Wyatt blinks at him.
“It fell out of my pocket somewhere.”
Wyatt's sigh is both unimpressed and unamused.
“I dropped it down the drain. You'll just have to stay cuffed together.”
“Is it always going to be like this?” Wyatt asks.
Shaun winks at me and puts my coffee in front of me before pulling the key from his pocket and pressing it into my palm. “You've got the power, baby.”
“Do I?”
“Maybe,” Shaun says. “You've got him in handcuffs and me in an apron.”
I unlock the cuff on my wrist and hand the key to Wyatt. I almost unlocked his side first, but I lost my nerve. That would have just made all the traitorous steamy thoughts I've already been having worse. As it is, I've got the image of Wyatt handcuffed to a headboard running laps in my mind and that absolutely has to stop.
Shaun finishes setting the table and distributes the breakfast he cooked. The stuff in the pot turns out to be homemade chocolate sauce for the pancakes and it's one of the best things I have ever put into my mouth, especially after I dip a piece of bacon in it. We're all just eating, content in the quiet. It's peaceful and I didn't realize how much it’s affecting me until Shaun reaches across the table and wipes a tear from my cheek.
“Come on, now. I'm not that bad of a cook.”
I swallow and smile over at him. “No, it's not that. Everything is amazing. It's just that it feels calm.” I take a shaky breath and look back at my plate to poke at the last bite. “And safe.” I look up at him and then at Wyatt. “It shouldn't feel safe, though. Should it? I'm supposed to be kidnapped. It shouldn't feel safe. Right?”
Wyatt and Shaun exchange a long, silent look before their attention returns to me. Shaun opens his mouth to speak, but Wyatt holds up a hand to stop him. “I'm only beginning to get an understanding of how precarious things were for you, but I can assure you that youaresafe with us now. Neither of us will hurt you. We may be holding you against your will, but no harm will come to you while you are with us. I promise.”
I nod and go back to poking at the chocolate covered bit of pancake left on my plate. I don't know if I'm still here against my will, and that scares me. What will happen when this is over? Will I just go back to my life like I never met them? How could I possibly do that?
Then there’s the most terrifying question of all.
What if I don't want to go back?
Which leads to even more scary questions.
Can I stay with them?
Would they even want me to?
Chapter Nineteen
Wyatt
He's two minutes late for the drop. I always give people five extra minutes before I move on with the consequences of not showing. I'm not so rigid that I can't be empathetic to things like traffic. The five minute cushion has been beneficial to me in the past, too. You never know what high jinks might occur during a drop or exchange, despite your best laid plans. One thing's for certain, though. If the husband doesn't show with the money within the next three minutes, I'll be forced to go through with those consequences.
I just wish I knew what they were.
I shouldn't have slept with Larken last night. The handcuffs were a mistake. And I definitely shouldn't have held her. This situation is getting out of hand and will become dangerous in so many ways if I'm not careful. Careful. That's laughable. Careful ran out the window the moment I carried her out of her house.
I can't go through with the consequences I would normally employ. The jobs I typically take don't involve women, children, or innocent people. Larken has been on the receiving end of so much unfairness. She shouldn't have to pay the price for the husband's misconduct, especially since he doesn't actually care what happens to her. I'm thoroughly convinced of that. The husband only cares about the money. Her money. Sending video footage of her being tortured because of him won't spur him to do anything, and that's not something I'm interested in putting her through anyway. She's been through enough.
The only reason I'm not just letting her go and cutting my losses is that that would leave her in danger. From the way it sounds, Adrian can't access the greater part of her money or the company she inherited without her physical presence. He'll never stop coming after her. He'll never let her go. Well, that's not entirely true. He will let her go the minute he forces her to sign everything over to him. Then he won't need her anymore and he can let her go, right off the top floor of a building. That seems like something he'd do. He wouldn't want to get dirty. He'd push her off, or pay someone else to do it.
A gut-wrenching image of Larken plummeting backwards towards the hard asphalt from the top of a skyscraper flashes in my mind like a clip from a movie and my stomach turns. I close my eyes against it, but I can't un-see the look in her terrified eyes, even if it wasn't real; which brings me to the other reason I'm going to see this through.
I fucking hate this guy. The very fact that he's so willing to be so shitty is disgusting. I will never understand how women like Larken – intelligent, kind, extraordinary women – end up with spineless assholes like Adrian. It is absolutely mind boggling. I'm going to put him through as much misery as I can manage and hopefully he'll be no more than an unfortunate memory when I put Larken back on her feet.
That's another problem I'm going to have to work through. Larken will have to go back to her life. She worked for her life. She deserves to live it exactly as she was meant to without Adrian, or me, or any other man trying to control it. If Adrian delivers the money, great. I've already decided that any money he hands over rightfully belongs to Larken, so I'll give it to her once this is all over. If he doesn't, well, I know where he sleeps at night.
With forty-five seconds to go, Adrian makes an appearance. I picked one of those public gyms where you can buy a membership a couple towns away as the drop off point. He's supposed to put the bag with the money into locker number 156 and leave. I left the combination lock unlocked. He's been instructed to lock it after he puts the money inside, and then he's supposed to pick up a brochure from the front counter on his way out the door. I added that last instruction because I've paid for a membership here for years and he's never been here before. Larken said that he would only use the private gym at his country club. I make an appearance here every few months or whenever I'm in the area. It's not odd for me to be here, or to not come in for months at a time, since I travel so much for ‘work’.
