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Chapter Thirteen

Larken

It became clear on the first day that this wasn't going to be the same kind of abduction that I've seen in movies and in the news, but I have still been held here, locked in trunks, chests, tied to chairs and cuffed to bed frames. I have also been fed and shown that the food I ate was safe. I doubt Adrian told them that he had been poisoning my food, but the fact that they understood why I refused to eat was another obvious hint that this wasn't a typical abduction. They have repeatedly declared that they wouldn't be taking me to the hospital, but they aren't holding guns to my head to convince me to keep myself hydrated.

And I slept.

Natural sleep.

It doesn't matter that I was tied to a chair or stuck under a bed. I slept. I didn't sleep in the chest, but that's a different situation.

Both of these men might be criminals. They might be a plight on this Earth. But, aside from the trunk... and the chest, neither of them have been cruel to me. Shaun even explained things to me before he put me in the chest and under the bed. He gave me time to prepare myself for it. I'm not saying that makes any of this okay, but I can appreciate the fact that he wasn't cruel when he did it. The things Wyatt has pushed me to do haven't been out of cruelty either. He simply doesn't want me sick.

It's hilarious that the men my wonderful husband hired to kidnap me are treating me more kindly than he does. Absolutely hilarious. Still, I don't know what the point in truly kidnapping me would be. I doubt Adrian could come up with more than one hundred thousand dollars on his own without accessing company funds. He's got access to plenty of money in our joint account. Unfortunately, he likely has access to my personal account because who knows what things I signed my name and permission to when I was out of my mind. But I shouldn't have enough money in the account to pay a ransom.

“I'm not sure what good that would do.” I shrug, tilting my head to the side in consideration. “Considering the only person who would be able to pay my ransom is, well, me.”

Wyatt mimics me, tilting his head as well. “I'm sure you've got family who would be happy to pay it.”

“Nope. My parents are gone. I don't have any close relatives.”

He smiles. “Your friends would rally.”

“I have exactly one friend and she doesn't make ransom money.”

“Surely you have more than one,” he counters. “You're rich and friendly enough to have loads of friends.”

I stifle a laugh. “One, I'm not rich. I'm not poor, but I have always had to work. My Dad made really great business decisions and taught me well. And two, you have no idea how friendly I am.”

Shaun gives me a crooked smile. “You're friendly, baby. Don't pretend you aren't.”

I huff a breath, letting my shoulders sink with my heavy thoughts. “I don't think I can be friendly anymore. Besides, being friendly doesn't equate to having friends. I really do only have one friend and she really doesn't have any way to pay a ransom for me.”

Wyatt and Shaun exchange a look. I can do that with Regan, but we've had years to perfect it. “How long have you two known each other?” I ask.

They both look at me with their eyebrows raised but Wyatt answers. “Long enough. You're full of problems.”

I nod slowly. “I do bring plenty of trouble to the table. You could just cut me loose. I wouldn't rat you out. You haven't done anything horrible, other than trust my husband.”

“No,” Wyatt says.

“Why?”

“Because.” Wyatt looks back at Shaun but Shaun doesn't offer any help, he's too busy grinning back and forth between us. “What are you smiling about?”

Shaun shrugs. “I'm just enjoying myself. You're right, though. We can't cut her loose.”

“Why not?” I ask. “I'm far more interested in getting my life back on track than turning you in. Don't forget, you two essentially rescued me.”

“She actually could pay her own ransom,” Shaun muses. “We'd still get paid.”

“Outside,” Wyatt hisses. He's got his hand on the doorknob before he remembers that he probably shouldn't leave me unattended and unattached to something. He stalks back to me and leads me back into the living room to thread the free end of the handcuffs through the loop on the chair.

Shaun hands me the TV remote control before he follows Wyatt out onto the porch, a smile still spread firmly across his face.

I don't bother turning on the TV. I won't have a chance at overhearing the conversation on the porch if the TV is on. It's useless, though. All I can make out are muffled tones as they go back and forth. After a few minutes of listening to their garbled conversation, or possibly their argument, they come back inside and stand in front of me. Wyatt pulls out his phone. “I'm calling your husband. We'll see how badly he wants you back.”

I watch him dial the numbers and put the call on speakerphone, and it takes every drop of willpower I possess to stop myself from jumping when Adrian answers.

“Hello?”

“Hello, husband,” Wyatt answers.

“Oh,” Adrian says, as if he's just remembering that he hired Wyatt to do some menial task. “It's you. Is my wife giving you trouble? I expect she is.”

Wyatt exchanges a look with Shaun. “Things have changed.”

“Excuse me?”

“This is no longer a catch and release. We will not be returning your wife to you worse for wear. You have twenty-four hours to come up with one hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

“I hired you to do a simple job,” Adrian sneers. “Just do it and this can be finished.”

The corner of Wyatt's mouth lifts. “Like I said, things have changed. You see, we've been talking to your lovely wife and I've decided that she's worth so much more than what you offered.”

“Make it an even million,” Shaun calls with a smirk.

“Whatever she told you is a lie.”

Wyatt chuckles. “Whether or not she's lying doesn't matter. If you want her back, you'll pay the price.”

The glare I give Wyatt is so vicious that my nose snarls, but I don't say anything. I'm not going back to Adrian. I don't care how much money he throws at Wyatt. I'm not going back.

“How do I know you even have her?” Adrian asks. “For all I know, you killed her as soon as you got her out of the house and you're just trying to get paid for a job you didn't do.”

Wyatt laughs. “This part is always so funny to me. I do this for a living, husband.”

“Prove that you have her and we'll talk about increasing the fee.”

I bite my lips closed. I'm not saying a word. All three of them can go to hell. I'm going to get out of here and I am never, ever going back to Adrian.

“I don't think you understand, husband. This isn't a fee increase. This is a different situation entirely. You have until this time tomorrow to send the money to this account, otherwise we will not be returning your wife.”

“Prove that you still have her,” Adrian insists dryly.

Wyatt turns to me. “Say something.”

I shake my head. I'm not doing anything to appease Adrian and I'm not going to be returned to him.

Wyatt tilts his head, blinking slowly. “One word.”

I glare at him. He nods at Shaun.

Shaun closes the distance between us and smiles down at me. “You can choose to say something or I can help you do it. Either way, you're giving proof of life.”

I transfer my glare to him and press my lips together.

He laughs. “Stubborn ass.”

When you think about someone forcing you to make a noise, lots of unpleasant scenarios come to mind and almost every one of them involve a certain amount of pain or fear. That's not what happens. No, no painful extraction of sound for me. Instead of doing anything that a captive would expect, Shaun reaches out and sinks his fingers into my hair and tightens his fist near my scalp. Then he tugs abruptly, forcing me to look up at him. I can't help the way my mouth drops open any more than I can help the sharp gasp that escapes from it. I can't help the heat that explodes across my face, either.

A slow, wide smile stretches Shaun's lips as he looks down at me. “Noted.”

Oh god. “Don't even think about it.”

“There,” Wyatt says. “There's your proof. Twenty-four hours.”

“What if –” Whatever Adrian was going to say is cut off when Wyatt ends the call. Shaun is still holding my hair tight in his fist and Wyatt's dark gaze moves up Shaun's arm until he's staring into his eyes. “The call is over. Let her go.”

Shaun's smile doesn't falter. If anything, it becomes even more devious. “Oh, I don't know. I don't think she minds all that much.”

The way I'm tied to the chair doesn't give me much freedom of movement, but it gives me just enough to reach forward and pinch the inside of Shaun's thigh. The harder I pinch him the tighter he twists my hair and neither of us looks away, each of us refusing to even blink. By the time Wyatt stomps over to end our battle of wills, my eyes are burning and beginning to water and I'm sure my blush is a deeper red than it was when Shaun first started this.

Wyatt wraps his hand around my wrist but addresses Shaun. “Take your hand out of her hair. Now.”

A tense moment stretches between the three of us, but Shaun laughs and releases his hold on my hair so fast that I gasp again. I twist my fingers a little before I let go of his thigh, causing Wyatt to glance down at me. “Was that necessary?”

“Yes,” I pull against his hold on my wrist. “Let me go.”

Wyatt watches my face as he slowly releases my wrist.

“What happens if Adrian doesn't have the money?” I ask. “Actually, never mind. What happens if he somehow manages to come up with that ridiculous amount of money?”

“Shouldn't you be more concerned about what we'll do to you if he doesn't come through?” Wyatt counters, curiosity pulling at his expression.

I shouldn't answer him. I shouldn't give them any more leverage against me than they already have. But I'm so tired. I have spent months trying to protect what little sanity I was able to hold on to. Trying to weave my way through all the obstacles Adrian threw at me. Trying to defend my every thought and word against the onslaught of lies and deceptions. Trying to keep the facts straight through my forced isolation. Trying to grieve for my father.

I've been so alone.

And I'm so tired.

“I won't go back.” I whisper the words but they still sound thick as they leave my mouth. “I won't. Nothing you could do would be worse than going back to him.”

“Did he beat you?” Shaun asks quietly.

I shake my head. “No. Adrian wouldn't do that, but sometimes I think it would have been better than what he did do.”

“He starved you?” Shaun asks, sitting down on the couch to face me.

I shake my head again. “I couldn't eat anything. They were drugging me. It took me too long to figure it out.”

“They?” Wyatt asks, going to sit next to Shaun.

“Adrian hired a nurse to take care of me because I was,” I bring up my hands to put air quotes around the words, “ too unstable . He made me unstable. He made me crazy. I almost believed him. I think I did believe him for a while. Whatever drugs he was giving me in my food and those damn smoothies made me dizzy. I kept falling down. I could barely walk down the hall. I was terrified to go down the stairs. And that nurse was going to push me down them. I know she was going to push me down them.”

Wyatt and Shaun look at each other and then at me. I can't read their expressions, especially Wyatt's, but I can tell that Shaun isn't taking any joy in this confession.

“Why?” Wyatt asks.

I shake my head slowly. “The only reason there could be is the company and the money that comes with it.”

“He's your husband,” Wyatt says. “Why would he need to drug you to gain access to any of it?”

“It's something my father put into place. Everything went to me after he died and I have to sign off on every major decision concerning the company, literally. It has to be my signature or nothing happens. It can't be a stamp or a print or a sticker. It has to be my own signature from my own hand.”

“Why not just kill you?” Shaun asks. “Wouldn't that be so much easier than all that.”

I shake my head again. “In the event of my death, everything goes to charity. The company gets parted out and all the money gets distributed to the organizations my father chose. There's a much more detailed way to explain that with a lot of legal jargon, but that's the general idea.”

Shaun looks at Wyatt. “That's why he wants her back.”

“He'll find the money,” Wyatt says, then rubs across his eyebrow as he moves his eyes to me. “What can he access?”

“His own personal accounts. Our joint account.”

“But not the company account or your personal accounts?”

I shake my head.

Neither of them say anything else, both of them staring at me like I hold the deepest secrets of the world. I don't care what they're thinking. I don't care what plans they've got spinning around in their heads. I'm not going back. Lifting my chin, I give each of them a hard stare. “I'm not going back.”