Where he got the nerve to try to hire the firm is beyond me. The details of the negotiations and deals made after I was rescued are all secret, even to me, bound by an ironclad non-disclosure agreement. Mom never got arrested or served time. Somebody else did, though—some low-level thug who apparently wanted to ransom me to turn his life around. I protested, but the cops didn’t buy my story. My cousin, who saw the kidnapping, was in Switzerland to attend boarding school, and Grandmother didn’t allow any law enforcement agents near my twin brothers, claiming the experience was too traumatic for them to recount.
But Dad’s divorce went through, and he got everything he wanted. Mom stayed away all these years, despite my doubts. She was convinced she loved us, was ready to do anything to make the family whole. It was in her eyes. How could she suppress such an overzealous belief so easily?
“Doors? Hallways? For you, maybe. Not for me. There are guards outside the room next to this one.” The woman’s matter-of-fact statements pull me back to the present.
“Guards? Are you a criminal? Somebody who needs to be kept under watch for the safety of others?” Wouldn’t surprise me a bit. Crazy hot chicks are the worst. I’ve seen Mom’s photos when she was in her twenties. She was stunning, and look how she turned out.
The blonde blinks, then laughs softly. “I wish. That sounds so much more glamorous than being locked up for money.”
Reluctant concern stirs, and suddenly I feel like a dick for being so cynical. She must’ve been desperate to cross over the way she did. And I know what that’s like. “Are you in trouble?” My voice is gentler.
“Not if I can make my escape before my aunt or cousin come back.” She looks up at me. “If anybody asks, you didn’t see me.”
“What are you going to do?”
Her smile grows sunny, but it’s the sunniness of a woman who knows she has to rescue herself because nobody else will help. “If I try to go out through your door, the guards will notice. So I’m going to get to one of several doors down first.”
I direct my thumb behind me at the other balconies. “That way?”
She nods solemnly. “That’s the only way.”
Just to be sure, I look down. As I suspected. No net. No cushion to catch her if she slips. “Are you out of your mind?”
“I’ve thought it through. If I die, nobody gets my money, so I win.”
What the fuck?“Try 911.”
“Won’t work. Do you think this is my first time?” She sighs.
An inexplicable ache tightens around my heart. Her predicament vaguely reminds me of being tied up in the cabin by Mom. Just because her family is keeping her in a nicer jail doesn’t mean she’s free.
“Kind of a Pyrrhic victory.” I hope she’ll listen. She might be stronger and more agile than she looks, but one mistake and she’s done. I don’t want that on my conscience.
“But still a victory.” She shrugs, her eyes surprisingly devoid of insanity, even if the words rolling out of her mouth are anything but sane. “Scorched earth.”
“No.”
She pulls back. The retreat might as well have plunged me into a vat of icy water. I clench my hands to avoid reaching out for her, unsure why I’m feeling this way. Nothing makes my skin crawl like people touching me, especially women. When they get clingy, wrapping themselves around me in what they undoubtedly believe is a sexy, affectionate way to keep me tied to them, I want to retch. It reminds me of the way I was bound, constricted and helpless. But with this one, I want her to hold on to me. The feeling is unnerving.
“Don’t tell me you’re sending me back to my aunt. I’m not marrying my cousin, even if he is technically a step-cousin. They just want to use me for my money,” the woman says, raising her arms in a defensive gesture. For some reason, it irritates me.
“Of course not.”
Slowly crossing her arms, she looks at me up and down. “I don’t think you’re strong enough to carry me over there.” She jerks her pointy chin in the direction of the balcony on the other side.
“Even if I were, I’m not reckless enough.” I shudder inwardly. “I actually value our lives.”
Her mouth forms a small O of surprise. “Why would you care?”
“Because I’m a well-adjusted human being? Anybody would.”
“No, they wouldn’t,” she murmurs softly, but I shake my head. She must have super-shitty relatives to feel this way.
“I’m strong enough to carry you out of here if that’s what you want,” I add before she proposes something insane and inane to escape her aunt and cousin. If anything happens to her, I’ll get tangled up with law enforcement as a witness, and I need to be back in L.A. tomorrow. At least, that’s what I tell myself as I scrutinize her. “Get all the flowers and crap out of your hair,” Isay as I drag her inside, so she won’t even think about climbing over more gargoyles.
“Okay.” She yanks them out of her hair, which falls in long waves down her back. “Now what?”
I pause, taking her in. Untamed tendrils frame her face, her cheeks rosy from her earlier exertion. The white gown sports gray smudges from the stone carvings outside. The slightly disheveled appearance looks so much like little Queen. She never told me her name before disappearing. If only I knew it. Perhaps then it’d be easier to locate her.
