“Right this way, darling,” Felicity ushers me down the street, a shopping bag in each hand. And that doesn’t even count the ones the guards Gio sent with us are lugging around a few paces behind us.
The woman has no shame when it comes to spending money. I lost count two stores back, but I’m pretty sure we’re in the neighborhood of four thousand dollars already. Aside from some jewelry, blown glass figurines, and a new pair of shoes for her, she’s outfitted me with three new dresses, a big sun hat, and a pair of heels that I would never even consider torturing my feet with.
But I have to admit—kidnapping aside—it’s been a fun outing with her. Felicity Karver is a force to be reckoned with, a bright spot on this island that has everyone turning their heads and smiling as they wave. Could be all the money she spends, but I think it’s more than that.
I think she cares. Which is a vast difference from the men I sense both Mattheus and Gio to be.
“Ooh! There it is! My favorite boutique on the entire planet.” Turning, she hands Hector the two bags in her hands. “I cannot wait to watch you try on everything in here, my darling! They have such cute stuff!”
“We’ll be right outside,” Hector says, gesturing toward a bench in front of the small boutique.
“You don’t want to come and watch the fashion show?”
Hector bares his teeth in a smile. “Not a chance. Though I’m sure she’ll look beautiful.” I may not know much about men, but I don’t miss the way his gaze rakes over me. Nor can I ignore how it makes my skin crawl.
“Okay, fine. Spoilsports. We’ll be out in a bit. Feel free to help yourself to some of that chocolate we grabbed at the dessert shop. My treat to you for protecting us.” With that, she heads into the boutique, not even bothering to cast them a backward glance.
“I really don’t need anything else,” I insist. I haven’t managed to find a single moment where I can slip away. Either she’s been with me, or both Hector and Jack have hovered like shadows.
Felicity heads straight for the counter, but before she speaks to the woman behind it, she casts a glance out the window. Both Hector and Jack are standing outside, their gazes in the dessert bag. “That should hold them a while.” She turns to the middle-aged woman with graying hair and tan skin that contrasts beautifully with the canary yellow sundress she’s wearing. “Did you get my message?”
“I did. The outfit you’ll want her to try on is hanging right by that rack.” She points toward a dressing room. “And you need to use that dressing room. It has the most space.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything for you.” The woman reaches over and cups Felicity’s hands.
“Okay, darling, we don’t have much time.” Pulling away from the woman, Felicity ushers me toward a doorway that leads toward the back. After grabbing an outfit that’s hanging by the door—a pair of burnt orange shorts and a black one-piece swimsuit—she turns to me. “I want you to know that meeting you was the only joy I have in my life. While I would love to see you again, I know it’s not possible. Not for your safety.” She leans in and presses a quick kiss to my cheek. “You have to remain hidden until after November 1st, okay? By then, everything will be okay.”
“I don’t understand. What’s happening?”
“Go in there and put this on.” She shoves it into my hands. “Then knock on the side door three times, okay? Three times. Remember that.” She smiles, tears shimmering in her eyes. “There hasn’t been a day of your life where I haven’t loved you, my darling daughter.”
Tears burn in my eyes now too. “Come in with me.”
Felicity smiles at me. “I wish I could. But I have to make sure they can’t follow you.” She glances over her shoulder again. “Go. There’s no more time. That chocolate will only last so long, and then they’ll get bored. If you hear me say pineapple, then you know time is up, okay?” She all but shoves me into the room. It’s small, consisting of a single chair and one of those full-length mirrors that always seems to add ten pounds.
To the left of the mirror is a door. Knock three times.
Pineapple?
I do as she said and quickly change, then slide my feet back into the simple tennis shoes she bought me at the last store we were in.
“How is it going in there, darling?” she asks.
“Good. I just finished getting dressed.”
The bell dings, signaling another customer entering the building.
“Oh, good! I fear that shawl might look like a pineapple on you, but I just had to see. You boys are just in time,” she adds.
Pineapple. I eye the door. “It looks—okay. I’m just adjusting; then I’ll come out.”
“Sounds great. I can’t wait to see.”
Quickly, I rush over toward the door and raise my fist. Won’t they hear, though? I clear my throat and knock once. Twice. Before I get to the third knock, the door opens and someone yanks me through, then closes it quietly again.
I start to scream, but a strong hand clamps over my mouth, and I’m yanked against a hard chest.
