker to finally decide the odds are too far out of his favor and scramble into the waiting vehicle.
Several people try to block the way, but the driver doesn’t seem to care, and they’re forced to the side as the van takes off, side door still partly open with a boot hanging out.
There’s a commotion by the river.
“Erika!” I rush to the edge of the water.
It’s about a three foot drop and she’s struggling to get hold of something so she can stay close to the side where the current isn’t as strong.
A woman runs over with a lifesaver and a coil of rope from a nearby emergency rescue point.
Between the two of us we get her back up onto dry land.
Erika is shaken and soaking wet, but safe.
“Are you okay?”
She blinks, taking a moment to take stock, before she nods. “Yeah. You?”
“I think so.” I look around for Sinner.
He’s on his feet, scanning the area. He looks like he’s out of an action movie, and the crowd can’t quite seem to decide if he’s a hero or one of the bad guys. His clear blue gaze finally lands on me, freezing me in place. The tension in his stance eases a little. He comes stomping my way.
“Come on. We’re going.”
I grab Erika’s hand. “I should probably stay until—”
“No.” He cuts me off, his voice hard. “You were the target. We need to get the fuck out of here in case they had a backup plan.”
“Go,” Erika urges. “I have my car. I’ll get to my Dad’s and call the cops from there. I don’t know what the hell just happened, but he might be right.”
“Okay.”
The three of us run to the parking area. Erika splits off to her car, and Sinner drags me to his bike, quickly pulling on his shirt and vest.
“We’re going to the club. It’s the only place I trust to keep you safe until we figure out what the fuck just happened.”
The past few minutes are finally catching up to me. “Did you shoot someone?”
“They had you in a fucking van, Quinn. I’m just sorry I didn’t tag all of them.” He doesn’t look the least bit sorry. “Now get your ass behind me and hold on, sweetheart. It’s gonna get bumpy.”