“Without telling anyone? She made plans to have lunch with Harlow and Melinda and Chuck later this week. What’s going on in her head?” I try to stare my brother down, but he just holds up his hands.
“She didn't tell me, but she looks tired and says she’s been unwell and just needs a rest. I didn't want to pry because I hate it when people do that to me. It’s why I bought that property in Ireland in the first place.”
Before I can respond, the doorbell rings.
“I’ll get it.” Declan leaves us, striding down the hallway, and we all patiently wait to see who it is.
ChapterThirteen
Harlow
Istand there, chair raised over my head, my heart trying to beat out of my chest, my breath loud in my ear, waiting for someone to come down the stairs. I know it’s only a matter of time.
“Harlow, don't be stupid! Get out of here. Save yourself. I’ll be alright.” Jaxon is shouting at me now, seeing no point in being quiet since we’ve already been made.
“Oh, don't be a martyr. We’re in this together, Jax. You know, like ‘til death do us part.” He groans, tugging at the shackles, but all he succeeds in doing is digging them into his skin. He's going to have big bruises there if he's not careful.
“That’s what I’m worried about,” he mumbles, and there’s this frustrated bitterness in his voice that makes my heart race for a different reason. He’s worried about us—about me—and right now, I need him to be positive. Wecanget through this.
The door at the top of the stairs slams open, then feet rush down it. As they appear in my vision, I swing like I’m playing for the Yankees, and it’s with great satisfaction that my chair collides with Raquel. She screams as her nose shatters, and blood starts pouring out as she tumbles the rest of the way down the stairs. I’ve pulled back the chair, readying myself to strike again, when Peter’s voice stops me.
“Harlow, I have my gun aimed at Jaxon’s head. If you even so much as twitch, I’ll put a bullet through his brain. We’ll simply go back to plan A and ransom you.”
I drop the chair to the floor, ignoring Raquel rolling around in pain, and move in front of Jaxon, hopefully taking his death off the table.
“Don’t you dare put yourself between me and that gun!” he screams at me and rattles his restraints even more as Peter emerges.
“How the fuck did you get out of that chair?” he asks as Julia steps down behind him. Before I can answer, Julia’s gasp alerts me to the fact that she’s noticed they’re missing a key player.
“Where is she? Where’s Jacinta?” She tries to launch herself at me, but Peter holds her back.
“Well, that is a shame. I guess our timeline just got pushed up. The two of you are going to follow every one of my instructions, or I won’t hesitate to start putting bullets in you. I won't kill you instantly, so don’t make the foolish assumption that you’ll be saving yourself any pain. It will be gut shots, and the one who isn’t shot will have to listen as the other slowly bleeds to death. Get the keys out of my pocket, Julia, and release Jaxon. We’re going to have to take a trip.”
He nudges Raquel with his shoe. “Get up and stop your wailing, you annoying bitch. Grab those ropes and tie Harlow's hands together. Then go fetch your sister.”
Raquel staggers to her feet, and I feel immense satisfaction at the sight of her swollen face. It looks like I may have knocked out a tooth, too. Score one for me. That will teach her to put her filthy hands on what’s mine.
“Cecelia is busy entertaining Sergio,” Julia tells Peter, and he cackles.
“In that case, she’s going to be useless to us. Dammit. Fine, it will have to be just the three of us. We need to hurry and get out of here. I'm sure the police will be on their way soon.”
Raquel staggers over to me, grabbing the rope that came off Jacinta from the floor. “Hands behind your back, Harlow, or Jaxon gets the first bullet. All we need is one drop of blood.”
“You need the code, too.” I sneer back at him as I hold my hands out to Raquel. She ties the rope around them none too gently as Julia releases Jaxon from his shackles before tying rope around his wrists as well. I see him wince in pain now that he’s rubbed them raw from struggling against his restraints.
“I bet Jaxon sings like a canary the moment I threaten to put a bullet in you. I'm not worried, Harlow, though I think you should be.” Peter is smiling maniacally, and I don't doubt he’ll do as he says.
“Let’s go.” He gestures up the stairs with his gun, and both Jaxon and I start walking up them. “Don’t even think about making a run for it,” he warns, and I see Jaxon’s shoulders sag like he's lost hope. But I refuse to go out like this. My life was shit because of this woman fucking with it. Anger surges through me at the thought of what it could have been if she and her manipulative, narcissistic tendencies had left my mom alone. A small feeling of sadness rolls over me, but I’ve made peace with my life and only want to look forward. I willnotlet her wreck mine like she did Mom’s, so the first moment I get, I’m fighting back.
The trunk of their car is cramped with Jaxon and I squeezed in together. There’s not even enough room for us to help each other undo our ropes. Not that it would do us any good. We’re traveling too fast to throw ourselves out the back.
By the time we’ve been driving for what has to be at least thirty minutes, my limbs are tingling from lack of circulation. I’m trying to wriggle into a position where I can try to untie his hands, but Jaxon lets out a pained groan that makes me freeze.
“Fuck, babe, I’m sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.” I lean forward and brush my lips against his, not wanting to split it again by putting too much pressure on it.
He starts to chuckle. “I wasn’t groaning because of my ribs. I was groaning because you’re rubbing against my body, and it feels good.” I blink a couple of times and shake my head.
“I cannot believe you can get hard in a time like this," I lightly scold him, and I feel his lips turn up.
