Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 06 - Revenge in Paradise (17 page)

As much as it might be fun to open the cupboards, I restrained myself; I didn’t want another visit from Gunner. I pushed an armchair in front of the door. There wasn’t a single throw pillow in the room, unlike at my house where I had several on each chair, most of them with a painted tropical design.

I kicked my leg like I had a nervous tick, careful to make sure I didn’t breach the threshold, unlike Fab, who would’ve vaulted the fence already, leaving Gunner in a heap on the floor. How long would it take for Fab to realize that something had gone wrong? Then what? She could hardly storm the castle.

The door flew open and Gunner filled the doorway. “You were told to stay inside.”

“I am inside.” The space between me and the door had to be at least two feet. “How about letting me sit out by the pool?”

He flipped the chair around, and in one swift move, I ended up back on the dining room chair. He whipped out zip ties.

I knew where this was going––I was about to be tied to a chair for hours. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“You should’ve thought of that before acting like a willful child.” He jerked my arms behind me.

“Fine, I’ll pee on the chair.” I wasn’t going to resist even if I could, this had to be over soon.

“There’s the bathroom,” he said, and pointed. He looked at his watch. “You’ve got two minutes.”

I slammed the door behind me and pushed the lock. I peed first, in case I ran out of time, and then sprinkled cold water on my face. No escaping through the bathroom window since there wasn’t one.

Gunner knocked on the door. “Time’s up. Come out or I’ll kick the door in.”

“I’m not done yet.”

“Okay, if that’s the way you want it. Stand back. On a count of three, the door will be open. It will be your fault if you end up unconscious.”

I reached over and unlocked the door. A lot of people—well a few, anyway—knew I was here. How could they hurt me, or worse?

“If you let me sit on the couch, I promise not to move.”

“No. You should’ve thought of that before dicking me around. I’ve got better things to do than to babysit.” He placed the dining chair in the middle of the room and fastened my right wrist to its arm.

I moved my wrist and the plastic cut into my skin. “This is too tight.”

“Then don’t move.” He twisted his fingers in my hair, pulling until I yelped. A strand got caught in his ring and he yanked it out, making me wince. “I’d better not have to come back.” He slammed out of the room.

Whoever designed this chair should be shot. I don’t know how long I sat without fidgeting but it had to have been a record. I couldn’t relax because the top of the chair hit at the base of my skull. I misjudged the size of the seat and, squirming around, my butt slipped to the floor and tipped the chair at an odd angle. A sharp pain let me know that the zip tie had embedded in my skin, which started to bleed. It made me smile half-heartedly to see a few drops of blood dribble on the pristine marble floor. No getting comfortable now.

I lay there for what seemed like a long time, pressing my temple against the cold floor, listening to my stomach rumble. If Dunbar had someone monitoring the room, they didn’t have any sympathy for my situation. I began to doubt if I’d ever be allowed to leave in one piece.

Why? Did Brick screw Dunbar? Would I be a casualty? I shuddered at what could happen if the answer was yes. The door banged opened, and I heard the footsteps of more than one person. I didn’t say a word.

“I want this floor cleaned up now,” Dunbar barked, walking around me. “Get her a Band-Aid.”

Gunner leaned down and nicked my skin when he cut the tie with a switchblade. “Get up.”

As hard as I tried, I couldn’t suppress the small scream.

“Looks like you’ll be spending the night,” Dunbar informed me.

“I’m the delivery girl,” I pleaded with him. “Let me go and take your issues up with Mr. Famosa. I’m of no use to you.” I rubbed my wrist.

“I disagree.” He gave me a tight smile.

Without thinking, I blurted, “You’re a piece of shit.”

He cleared the space between us and slapped my cheek so hard that my head whiplashed to the side. “You will speak to me with respect, do you understand me? Your response better be, ‘Yes, sir.’”

I blinked several times, my brain feeling foggy.

“Yes, sir,” I mumbled.

“Look at me––and louder,” he boomed.

I looked into his hard cold eyes, which sent a shiver through me.

“Yes, sir.”

“Put her on the patio and tie her to a chair. I don’t want any more mess in my house.”

Gunner shoved me into the bathroom. “Hurry up and don’t close the door.”

My doubts about ever being released were escalating. I washed the dried blood off my arm and fresh blood pooled around the gash. Gunner came back, throwing down a gauze bandage. He unscrewed the top off a bottle, but I couldn’t see the label. He held my arm over the sink and poured the clear liquid over my skin.

I screamed.

“This way it won’t get infected.” He unrolled the gauze and rolled it around my wrist.

Tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes.

“You got your wish. You’re going to get to sit outside. Go ahead and run, you’ll be very sorry.”

I had all of the smart-ass sucked out of me. I didn’t make eye contact, just walked ahead of him and sat in a chaise, hoping he’d leave me there.

His eyebrows went up at my choice of furniture but he didn’t say anything.

“I’m hungry.” My voice was just above a whisper.

“You get one bottle of water and that’s it. You should’ve thought about food before making Mr. Dunbar mad.”

“I’ve done nothing to deserve this kind of treatment and you know it. Your mother would be so proud.”

“Say one more word and I’ll gag you.” He zip tied my good arm, this time not quite as tight, I tested it and found some play. He came back and threw a bottle of water onto my lap. I didn’t say a word, and stared straight ahead.

“This is your last chance,” he said quietly. A few moments later, I heard his footsteps retreating across the marble floor.

I turned on my side and curled into a ball, closing my eyes.

“What the hell? I’m worried about you and you’re asleep.”

My eyes flew open to find Fab crouched down by the side of the chaise, the last rays of daylight slipping away.

She ran her hand over my bandaged wrist. “What’s going on?”

“Ow. Keep your voice down.” Whatever Gunner had poured on it had taken forever to stop burning. “Get out of here before you get caught, and go get help.”

She slid a pocketknife from her jeans and cut the tie. “We’ve got three minutes before the security cameras go back on. I recognized the system and got a little help. Follow directly behind me, nose to my back, and they’ll never know how you got out of here.”

My lip quivered as she helped me up. “Did I tell you I’m very happy to see you?”

“Hurry up, we’re running out of time. I’m going to remind you of your gratitude later.”

At the far end of the property, a second gate stood open about a few inches. We barely cleared the opening, when the motor on the fence whirred and the backyard floodlights came on all at once. The exterior of the house was awash in lights, including along the street.

“No car?” I looked at the empty street. “Run! Leave me behind and get help.” I was headed for a panic attack at the thought of getting caught.

Fab grabbed my hand. “Move your ass.” We jumped into the ivy, a four-foot wide strip that ran along the front of the house. From behind a tree, she pushed a baby blue Vespa to the street and hopped on.

“Don’t just stand there,” she said.

I slid on behind her. “Where did you get this?”

“I… uh…borrowed it.”

“You stole it?” I hissed.

She stomped on the gas, and for something I thought was a bicycle with a motor, it shot down the road.

I wrapped my arms around her middle. “I’m in awe,” I whispered in her ear. I hid my face in her back, afraid to look. She gained speed as we rolled along the oceanfront in the pitch dark. I said a silent prayer, knowing we were about to die, run over by a large auto that didn’t give a damn––or worse, Gunner had tracked us. Since talking was impossible, I held on for dear life. Taking a quick peek back, the wind slapping my face, something thumped the top of my head and I hid my face again.

Fab surprised me when she put on her signal and pulled into a convenience store and whipped out her phone. “I’ve got to send a text and then we’re off. We don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary.”

“We missed our flight.”

“Did you hit your head? We still have a hotel room.” She smacked my butt. “Let’s go.” She merged back onto the highway and pushed the scooter to sixty.
Who knew?

I shook with relief at the sight of the hotel. Fab blew past the driveway—what was she up to now? Special parking for scooters? She circled around to the far corner and followed a path that ran down to the beach. I raised my eyebrows when she pushed it around the back of a Tiki Shack, parking it next to its cousin scooters.

“I had to return it. I don’t want to face charges of grand theft scooter.”

“That would blow your bad-ass image.” I wanted to hug her, but more than that, I wanted to be safe inside the hotel room.

“Does Dickhead Client know which hotel you’re staying at?” Fab grabbed my arm.

“I didn’t tell anyone, only gave Mother the information. I’m happy that I left you the info, ignoring Brick’s demand that you not know the location. Screw him.”

True to form, Fab knew how to get around the building without using the front door and traipsing through the lobby.

“This time, I was the one with the bad feeling,” Fab said, leading me around the pool area, through some ground cover and into a service elevator. When the doors opened on our floor, she looked out and scanned the hallway.

I breathed a sigh of relief when she slammed the room door shut and threw the bolts.

She turned and faced me. “Why do you have a bruise on your cheek?”

“Dunbar hit me. Didn’t like my attitude,” I said as Fab helped me with the hooks on my jacket. I shrugged it off and tossed it onto a chair. “Order me a pitcher of margaritas and an enchilada. I’m in desperate need of a shower.” I headed to the bathroom, only stopping to step out of my skirt and kick it out of the way.

The water gushed over me in a waterfall effect. I stood underneath and released all my pent up emotions in gulping sobs. I lathered the Plumeria-scented shower gel, courtesy of the hotel, all over me, making a mental note to boost some off the maid cart. I wrapped myself in one of the white cotton robes that hung on a hook, cinching the belt tight. Looking in the mirror, I ignored the slight bruising and pulled my hair up into a ponytail.

“I want you to know I’m never trading you in for a shinier model. You know, less miles.” I smiled at her, refusing to get teary since she hated it.

“That’s good timing,” Fab said at the knock on the door.

“Take your gun just in case.” I looked for my purse and realized Dunbar had everything, my purse, my phone, and too much personal information.

A hunky, barely-legal beach boy pushed a cart into the room. Blond hair, blue eyes, big dimples. He knew he was cute. He ran his eyes leisurely over Fab, enjoying himself. She flashed him a sexy wink, tipped him generously, and then with one hand on his chest, shoved him out the door and closed it behind him.

“You remembered the salt and the wedge of lime.” I filled my glass to the top with the delightful green beverage and savored the first sip, took a slight breath, and then downed half. “Girl hug?”

Fab rolled her eyes and pointed to the king-sized bed. “Have a seat.” She handed me the delicious-looking enchiladas, settling on the bed across from me. “What in the hell happened?”

“I don’t know.” I related the details from the moment I stepped out of the rental car. When finished I said, “Thank goodness I had nothing to do with renting the car I drove. The last thing I want is an arrest for grand theft. Not to mention my Glock was a gift from Brad that I want back. I don’t care about Brick’s overpriced car, that’s his problem.

“I’m impressed with the way you disarmed the security system,” I added.

“About that”—she paused—“I had to call Zach, then Slice, since Zach wouldn’t answer my calls.” She held up her hand. “I knew in an hour something went wrong. I waited an extra hour just to be sure. Then I burned up the phone lines, no one answering their phones, and believe me, I tried them all.”

“Creole’s going to hit the roof. I didn’t tell him about this trip because I thought it would be like the last job––no problems.”

Fab refilled my drink. “Creole’s calls went to voicemail. To show you how desperate I was, I called Harder and he’d gone to an all-day conference.”

“Where the hell is Brick?” I held out my hand. “Can I use your phone?” Voicemail annoyed me, especially when I was mad.

“Call me, now,” I growled. Then I texted him:
911
.

“Without my ID, I can’t get on a plane and I’m not staying here.”

Fab’s phone rang immediately. I looked at the screen before tossing it back, shaking my head.

“She’s asleep. This wasn’t overreaction on my part. Dunbar––you know, another one of your sleazy clients––had her tied to a chair. And she’s sporting a black eye thanks to him. Apparently, business must not be very good for you if you’re taking on clients like him. He needs an upgrade to his security system.” She held the phone away from her ear while Zach yelled something unintelligible, and then she hung up on him.

“Turns out Dunbar’s a client of AZL’s,” Fab told me. AZL Securities is Zach’s company that he’d built into one of the biggest in the state.

Zach could be a little more gracious, since I nursed him back to health a time or two in our relationship. I knew him well enough to know he was just worried; he thought I took too many risks, which was another reason for our breakup. I’d give him a sincere thank you and a free meal at Jake’s.

“Zach thought I was using him on a personal job, he didn’t believe you were involved. Once I convinced Slice, he passed the news on. I stayed on the line while the tech guy engineer arranged interruption in service and walked me through what to do.”