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Why here?
I couldn’t understand it. They could’ve shipped her off somewhere. They could’ve held her at ransom somewhere inaccessible. But here? Unless they’d dumped the phone and taken her somewhere else. The most likely option.
My jaw clenched at the thought.
I already had the cops on the way to handle this. Or rather, Emmy had decided it for me. I’d given them the location, but I’d set off ahead before they’d even called it in. Emilia would be furious, but this was serious. I needed Summer safe.
God alone knew what Cruz would do to her.
Breathe.
Handle this one step at a time.
I moved between the trees, silent as a shadow, keeping my breathing even and my focus on getting Summer back before it was too late. There wasn’t a fucking chance I’d hand over anything to Cruz. Even if I did, there was no guarantee I’d get Summer back.
Negotiating was out of the question.
I came to a halt at the back of the shed. The lights were out inside it, and I didn’t have a point of entry. I approached nevertheless.
A squeal sounded around the front of the shack—a woman’s voice. It galvanized me to action. I sprinted around the side and toward the source of the scream but came to a halt right in front of…
Pamela, the redhead, flat on her back, with Summer straddling her, knees pinning the other woman’s arms to her sides.
“What the fuck?”
“Hi,” Summer said. “Nice to see you again. Mind giving me a hand?”
“Summer,” I managed. “Summer, Jesus.”
“Just Summer’s fine, thanks. Now, would you mind helping me detain this psycho? I’m assuming the cops are on their way?”
“Yeah.” Confusion and relief mixed in equal parts, and the overwhelming emotion to bring her into my arms and hold her close took over. I held out a hand. “Come here.”
“I’m kind of occupied at the moment if you haven’t noticed,” she said.
“Bitch!” Pamela shrieked. “You’re going to pay for this. You have no idea who I am.”
“Yeah, yeah, Penelope Cruz.” Summer made a talking hand and rolled her eyes.
“Penelope Cruz? The actress?”
“No, this chick. Her name is Penelope. Apparently, she’s the daughter of your greatest competitor?”
The conversation unseated my concentration. Summer was so calm. I’d expected to find her guarded by gunmen or hurt or worse. And here she was, totally in control of the situation with her captor pinned underneath her. How the hell had this happened?
God, she’s amazing.
“Your father sent you,” I said, directing my attention to Pamela. “How did you get so close to my sister?”
“Like I would tell you,” Pamela spat.
“Do you want me to get the shears?” Summer asked her. “I’ll make good on the promise you made me earlier.”
Pamela whimpered. What was that about?
“How did you get close to Emmy?” Summer asked, lifting the woman by the shoulders and shaking her. “Tell us, you piece of shit.”
“Uh, Summer? You might want to ease up there.”
“She just tied me up in a shed, Matt. I think I’m doing just fine, thank you.”
“Duly noted.” But I still wanted to pull her off the woman and hold her to my chest. Dangerous. Why? She was important, of course, but she wasn’t…we weren’t…
“I just started going to her yoga classes,” Pamela said. “We became friends six months ago. We hang out like every week. It was easy.”
“You bitch.” Summer forced her back. “You almost ruined her wedding.”
“Yeah, well, whatever. My dad will work this out. And once he gets ahold of you, he’s going to make you sorry you ever put your hands on me.”
“Yeah, I forgot how you were the victim in all of this,” Summer replied.
The whoop of approaching sirens cut through the chatter. Two minutes later, the cops pulled up and skidded to a halt nearby. Police officers poured out from the cars, and organized chaos ensued. Pamela was arrested, Summer was taken over to an ambulance to check for damage, and I walked over to her, still grinding my teeth.
I shot off a quick message to Paul and told him what had happened.
A reply blipped through a couple seconds later. “Have gotten Interpol involved. We’re on this. Cruz is going down.”
Now, they were on it. Now, after Summer had been in danger, they were on it. It didn’t matter. Things would be fine now, and George Cruz would pay the price for what he’d orchestrated here. Likely, his business would go under or come under new management, after a thorough investigation.
Not that I cared about that shit now.
Summer was fine.
The panic that had built had slowly seeped away. God, fuck, imagining her in danger…it had been like my mother all over again. The fear and then awaiting the confirmation that she was harmed, or worse. Except this time, she hadn’t been.
Christ, she was gorgeous. Independent. Strong. Giving the medics lip about treating her like a child.
