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“In your office.”
“Are you safe, yes or no?”
“Yes, but—”
“Don’t stop,” he snapped at the driver then came back to me. “We’re headed back to the house, I’m only a few minutes away. I need you to open the bottom right drawer in my main desk.”
I did as he said. “Okay.”
“Take out the false bottom, then open that safe. It’s the same code you use to call out on the landline.”
“Is there anything in your life that isn’t secret and locked up?” I asked, exasperated.
“Can’t afford it. Now—”
“What am I supposed to do with these?” I yelled as I stared at the handguns and extra magazines of rounds.
“Grab one and go to my room. Lock yourself in there.”
I shook my head quickly. “No, this isn’t necessary. You’re overreacting.”
“Bri—”
“I’ve never eve
n touched one of these in my life.”
His voice boomed through the phone. “Briar, don’t you understand what is happening right now?”
“Yes, but I’m not in any danger. It was just on the computer.”
“Computer or not, if you’ve been found we’re all in danger. Take a gun and go lock yourself in my bedroom closet. If anyone is already in the house, shoot them. If someone tries to get in the closet that isn’t me, shoot them. Understand?”
“Yes,” I whispered weakly. I felt nauseous thinking about holding one of the guns in front of me.
“And, Blackbird,” he said, his tone lighter and with a hint of amusement, “keep your finger off the trigger. I don’t feel like getting shot today.”
By the time I finally grabbed the smallest gun in the mini safe and walked out of the office, Lucas was storming into the house with a murderous look on his face.
“What happened?” he demanded as soon as he saw me from across the hall.
“I don’t want this.” I held the gun out toward him with it between two of my fingers.
Lucas gripped the gun in his large hand to take it from me, and passed it to the driver as he came hurrying in behind him. “Stay with her after I’m gone. If anything happens . . .” He let the warning trail off and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Now tell me what happened, Briar.”
My eyes weren’t leaving where his hands were now hidden. I tried to tell myself it was just his fear and anger that had him reacting like this, but the sight of his stance still sent ice through my veins. “Um, I uh . . .” I shook my head and forced myself to look up into the fury in his dark eyes instead. “I was checking e-mails. This guy started messaging me. He knew who I was, and he was saying—well, I left it up there.”
His jaw was clenched so tightly I thought it might shatter. In one quick movement he stepped forward and grabbed the back of my head to press his mouth roughly to mine, and then he was gone.
“This way, Miss Holt,” the driver said once Lucas was gone.
I pointed down to the gun in his hand and asked warily, “Do you know how to use that?”
His face was all business when he responded, “Yes, ma’am. I wouldn’t be Mr. Holt’s driver if I didn’t.”
“Of course not.” I let out a shaky sigh as I followed the driver into Lucas’s room and then into the closet, locking all the doors behind us on the way.
The messages led to a dead end.
