“I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this.” She takes measured steps forward, shaking her head like I’ve inconvenienced her. That obnoxiously large diamond twinkles in the fluorescent light as she lifts the hand holding the gun.
My eyes narrow, fragments of the mystery finally piecing together. “It was you.Youkilled Brandon.”
She huffs out a throaty laugh, adding an eye roll. “That stupid boy couldn’t stick to the plan. Listen, I don’t really have time to hash out the details here. I need you to shimmy out that window.” She gestures with the gun. “I’ll be right behind you. I’m watching you.”
“You’ve been waiting a while to say that, haven’t you?”
“What?” She exhales in annoyance.
“I’m watching you. It just sounds like a line you’ve kept in your pocket for a while.” I shrug, trying to gauge whether or not I can distract her long enough to get closer to the door. “I wouldhave gone with the classicno funny business, or evendon’t even think about trying anything stupid.”
She glares at me, like I’m the one who’s lost the plot. But what she doesn’t realize is I’m just using my strengths, i.e., talking crap to get myself out of trouble.
Bonnie pins me with a look of disgust as she reaches forward to yank my purse from my hand.
Dang it.So much for my plan to call Jack when the opportunity arose.
So I cross my arms and pretend I’m unfazed by the unhinged and armed woman glowering at me from a few feet away. My heart pounds in my throat, and all I want to do is run to Jack and tell him that we’ve finally found the missing link. But a crazy lady is using a gun as a marshalling wand, and she’s already proven she’s lacking in the empathy department.
“You can cut the crap, Willow. It’s not gonna work on me,” she says, walking to the thankfully low window. “Climb.”
“Where are we going?” I ask innocently.
“To Disneyland,” she deadpans before rolling her eyes, and I purse my lips because that’s my move. “Does it matter? You have a gun pointed at you.”
“We could have been friends, you know, but you’ve ruined it now,” I grumble, pushing the wrought iron window open. This thing can’t be up to code. I’ll need a tetanus shot if I survive.
“I’m really heartbroken over that,” she says from right behind me, gripping my wrist before I can even consider making a run for it down the empty alley. She loops her arm through mine, using the other hand to keep her pistol jabbed into my side as she ushers me toward the lodge. I stifle the sob that wants to escape when she bumps my stitches, sending a blinding pain to the tip of my fingers. I refuse to let her see any weakness.
The walk to the lodge goes quicker than I would have liked.I try to signal to the front desk concierge with my wide eyes that I’m a hostage and have a gun pointed at me. I’ve never loathed having a resting happy face until now, but my naturally sunny disposition has betrayed me, because all the concierge does is scrunch her face in a smile as if Bonnie and I are just two cute besties out shopping for friendship bracelets.
Bonnie leads me to my room, opening my purse to pull out the keycard for the door. There’s a growing panic in her movements, telling me maybe her plan isn’t as thought out as she’d hoped. Things have clearly gone off the rails, and she’s had to make too many adjustments.
I’m shoved into my room before she locks the deadbolt, then she turns her eyes to me for a second before her gaze bounces all over the room.
“Where is it?” she demands.
“Where iswhat?” I frown. I sure hope she doesn’t think I have that stupid Clovis spearhead thing, because otherwise she’s about to be very sorely disappointed.
“Thebag!”
“Marigold?”
Her face falls flat, a look of pity festering in her eyes. “You named the bag?” She lets out a raw, smoke-hardened chuckle, the haggard sweep of her hair and the bags under her eyes confirming her unraveled plans.
And as any hostage movie will teach you, the more panicked the abductor, the more volatile their actions, increasing the risk of injury or death. But I won’t be taken out now, not after everything else I’ve endured over the past four days.
There’s also the fact thatif anything happens to me, Jack will blame himself and never let anyone close to him ever again. And while he may not be ready to hand his heart over to me, I have hope that someday in the future, he’ll feel brave enough to let someone in.
So even though I’m legitimately freaking out inside and have a healthy concern for my own safety and aliveness, if, God forbid, anything happens to me, any hope of Jack having a happy life will be crushed.
I have to warn him.
Soon.
There’s a deranged shiftiness in Bonnie’s eyes. She’s not going to want to drag this out, especially once she finds out I don’t have what she’s looking for.
“I’ll get the bag for you, but just listen to me for one minute, okay,” I breathe, pushing the hair out of my face. “Jack will send out a search party if I’m not at that table in two minutes. Let me text him.”
