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Pulling out my phone, I text Seth. I’m in the lobby. Let’s get this over with.
I walk over to one of the low chairs and sit while I wait for his response. It doesn’t take long. Give me just a second. I’ll come down and get you.
I’m growing irritated. I don’t understand why he played games the first night, considering we were right on the shoreline. It’s like he walked me further into town just to hide where he was staying. What kind of bullshit are you up to, Seth? I muse. Why would he feel the need to hide his location?
The optimism I discovered only moments ago dims, and my survival instinct rises in my chest. Something feels wrong here. Standing, I’m about to cut out and reschedule, taking Cal up on his offer to escort me here next time, when the elevator door opens, and I see my partner in crime emerge.
He’s dressed in dark jeans and that same long-sleeved navy sweater he had on when we left Monagasco. His eyes dart around the lobby as he looks for me, and I survey his body language. I’ve worked with Seth for years, and when he’s pulling a stunt, his shoulders hunch and his green eyes dart around the perimeter looking for cops. It’s his tell, and he’s doing it right now. I’m on my feet stepping around a palm when his eyes hit mine.
His auburn brow lowers and his jaw sets. “Zee.” His voice is low, and he makes a beeline for me.
That does it. I’m out of here. I do a quick step to the side, keeping as many chairs, sofas, palm trees, and trash cans between him and me as possible as I head for the door.
“Stop,” he hisses, darting to the side, trying to catch me. “What are you doing?”
“You’re not at someone’s house. What is this?”
I’m out of obstacles between us, and I’m going to have to make a break for the door, but he’s on me. His iron grip closes around my upper arm so tight, I wince.
“OW!” I exclaim, and he squeezes me harder.
“Shut up,” h
e snaps, continuing to the door and pushing outside.
Now I’m really panicking. “What are you doing?”
It’s the only thing I’m able to say before a black SUV pulls up beside us and the doors open. I jerk and try to feint right, but it’s too late. Seth shoves me inside, following right behind. The doors are still open when I see a face that shoots ice through my stomach.
Sitting in the passenger’s seat, wearing a navy suit, his greasy, black hair slicked back and his thin mustache twisting is Wade Paxton.
“We meet again, Miss Wilder,” he says, and I immediately start to scream.
“NO!” I thrust away, charging across Seth’s lap for the still-open door.
A tall man, beefy and hairy as a gorilla steps into the empty space. He’s wearing a black suit and a scowl, and with a hand the size of my face, he shoves me backwards as if I were a doll, into the truck. The door slams shut.
“Nice work, Mr. Hines,” Wade Paxton says.
“Let me out,” Seth’s voice is urgent. “This is as far as I agreed to go.”
“Of course,” Paxton says, extending a hand to my ex-partner in crime. “I believe you wanted her card?”
Seth snatches my purse and digs inside, taking the American Express card.
“You fucking liar!” I lunge forward, slapping him as hard as I can.
Seth’s green eyes flash, and he grabs me by the throat, slamming me against the opposite door. The handle jams into my back painfully, and my eyes water as he leans into my face.
“Don’t fuck with me, Zelda Wilder! You’re the liar. There’s twenty thousand on this card. You said it was only ten.”
“You’re a bastard!” I struggle against his chokehold on my neck.
He releases me and starts for the door, but I push off, right behind him. “You’ll regret this!”
“Stop her,” Wade says calmly, and Gorilla Man has my shoulder in his meaty fist, pulling me back.
My survival instinct kicks in. Never go with a kidnapper to a second location.
