Chapter 15 Charlie
Charlie
Maybe I’ve hit my head on the island counter one too many times while baking, but I swear, I’m having fun getting to know my captor.
Which is absolutely insane. Who enjoys a kidnapping?
Yet here I am, sitting across from him, laughing like this is some twisted first date instead of a felony in progress.
And I swear he’s flirting with me. Or maybe I’m just projecting. Still, I really hope he is flirting because if he’s into me, maybe he’ll reconsider killing me.
“Y’all doing okay over here?” Dee Dee’s voice startles me from my thoughts. She smiles as she tips the pot of fresh coffee toward his half-empty cup.
Her silver-streaked waves sway as she leans in, catching the morning sun streaming through the blinds. The floral perfume she always wears wraps around me, familiar but a tad suffocating. Like did she spritz or douse in it this morning?
Looking into her blue eyes, I remember why I insisted on coming here.
I knew this was it. The moment I’ve been waiting for to escape.
All I need to do is subtly send her a signal, something inconspicuous.
But before I can open my mouth, her eyes flick from him to me, and her smile widens.
A mischievous grin spread across her face.
Oh shit. I know that face. She thinks we’re on a date.
“Well, hi there, sugarplum. Who’s your friend?”
Of course, the town matchmaker is more worried about hitching up us poor single souls than recognizing a kidnapping when she sees one.
Dee Dee’s famous for her matchmaking skills—rumor has it she can size up a couple in thirty seconds flat and declare them a perfect match.
People actually come from out of town to get her seal of approval before their weddings.
More than once, a teary-eyed fiancé has come running out of the diner after getting the bad news.
And to be fair, without the sack over my head, the bound wrists, or his mask, we look like the picture-perfect date. The kind you’d scroll past on Instagram with a heart emoji and a “couple goals” comment—minus the felony.
“Oh, this is…uh—” What was I supposed to say? This is my captor, name redacted because I still don’t know if he’s going to kill me or not.
“I’m Aiden,” he interjects, like we’re networking at some business mixer.
Aiden. The name suits him. I know it’s Celtic—something about fire and nature.
You read one dark romance book about a Celtic warlord and end up three hours deep into a name-meaning rabbit hole.
Apparently, “Aiden” means “little fire.” Which tracks, because we’re in that slow-burn trope, and he’s exuding that ruin me in the best way kind of energy.
“Nice to meet you!” Dee Dee beams. “Don’t let me interrupt. I know a first date when I see one.” She looks at me conspiratorially.
I nearly choke on my hot cocoa, sputtering against the whipped cream. You’re boyfriendless for three years, and suddenly every guy you are with is your date.
“Don’t be shy,” she says with a wink, her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. “I’ve got an eye for these things, and I haven’t seen you smile like that in a long time.”
My cheeks flame, the heat prickling my skin. I shake my head so fast I’m worried I might get whiplash. “It’s not like that.”
Aiden clears his throat, probably trying to get Dee Dee to leave so he can get on with this kidnapping.
I’m positive the previous girls he kidnapped weren’t this embarrassing.
A wave of possessiveness courses through me at the thought of him with other captives.
How illogical, considering they’re probably dead because of him.
But something about his eyes doesn’t scream I’m a killer!
“We’re not on a date.” His definitive tone leaves no room for argument.
Well, that’s a blow to the ego. Not that I expected us to be on a date. Just because he’s the first nice guy I’ve been around in years doesn’t make him my potential date.
“Mmhmm. Sure, you aren’t. I know a first date when I see one.” She scribbles something onto her pad, probably adding my name to her ever-growing mental matchmaking list.
“Don’t mess it up, handsome. Trust me, this girl’s a keeper.”
My fingers toy nervously with the rim of my cup.
“Well, that was Dee Dee. She’s the owner of this diner.
She and Pop have been running this place for as long as I can remember.
She’s a little bit much.” I chuckle, thinking back to all the times Claire and I sat in this diner talking about boys.
I wonder if I’ll be back here with her soon, talking about my captor.
The captor, who is turning out to be a sweet softie, versus his kidnapping intention.
Even though logic is telling me this is dangerous, something deep inside me is saying he’s safe, he’s steady, and I can trust him.