“That’s okay, they can fall in love and get married then instead. We’re having a boy, you can have a girl, it’ll be perfect.” As he talks, he binds my feet together with more zip ties, then carefully ties a strip of fabric across my mouth, fastening it behind my head. “Are you okay?” he asks again, checking me over with worried eyes.
I nod, although I’m breathing hard, my heart racing in my chest.
“Close your eyes. I’m going to give you the shot that’s going to knock you out. The dose should keep you unconscious for around about thirty-five to forty-five minutes. By the time you wake up, this will be almost over. Okay?” Evan’s brow is furrowed, and his eyes are full of concern. “Are you really sure you want to do this?”
My nod is slower to come this time, but it does, and even though my brother doesn’t look convinced, he nods back. “Okay, Little Sis. I love you,” he says, taking a sealed package from his backpack as I close my eyes.
EIGHTEEN
SEBASTIAN
I try notto stare in the direction she left in, but everything in me is driving me to go after her. To stop this, to demand that she not put herself at risk, to force her to let me handle this. But I can’t. It pains me to admit that, as crazy as her plan is, it’s a good one.
Setting Courtney up and having the cops find her red-handed with Starling tied up in her trunk is a guaranteed way of getting her arrested and out of our lives. Honestly, if Courtney hadn’t escalated and tried to convince Tom to hurt Starling, I’d have been content to just fuck with her life. But I won’t allow anyone to hurt my wife, and as far as I’m concerned, Courtney has dug her own grave, and she should be grateful that she’s only going to jail or the loony bin.
My heart beats steadily in my chest, every minute that passes making my muscles tighten with anxiety. The moment I spot Evan striding casually back from the admin building, my chest hitches and my blood starts to heat with fear. If he’s back, then Starling is drugged, incapacitated, and locked in the trunk of a car.
Even though I know the plan inside and out, there are so many elements that are out of my control, and I hate it.
“We’re all set,” Evan says, retaking his seat beside Sammy. Curling his arm around her shoulder, he pulls her into him, his smile brittle and fake.
“We’re a go,” Clay says quietly, his gaze fixed on the security footage from the parking structure he has playing on his cell in his lap.
Inhaling purposefully, I try to slow my heart rate. I need to stay calm just in case anything happens, but it’s getting harder and harder to fight the need to chase after my perfectly psychotic wife and make sure she’s okay.
“When are you sending the text?” Sammy asks.
“When she looks like she’s getting sick of waiting,” Clay tells her.
“To be honest, I wasn’t sure she’d show up at all,” Hunter says.
“Oh, she was always going to show up. She wants Starling’s life, and the text Starling sent her was tea central. It would drive Courtney crazy not to know what she wants,” Sammy says.
With his cell in his lap, Clay types too fast to follow on his laptop. I don’t know for sure, but I’m assuming he’s doctoring the security footage to make sure that none of the cameras have a view of Courtney’s car. We only want the cops to see her entering the parking structure after Starling and then leaving in her car in five minutes’ time.
“What’s she doing?” I ask.
“She’s leaning against her trunk, scrolling social media on her cell,” Clay answers, his gaze barely moving from his laptop.
Five minutes.
Six minutes.
Seven minutes.
I watch the seconds tick by, counting each one and controlling my breathing as I wait.
“It’s been eight minutes since she entered the parking lot,” Evan says exactly sixty seconds later. “I’d say worst case, Starling has thirty-seven minutes left until she’s fully conscious again. Send the text, let’s get things moving.”
My brother looks almost as anxious as I feel, and I’m reminded once again that she’s his sister and how real this bond they’ve forged in the last few months actually is. He’s always cared about her; all of my brothers have, but for Evan it’s more. She’s his little sister, and if something goes wrong, I don’t think he’ll ever get over it.
“Sent,” Clay says, turning his laptop toward me so I can see the message we all agreed on earlier.
Tom : We need to meet to talk about this. The Lockwoods are acting weird, so we need to go somewhere neither of us is associated with. I’ve dropped you a pin for a warehouse I saw to rent. It’s a thirty-minute drive from Kingsacre.
Clay minimizes the messaging app, and the camera footage of Courtney reading the text fills the laptop screen. As we watch, she rolls her eyes in annoyance, visibly huffs, then starts to type something on her cell. Her reply comes through a few seconds later.
Courtney : They don’t know anything, but if they do, try and get some more footage so we have more leverage.
