I’ve brought dinner into Killian’s bedroom for me and Rona tonight. The club is packed. The chef made her favorite grilled cheese. I have a Disney movie on the flat screen for her. As I watch her holding her Barbie in one hand and eating the center out of the grilled cheese with the other, I try to take a deeper breath.
We’re safe.We’re safe.
There are at least twenty guards around this yacht and cameras everywhere. We’re locked in this room with abulletproof door. Killian showed me the gun safe behind the painting, and I do know how to defend myself. No one can get to us.
I repeat that over and over in my mind like a mantra. But it’s not making me feel better. I feel like I want to crawl out of my skin. I’ve never been one of those women who listened to their intuition. I never trusted myself enough. But tonight, it’s screaming at me. Something is wrong.
I text Killian:Everything ok there?
In the five minutes it takes for him to respond, I’ve convinced myself he’s dead, and I’m practically hyperventilating.
When my phone dings with his text, I sink into the bed clutching my heart.
Killian:Grand. Heading to meeting. All ok there?
No. No, all is not okay. I’m freaking out. I need you here now. But as I ground myself in reality, I can’t say any of that. Because we’re fine.
Me:All good. Miss you
Killian:Miss you too Vixen
I smile, feeling a little better from touching base with him.
“Mama, see princess!” Rona is hopping in front of the TV now, pointing at Jasmine. “Rona princess!”
Pushing off the bed, I scoop her up in my arms. I twirl us around until she’s squealing with laughter, her mouth open and stuffed with grilled cheese. “You are a princess.” I kiss the top of her head. “And don’t you ever forget that. Now chew your food.”
I stand there, just holding her in my arms, feeling her body heat, her fine hair tickling my neck. Watching her liquid brown eyes take in the magic of a Disney story.
Then there’s a gentle knock on the door and I freeze.
I stare at the door.
This is it. Whatever is on the other side of that door is the danger. I feel it, but I can’t stop it. It’s here.
I slide Rona down onto the floor. “Be right back, sweetheart.” My voice is raw. I straighten my back and go to the door. “Yes?”
“I have a letter for you,” the guard says through the door. “From one of the dancers.”
I recognize the guard’s voice. He doesn’t sound concerned or coerced. With a shaking hand, I open the door, half-expecting it to be Michael disguising his voice. But it is the guard. And he holds out a white envelope to me.
I take it. In the background I can hear the dance music pumping through the walls. “Which dancer?”
“Vega.”
I nod. Of course. “Thank you.”
I lock the door again and sit on the edge of the bed. I bend the envelope, expecting it to feel like a photo inside. A photo of her and Killian. But it’s soft like paper.
Ripping off the edge, I slip the paper out and read. My blood runs cold.
Because it’s much much worse.
Chapter 40
Killian
The cabbie drops us off at Washington Square Park as the sun is setting. I chose the southwest corner of the park where there are exits in every direction in case he decides to get cute.
