Authors: Sydney Logan
Gabe snorts. “Like hell you are.
“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Jason says.
“I can’t ask you guys to—”
“You didn’t ask.”
“We either all go or we all stay in the vehicle,” Gabe replies firmly.
“Fine, but Cara stays.”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue. We do a last-minute check of our weapons, and then I announce it’s time to go.
“Wait!” Cara yells. “There’s something on the radar. Finally. Is that . . .”
All of us look at the screen.
“There you are, you miserable bastard,” she whispers.
We breathe a sigh of relief. It’s the first sign of him in days.
“Fantastic. Which part of the house—”
But Cara’s shaking her head. “He’s . . . not in the house.”
“Then where the hell is he?”
Cara types the coordinates into her laptop. Within seconds, her face goes ashen.
No. No. No.
“He’s in the Unites States,” I murmur.
“Worse,” she says, and my blood runs cold. “He’s in Kentucky.”
I’m trying to nap in my bedroom when I feel the vibration of my cell. Pulling it out of my pocket, I sigh with relief when I see Ethan’s name on the screen.
“Ethan, I’m so glad you called! Why haven’t you been answering your—”
“Sweet Jenna,” a voice murmurs.
The wrong voice.
Stavros
.
“I’ve missed talking to you, Jenna. And you sound so happy. Impending motherhood must agree with you.”
How does he know about the baby?
“Why are you calling me from Ethan’s phone?”
“I’m calling from Ethan’s phone because he’s here with me. He just told me the happy news. Tell me, Jenna, are you hoping for a boy or a girl? Or are you hoping for the clichéd
healthy baby
? That’s what most parents say, but I never believe them. Deep in their hearts, they surely have a preference, don’t you think?”
“Let me talk to Ethan.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
I hear a muffled scream in the background, and piercing fear grips my heart.
“I swear to God if you hurt—”
“You need to remain calm, Jenna. For both Ethan and the baby. Now, I know you’re heavily guarded, so here is what you’re going to do. Are you listening?”
I glance at the door.
Is Sebastian just outside? Or my dad? Where’s my dad?
“I’m listening.”
“Good girl. All I want is the chance to talk to you . . . face-to-face. But Ethan continues to refuse me this one simple request.”
My entire body trembles. “Please don’t hurt him, Stavros. I’ll do anything.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. Now, I need you to listen carefully. I’m at an old abandoned church out near Armory Park. Do you know the way?”
Armory Park? Stavros is
here
?
“St. Margaret’s? Yes, I know the way.”
“Very good. Do you think you can find a way to leave your guards behind?”
I glance at the door again. “I don’t know . . .”
“Come now, you’re a world famous con artist who’s managed to dodge the police for years. Surely a few bodyguards isn’t out of your realm of expertise, especially when Ethan’s life is at stake.”
A horrible wave of nausea sweeps over me.
“I’ll find a way.”
“I thought you might. If I suspect you’ve brought reinforcements, I will be very unhappy, and I will not hesitate to kill him. Do you understand?”
I close my eyes.
“I understand.”
“You have one hour.”
The line goes dead.
Sneaking out of my father’s house isn’t nearly as easy as it used to be, but I somehow manage to do it. Taking one of the guards’ vehicles or Dad’s truck isn’t an option, so I sneak around the side of the house, grateful for the camouflage provided by the darkening sky. As I round the corner, I stop abruptly when I spot the police cruiser, but behind the wheel is a deputy with his hat covering his face, obviously sound asleep.
Dad’s tax dollars at work.
Grateful that at least one man is sleeping on the job, I make my way over to the neighbor’s house. Lenny Shepherd has lived next to us since I was a little girl. He’s in his eighties now, and I pray he’s sleeping peacefully as I climb into the cab of his old Ford pickup. I sigh with relief when I see the keys in the ignition. It starts right up.
As I drive, I glance down at the truck’s clock. It’d taken nearly half an hour to convince my shadows I was actually going to bed for the night. The drive to Armory Park takes at least fifteen minutes. Thankfully, the roads are deserted. For a split second, I consider the possibility that this is a stupid decision. I don’t have a gun. No means of protection at all. Am I naïve to think Stavros won’t hurt Ethan? Does he really just want to talk?
Probably not. But he has Ethan at the church.
I drive faster.
Where’s Jason? Cara? Gabriel?
With one hand firmly on the steering wheel, I use the other to caress my stomach.
“Everything’s going to be okay, baby. I’m going to save your daddy, and I’m going to save us.”
I have to believe it. The alternative is unthinkable.
Our family had never been particularly religious, but Mom had been raised Catholic, so holidays were spent attending Mass in the sanctuary at St. Margaret’s. Once beautiful, the church is now dilapidated and decayed, but the stained glass window remains the focal point. As a young girl, I’d gaze at the Virgin Mary in the glass, with her shimmering colors reflecting in the sun, and I’d think about her goodness and light. I also thought about her absolute love for her child—a child she hadn’t expected, but loved nonetheless.
I never dreamed I’d be able to relate to that.
“Jenna.”
I turn away from the altar to find Stavros perched high above me, looking down from the balcony.
“Where is he?”
A side door suddenly opens, and Maria and Marcello walk into the sanctuary with a couple of armed guards. But no Ethan.
Where’s Ethan?
Maria takes my arm and leads me back toward the altar, where her brother waits with a chair he’s placed in front of the stained glass window.
Stavros walks down the stairs and strolls up the aisle toward me. “Oh, I imagine Ethan and his entourage are on his plane and on their way back to Kentucky.”
Marcello shoves me into the chair. His sister begins to tie my hands behind my back.
I’m limp. Numb. Stupid.
“He’s not here,” I whisper breathlessly. “Ethan’s not here.”
“No, but I’m sure he will be, very, very soon.”
I’m bait. My baby and I are bait.
“Ethan will kill you!” I struggle against the rope. Maria and Marcello each put a hand on my shoulder.
Stavros smiles. “I knew you’d come. It’s too easy to manipulate a cell phone to display . . . any name you like. I’m not very tech savvy, but Maria is quite the computer genius. Her skills have proven rather useful over the past few days. She’s made it very easy for us to avoid your boyfriend and keep us out of sight.
“He’ll find me. You know he will.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it. I’m hoping by then I’ll have convinced you to join my team. And then you can convince
him
. Or not. Ethan’s really not my priority, to be honest. It’s
you
I want, Jenna. I’ve wanted you all along.
I struggle against the rope biting my wrists. “And this is how you show it? By lying to me? By tying me to this chair?”
“You wouldn’t listen to me otherwise.”
I don’t tell him he’s right.
“Well, let me save you the speech. I will never work for you. Stavros. Never! And when Ethan gets here—”
It’s the last sentence I’m allowed. Marcello places duct tape over my mouth.
Stavros walks toward me. He doesn’t touch me, but he hovers above me, smiling wickedly.
“And when Ethan gets here, I’ll kill you both.”
Time passes slowly.
I have no idea how many hours I sit here. The shadows are my only timepiece as the walls continue to darken. What little light filtered through the stained glass disappeared for good ages ago. All I know for sure is that it isn’t dawn, and I’m all alone.
I’m not by myself, but I’m most definitely alone.
Stavros is nervous. I’m not sure why, but the more he paces up and down the aisle, the more confident I become that Ethan is getting closer. He’s mumbling . . . not in Greek but in Italian. I assume so he can talk privately with the twins. I can’t quite catch it all, but the bits and pieces I do understand make me grateful for the two years of foreign language my mother forced me to take in high school. Maria and Marcello seem to have grown bored with his ramblings and have fallen asleep on adjacent pews. The guards come in from time to time but stay mostly outside. I’m glad, because I’ve just discovered a very important thing about Maria.
She sucks at knot tying.
Twist.
Tug.
I have no grand escape plan. My only goal is to get free and to get the hell out of this church. My cell phone’s still in my pocket, and I thank God that I turned it on silent before leaving the house. Stavros and the twins really have so much to learn about kidnapping. You always check your prisoner for any electronic devices, because, as he said earlier, cell phones are so easily manipulated.