Page 48 of The Worst Best Man

When Aiden made a move to follow, she shook her head. “Uh-uh, buddy. You’re persona non-grata. You stay here with your pal. We’ve got a wedding to get to.”

“You should probably do what she says,” Chip suggested to Aiden. “She’s terrifying when she’s mad.”

“I can see that,” Aiden said, looking more amused than terrified.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” Frankie growled. “I’ll make sure you regret this. Let’s go, Chip.”

“Hey, do you want a ride, Aiden?” Chip offered.

Frankie slapped him on the arm. “No, he doesn’t want a ride. Kidnappers don’t get rides from their victims.”

“Awh, Frankie, he didn’t really kidnap me.”

“Then he conspired to kidnap you.”

“No, I didn’t!”

“No, he didn’t!”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Frankie said, finally understanding just exactly how mad a parent had to be to use those words.

She pushed Chip out into the hallway. “Stay,” she said, pointing at Aiden who was helping his brother to his feet. “If either of you try to follow us, I’ll kill you.”

“I think the crazy maid means it,” Elliot stage whispered, still clutching his nose and looking terrified. “Lo siento, lady. Lo siento.”

“Seriously? We’re in Barbados, you idiot!”

She pulled the door shut and then pushed Chip toward the stairs. “Go! Go! Go!”

They sprinted to the basement and burst through the double doors. Footsteps sounded a floor or two above them. Flor in Frankie’s sundress was stocking a cart with mini shampoos.

“Can you lock that door?” Frankie asked, as she worked her zipper down her back.

Bianca raced to the stairwell door and locked it. “Someone’s running,” she reported, stepping away from the window.

“Thank you so much for everything,” Frankie said, shoving her way out of the dress. “Sorry about the blood. Those closet safes are sharp.”

Something, a good-sized body from the sounds of it, hit the doors at a run.

Frankie winced. She’d have nightmares forever of being chased down the stairs.

Flor stripped down quickly and handed the dress back to Frankie. “I hope you showed that asshole in 314 who’s boss.”

“I’ll apologize for the blood up there too,” Frankie said grimly.

Flor gave her a curt nod and clapped her on the shoulder. “Good luck, my friend.”

“May the force be with you,” Frankie offered. She was no good at pep talks or thank yous. “Let’s go Chip.”

They tiptoed out a side door and then half ran, half crawled, into the vegetation. The open scratches on her shins sang as she packed more dirt into the wounds. Her head throbbed and her hair was being picked apart by branches. But she had the groom.

“Ouch!”

Frankie looked back. Chip was holding a hand over his eye. “Are you okay?” she hissed.

“I got a branch in my eye.”

“Just look with your good eye. We’re almost to the wall.”