Rico stands from the bed and paces to a set of drawers on his right. After pulling out a plain black phone, he moves to stand in front of me. The torment in his eyes is even more compelling than it was earlier.
“Call Lacey and ask her to back off.”
My eyes dart between his, my confusion growing by the second. “Why can’t I use my phone?”
“Lacey has already called in the authorities. There's a team of detectives stationed at your apartment. They will be tracing the call.”
My heart slithers into my gut. “So I have to make my call quick? Like they do in the movies?”
Rico smiles. It doesn’t match the despair in his dark gaze.“No, Kitten. That's nothing but a Hollywood ploy. Maybe back in the eighties they took sixty seconds to trace a call, but with technology today, it can be done instantaneously. Lucky for us, the compound has numerous signal jammers installed, but for extra caution, I’d prefer that you use a dump phone. They’ll have a hard time tracking it when it’s buried under a pile of rubble.”
Ignoring the tremble of my hands, I stand from the bed and accept the cell phone he's holding out. Thankfully, even in a day of modern technology, I have a knack for remembering phone numbers.
After dialing Lacey’s cell into the outdated phone, I press it in close to my ear. She answers not even a full ring later.
“Hello?” The concern in her tone makes her greeting come out sounding more like a question than a greeting.
I exhale a deep breath. “Lac—”
“Blaire! Oh my God. Are you okay? Where are you? Are you safe?” she blubbers out in quick succession.
“Lacey, calm down. I need you to listen. I don’t have long.” I shift my eyes to Rico who is watching me with caution from the side of the room. “Did you call the police?”
“Yes, of course I did! Colt said you were dragged out of here by a man claiming to be your husband.” She stops talking and inhales a large breath of air. She’s obviously rattled as I can hear the shaking of her ribcage through the phone. “He also said two of the men flanking you were carrying guns.”
The truth of Rico’s statement rings true when Lacey’s confession causes a flurry of activity to sound down the line. The most obvious evidence is the inclusion of two male voices I don’t recognize.
“Blaire, are you there?” Lacey asks when a stretch of silence passes between us.
“Yes, I am here,” I breathe out.
My heart is a twisted mess of confusion. Half of me hates that Lacey is upset, where the other half wants to do everything in my power to protect Rico from the authorities. Don't ask me why; I wouldn't be able to answer. If I'd been held captive for longer than twenty-four hours, I could have used the defense of Stockholm Syndrome, but deep down in my soul, I know that isn't the case. I'm truly not scared of Rico. Startled, yes. Scared, definitely not.
“What’s going on, Blaire. Was it your husband?” Lacey asks, drawing my attention back to the present.
“Yes,” I mutter faintly.
Lacey gasps in a ragged breath, clearly shocked by my reply. “I thought your marriage was annulled?”
“I thought it was too.” I grimace. “But the papers were never filed. We’re still legally married.”
“So you thought you’d just up and leave with him on a whim? Your Vegas experience was as cookie cutter as they come for Vegas, but that craziness is supposed to stop the instant you step foot in the plane.” Her words come out in a flurry, her tone a mixture of anger and bewilderment. “You don’t continue with the idiocy once you return home.”
Pain strikes my heart when her quiet sniffles resonate down the line.
“This isn’t you, Care Blaire. You’ve always been the safe, smart friend. You wouldn’t have just packed up and left of your own free will. He’s hurting you, isn’t he? Holding you against your will?”
I shake my head, soundlessly denying her accusation. My brisk movements cause tears to trickle down my ashen cheeks. Spotting my upset composure, Rico pushes off his feet and ambles towards me. The concern beaming from his eyes adds to the restrictive hold strangling my heart.
“Is he threatening you? Are you in danger?” Lacey asks through a barrage of hiccups.
“No, Lacey, he'd never hurt me.”
My confession clears away the painful haze in Rico’s dark gaze. He stands behind me and slings his arms around my torso. The heat of his body eases my shuddering shakes.
“Lacey, I'm begging you, please drop this.”
“I can’t.” Her heartache is unable to be hidden by those two little words. “You’re my best friend, Blaire. I won’t sit back and watch you make a stupid mistake you can’t take back.”
