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“She fucking has fucked half of Manhattan,” I cut in. “And that’s an underestimate.”
Dacre scoffs. “Whatever. Her sexual exploits don’t matter. What does matter is getting through this next ten days until we get our hands on the ransom. Sit down, the pair of you. I’m going to tell you how we can fuck over both the cunts who destroyed us.”
“Which cunts are we talking about now?” Mercier says, “because that could be just about anyone I’ve ever met.”
“I’m not talking about some bitch who did us over or professor Cockwomble who failed you twice because you decided fucking his wife was more important than revising,” Dacre spits out.
“Totally worth it.”
Dacre rolls his eyes. I’m beginning to get frustrated at how this conversation is going. Dacre told me hours ago he knew how to solve all our problems, but until now he’s yet to enlighten me.
“Dacre Senior and Waldgrave,” I spit out. “Now shut the fuck up and let’s hear it.”
While Dacre runs though his plan, which is nothing short of insane and right up Mercier’s street, my thoughts return to what Mercier said earlier. There is no way on this earth that Sin is a virgin. It’s not possible. She’s well known for putting out. It’s almost impossible to pick up a salacious gossip rag these days without tales of her fucking some famous actor in the back of a limo, or on a private jet, or pretty much anywhere with anyone. I’ve spent years trying to ignore the articles, but they are like a disease, popping up everywhere. She’s no virgin. She’s a fucking whore. Case in point. Mercier has spent two days with her and she’s already given him full access to her pussy. I’m not even shocked. Hell, I should be surprised she hasn’t fucked Dacre and the bell boy already too.
Fucking whore.
“What do you think?” Dacre asks, taking me out of my own mind.
I stand and pull out a pack of cigarettes, which Dacre’s eyes are immediately drawn to.
I was barely listening, but I can’t tell him that. “It’s fucking insane. We’ll most likely end up buried under a bush somewhere with Waldgrave and your dad dancing a jig on our graves, but in the absence of any sane option, let’s just fucking get it over and done with.”
“What about you?” I hear him ask Mercier as I slide open the French doors to the terrace. I close them before I hear Mercier’s answer. I don’t need to. It’s a fucking insane plan. Of course he’s in.
22
LUCINDA
My heart pounds the entire evening and my body cannot relax no matter what I try. Pressing my thumb to my palm isn’t doing anything and I know that if any one of them comes into my room to check up on me, I’ll probably mess up my plan by panicking so much it’s obvious. Josh is here. I can hear him talking to the others. I can’t hear what they are saying, but I don’t need to. I’m not safe here. Either they’ll try to collect the ransom which I know my father has no intention of paying for me, or they’ll attempt to carry on the kidnapping charade and aim for the thirty million. If they do, they are more stupid than they act. My father wouldn’t pay thirty cents for me. Not when he has other, more important things to spend his money on. When it all goes quiet, I wait for an hour, then put my plan into action. The three of them have made a vital error. They’ve taken my blindness as weakness and, because of that, they’ve underestimated me. There’s a window in the room. I know because I’ve checked the room from top to bottom. I also know that it’s unlocked. I didn’t think they would be stupid enough to leave it unlocked, but it seems they have. If I’m going to make my escape, it’s now or never. I feel along the wall until my fingers hit the frame of the window. I feel around until my fingers hit the catch. It takes me a couple of attempts, but I figure out how to pull it back. The window opens easily and the sound of traffic increases suddenly. My heart pounds with the sudden onslaught of sounds and the dirty smelling air that hits me. It’s nighttime. I thought it would be quieter than this. New York, the town that never sleeps, is living up to its name. As long as Mercier, Dacre, and Josh are asleep, I don’t care about the rest of Manhattan.
Terror grips me as I slide my legs out through the window, planting my ass on the sill. I’m not on the ground floor. The sound of the traffic is way below me and the elevator ride up here took a while. If I jump, I’ll fall to my death. Gripping onto the frame, I gingerly lower my foot, hoping for a balcony or fire escape.
The night is much warmer than the night I got here, but still, the slight breeze has my nerves on edge and reminds me I don’t know where I am. I haven’t got the first clue what I’ll do if, by some miracle, I do manage to escape without falling to my death first. I can imagine the headlines now. Kidnapped heiress falls to her death on Manhattan sidewalk. My foot connects with something hard. Something for me to stand on. I drop down fully from the windowsill and edge my way forward, making sure I’ve not inadvertently ended up on a narrow ledge. When my hands touch the railing, I know I’m on a fire escape. Somewhere below me a car horn sounds, making me jump. My nerves are so raw that every little sound has me shaking. I feel around the fire escape for stairs. It’s so much bigger than I imagined it would be, with a table and chairs taking up most of the space. It’s not really a fire escape at all, but a balcony. Fear that I’ll not find a way down bites at me, but eventually I find a set of steps that lead downward. I take the first ones slowly, terrified that they will just end, but once I feel more confident, I run down them two at a time, gripping the railing as I go.
The thought of the three men finding me gone spurs me on, but with every step, I’m forced to consider what I’ll do when I reach the ground. I can’t go to the police. Everyone knows my face, even with Mercier’s make over. I’m not wearing any make up now, and though I do have the brown contacts in, it won’t be enough to make me unrecognizable. At least not for long. If the police find me, I may as well just hand myself back to my father or stay here at the mercy of Josh and his friends. I can barely breathe as all the options swirl around in my head. Each one, more horrific than the last. There is one more option. It’s terrifying, but it’s the option I’m going to take. I’m going to hide out for a while on the streets. Manhattan is home to plenty of homeless people. None of them will know who I am. Maybe they’ll take pity on me. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life living in a dumpster relying on people who can barely keep themselves alive to help me, but I will get stronger. I will learn to be independent. I’ve spent my life, dependent on another person. It’s about time I buckled up and learned to do things by myself. Then when I’m strong and the heat has died down, I’ll go and find what I’m looking for. My freedom.
I tell myself this as my feet leave the metal of the fire escape and hit concrete. A thousand smells accost my senses. The smell of warm food makes my stomach growl, but soon it fades and all I can smell is a nasty acrid smoky smell underlined with the faint tang of urine. I stand there paralyzed. It’s so noisy. Cars seem to be everywhere, revving their engines, honking their horns. My chest constricts and I can’t breathe with it all. I wonder if I’ve a mistake after all. Upstairs, I was warm, and I was being fed. Then I remember Josh’s anger, Dacre’s contempt and Mercier. I’m still devastated at how much my body reacted to what he did to me. To how much I liked it. Both times. I can’t let him have any control over me. Not anymore. Down here I’m free and the master of my own destiny. I follow the brick wall of the building, trailing my fingers along the rough exterior. I think I’ve come down at the back of the building because the car noise is coming from somewhere in front. I need to keep to the back streets and alleys, but not this one. I’m way too close if they decide to come and look for me... which they will. I’m a once in a lifetime paycheck to them. Once I’m far enough away, I’ll find a quieter spot. It sounds so easy when I say it in my head, but the panic is creeping in, threatening to turn into a full blown panic attack. I can’t make head nor tail of all the sounds and already I’m confused. Someone crashes into me, sending my fingers away from the wall, untethering me. I’m spun round as someone else bashes into me, sending me spiraling. I’m blind, not invisible, but it seems that no one can see me as I’m pushed and shoved from one place to another. The cars are getting louder and the confusing noises and smells are all spinning round in my brain.
I finally find a wall and lean against it, gripping it with my palms as my heart pounds in my chest
Breathe, Goddamn it!
I want to press my thumb into my palm. I need the small pressure to tell me that I’m going to be alright, but I can’t seem to pull my hands away from the wall. It’s the only thing keeping me from floating away. My senses are overloaded and I need to ground myself to stop from melting down completely.
Someone else barges past, knocking one hand from the wall. I can’t stay here, but I’ve already forgotten the way back. I’ve been pushed around by people on the sidewalk so much that I’ve lost all sense of direction. I’m completely lost and absolutely petrified.
“Help me,” I sob out. I don’t even care if the three men find me anymore. I don’t even care if they throw me back to my father. Anything is better than this.
“Help!” I cry out again, but it’s as if no one hears my cries for help. I rush forward in a panic. My heart nearly combusts as car horns blare out and tires screech. I’ve stepped out into the road in my panic. Terror roils through me, but I keep running. Maybe getting hit by a car will be the answer to my prayers. Better dead than this living nightmare.
Then it’s over. The cars have stopped blaring. Someone shouts out, asking if I’m okay, but it’s clear I’m not. I keep running. I’ve only gone a few feet before I crash into a low wall. In my desperation to be away from all the madness, I climb over it. On the other side, my feet hit soft ground. Grass. I keep running until the sound of cars and people are left behind.
23
DACRE
Lucinda is gone. I curse my stupidity as I gape at the open window. I had one job. Nix and Mercier left the apartment early in the morning to head back up to Uni. I stayed to watch her. Except I didn’t watch her. I assumed she was in her room and would venture out when she was hungry. Anger pulls at my cheek as I work out what to do next. Stupid bitch will probably have gotten herself killed by now. While that will solve any immediate problems, our long-term plans count on the money she’s worth.
