Page 72 of One Filthy Kiss

“You think he’s going to try though, don’t you?”

“We’re not taking any chances, Meg.”

“Okay, so are we allowed to look around or are we going to be trapped inside the cabin?”

I mean, there are worse places to be imprisoned, but Amber is a five-year-old with extreme levels of energy. If we’d stayed in London, we’d still be living our lives as if her father didn’t exist. I’d be working in the cake shop. Amber would be going to school.

And I would never have met Gio.

“The boss wants you to enjoy the resort, but we can’t let you go anywhere without a team of bodyguards. You understand.” It isn’t a question.

“What will happen if he finds us?”

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but forewarned is forearmed, or so they say. I’d be happier if I was oblivious to what was going on, but Amber’s life would still be in jeopardy, and I would never forgive myself if I didn’t do everything in my power to keep her safe.

“We’re going to set you up with a panic button. Keep it with you, even when you’re in the shower. If you see anything remotely out of the ordinary, you press it, and we’ll get you out of the situation before you can blink.”

Deep breath. My pulse is never going to stop racing.

“Where are you staying?” I felt safe with Gio in his New York apartment, but now I feel more exposed than ever.

“In the cabin with you and Amber. He won’t get in.” At least he doesn’t add “I promise”.

“And if he does?” I meet Ric’s gaze. “Just trying to cover all bases so that I understand the process.”

“You hit the panic button.”

I peer behind me at the open door of the cabin. “Is there another way out?”

He hesitates. “There’s a hatch in the floor of the guest bedroom. It will take you to a secret bunker. If—and it shouldn’t come to this, Meg—butifhe finds the cabin, you take Amber to the bunker and you wait there till we come for you. Don’t be a hero and climb out of a window. There’s nowhere for you to hide out here.”

I’d been holding it in, the fear, but now my knees feel like they’re going to give way and leave me in a sloppy quivering mess on the path outside the cabin.

How has it come to this, hiding in a bunker? This kind of thing only happens in the movies, in thrillers where you know the heroine is going to have to kill the monster if she wants to escape. It doesn’t happen to ordinary people.

“How will I know it’s you if I’m stuck inside a bunker?” I have visions of heaving open a heavy metal door tofind Amber’s father grinning at us with his dead eyes and his wonky front teeth.

“We’ll agree on a password.” Ric sighs. “It’s a last resort, Meg. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The promise is missing again, and that’s what I remember when I head back inside the cabin with Amber.

16

GIOVANNI

I watchMeggie on the cabin’s CCTV camera, heading back inside with Amber. She’s smiling to hide what’s going on behind her eyes, but I sense the fear in the tightness around her mouth, the angle of her neck as she ushers Amber through to the kitchen, while her eyes are darting around the cabin.

My instinct is to reach out and touch her lips, to smooth her hair away from her face, and pull her against my chest. But if I touch the monitor, it will be cold and solid. Not warm and soft like Meggie.

I sit back in my seat in my office and down my shot of brandy. It doesn’t touch the sides.

I was so close. So close to ending this, to giving them their lives back. My girls.

Meggie and Amber.

It doesn’t sit right with me. The plan was watertight. He was caught on CCTV entering the airport terminal. Heapproached the check-in desks, mingled with a crowd of passengers, three generations of the same family with mountains of luggage and odd-shaped parcels wrapped in brown paper, and then disappeared.

We proceeded with the plan—I hadn’t listened to Meggie’s panicked sobs over the radio to then abandon it at the first hurdle. The airport-wide announcement was made:Will Megan Walsh please proceed to security on the lower level of the main terminal. Demi had already boarded the private jet. I had eyes everywhere. But he was a no-show.