Chapter Fourteen
Hannah smiled at the camera and moved to the instructions of the photographer, hoping she was pulling off looking relaxed and carefree.
She was happier than she’d ever been before in her life; Darryn loved her, he wanted her, and the sparks flying around them whenever they came near one another were just about scorching.
But. And because of that but, she had to make peace with the fact that people would be following her.
Apparently, Dale had lost today’s bet, because he and a security guard dressed in civilian clothes had been following her around since she left her apartment late this morning.
And although her brother-in-law was looking quite cheerful, she felt dreadful.
They all had work to do; they had families of their own.
It was ridiculous to have to traipse after their wives’ sister because of some deranged idiot.
At this point she was so irritated, so mad about the whole thing, she wished Stephen White would show his face because she was ready for a fight.
Against Darryn’s wishes, she’d put the battery back in her old phone, switched it on, and, although she was using her new phone, she kept the old one with her.
If Stephen had been tracking her movements through her phone, she wanted him to find her.
Darryn would probably be angry, but she was fed up with this cat-and-mouse game Stephen was playing.
She mentioned it to Dale, and needless to say, he was also not very happy with what she’d done.
“Smile, sweetheart.” The photographer coached her, and she realized she was scowling.
Trying to shut out everything around her, she moved and stretched and smiled until finally the photographer was happy.
The photographer walked over to her, smiling. “Thanks. It was a pleasure working with a professional like you,” he said.
“I’m a bit distracted—sorry about the frown.”
“Even frowning, you’re gorgeous. Surely you know that?” He flirted, and she laughed.
This kind of light flirtation she could handle; most of the photographers did this with every model. Stephen White’s creepy kind of flirting though, she couldn’t stomach.
Smiling, she turned to go to the dressing room and that was when she felt it—the hairs on the back of her neck rising. He was here. Stephen White was somewhere close by. She continued walking and willed herself not to look around her.
She caught Dale’s eye and with a quick motion of her head tried to warn him, but the frown on his forehead indicated he didn’t understand what she was trying to say. He started forward, but a commotion behind her stopped everyone in their tracks, and all heads turned in that direction.
“Something is burning!” someone shouted. “Look, flames!”
Stephen White had a hand in this. She knew it.
Hannah glanced over her shoulder while she lengthened her strides.
People were panicking, trying to get outside.
She couldn’t see Dale or the security guard through the smoke.
She wanted to get to her phone as quickly as possible.
At this point she could mostly see only smoke, but small flames were visible here and there against the opposite walls of the building.
Around her, people were shouting and running toward the front door.
Hannah rushed forward, but a strong hand grabbed her shoulder and something poked her in her back.
“If you hadn’t flirted with the photographer, I wouldn’t have had to start a fire.” A voice hissed in her ear.
A chill went down her spine. Stephen White.
“Now put your hair up under this hoodie, walk toward the door, and don’t try and draw anyone’s attention, especially not the attention of Cavallo and what I assume is a security guard.
” He snickered. “Don’t you know by now nobody can keep me away from you? Now walk, I have a gun at your back.”
Hannah did as she was told. A strange calmness settled over her.
This was going to end today, one way or another.
This man was not going to hurt anyone else, not if she could help it.
There was no way she was getting into a car with him and she had a plan, but for it to work, she didn’t want anyone else too close to them, so leaving the building was a good idea.
*
Darryn phoned Dale when he reached Sea Point, about a block away from the building. He’d made the journey in record time. Fortunately, it wasn’t peak time for the traffic yet and he could drive relatively fast. But he had to know whether Hannah was still okay.
Dale’s phone only rang and rang and, swearing, Darryn dialed the number again. This time his brother answered.
Before Dale answered, sounds of people running and shouting interrupted. An icy-cold hand closed around his heart.
“What happened?” he barked.
“Hannah…she’s gone,” Dale said. “I think White took her. I’ve phoned Don, and he’ll contact the police. Someone started a fire. It’s small and they have been able to contain it, but—”
“I’m close,” Darryn shouted before Dale had finished talking.
He threw down his phone and stepped on the gas.
The roaring in his ears made it impossible to think, to talk.
His instincts kicked in, and the only thought in his mind was getting to Hannah.
He had to protect her. Life without her wasn’t worth living.
It was that simple. And if Stephen White did something to her, hurt her in any way, he would pay.
As he neared the building, he saw smoke billowing out of the windows on one side. The sound of sirens rang out. Good. Fire engines were heading toward them. People hurried outside through the big front doors.
With screeching brakes, he stopped his car and jumped out while he scanned the faces of the people passing him. He would recognize Hannah’s hair anywhere.
Frantically, he moved forward. He couldn’t see her. Think, Cavallo, think! What would that bastard do? He would try to get her outside as soon as possible.
As he turned around, Dale and the security guard came running out. Damn it, White probably knew that Hannah had people watching over her.
“Do you see her anywhere?” Dale asked.
“How long since the shoot?” Darryn asked, ignoring Dale’s stupid question. If he’d seen her, he wouldn’t be standing there, damn it!
“It probably only five minutes ago, although so much else has happened since.”
“Then they must still be close by,” Darryn said while he scanned the crowd. He noticed the parking area behind the building and pointed toward it.
“Let’s have a look over there,” he said. “He probably parked his car where he would be able to take off quickly—let’s check the area.” He began jogging, ignoring the headache behind his eyes.
*
Stephen pushed the gun against her back. “The black van over there.” He shoved her forward.
Hannah gnashed her teeth. Her high heels weren’t meant to be worn during long walks and definitely not when she was being pushed around, but she didn’t want to take them off just yet. They were going to come in handy quite soon.
She was mad as hell. This idiot had messed up her budding relationship with Darryn two years ago, he’d hurt her, he had hurt her sister, and had hurt Darryn. Her mind raced. She didn’t have much time left, and if she wanted to get away, she had to do it very soon.
“So where are all the Cavallos now?” His laugh was high, near hysterical. Stephen yanked her against his body with his one arm. “You’re all alone. Not even Darryn Cavallo is in sight!”
The guy probably hadn’t had a shower in days, and he also had too much to drink; the stench wafting from him was overwhelming. She swallowed against the nausea that rose in her throat, but she kept still.
“No, it’s only you and me, Stephen. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?” she said sweetly.
His arm stilled around her body. “That’s right,” he said. “You and me, I like the sound of that.” And again his high-pitched laughter followed.
They reached the car. She would have one chance. That was it.
Stephen’s one arm dropped from her body as he fiddled in his pocket, probably looking for his car keys.
“I—”
“Stand still!” he ordered, yanking her back again. He unlocked the passenger door of the car.
“I only want to take my shoes off, they’re hurting me. Surely you won’t mind that?” Hannah asked meekly and moved so she leaned against the car.
Stephen came closer, still wielding the gun.
She bent forward and took off one shoe. “Put away the gun. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere,” she said, not looking at him.
Slowly, she bent down to take off the other shoe while looking at Stephen from the corner of her eye. He played with the gun for a few seconds, but then put it in his pocket.
“Just don’t try anything,” he said and turned slightly to scan the area.
This would be her only chance. Hannah grabbed her shoe and clutched it tightly in both her hands. Stephen moved his feet so his back was turned in her direction. This was it. With all the built-up anger inside of her, she brought down the sharp heel, aiming it straight at the back of his head.
*
Darryn jogged around the building and froze.
About few feet in front of him was White and a woman. It took his stunned brain a few seconds to realize it was Hannah. She was wearing a hoodie and was still dressed in a short, tight dress she had probably been wearing for the shoot.
But what turned his blood to ice was what she was doing. Her gaze was on White’s back, and she was clutching something in her hands. As he watched, she lifted her arms. She wanted to clobber him with it!
“Is that Hannah?” Dale’s incredulous voice came from behind him.
His feet were moving before he knew what he was doing. He had to get to Hannah, had to help her. He raced forward, bellowing her name. White turned around to face him at the same moment Hannah’s arms moved and she brought whatever she was holding down on White’s head.
For a split second, White stared at him, a stupefied expression on his face before he swore and grabbed his head. He staggered away.
Stunned, Darryn stared at Hannah. Her eyes were bright, her chin held high. She was gloriously, magnificently, beautifully angry.
“What a woman,” he murmured, gave one more stride, and then Hannah was in his arms.
“Hannah.” He breathed, holding her shaking body tightly against him and losing his heart, his body, his soul, his very being all over again.
Behind him, his two other brothers, who had apparently also just arrived, were talking excitedly. To his right, policemen were grabbing White, but Darryn didn’t turn around, didn’t move an inch.
He had his whole world in his arms, and he didn’t know whether he would ever be able to let her go.