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I can’t believe it. This unhinged lunatic reached the correct conclusion through totally incorrect reasoning. It’s just my luck. Fucking hell.
Angus rambles for a while about how brilliant he is for figuring me out. And then, about what he wants me to say to my rich boyfriend when we call him, shortly, on FaceTime. In conclusion, Angus says, “When you call him, you’re going to convince him there’s no point in denying what he’s done because I’m smarter than him and his fucking hacker and I’ve figured it all out. You got that?”
I nod.
“You’ll tell him to pay up, if he ever wants to see you alive again.”
I nod again, even though my brain has now shifted into rapid-fire problem-solving mode. What’s my survival strategy here? If Angus frees my hand and gives me my phone to make the FaceTime call to Reed, then I’ll somehow get to that distress signal button. That’s a no-brainer. But I think the chances are low he’ll free my hand. More likely, he’ll keep me tied up and use my contacts to call Reed on my phone. If he does that, that’d be a good thing for me, in theory, since my newly turned-on phone will start pinging nearby cell towers. In reality, however, that phone call to Reed will probably get me killed before anyone can find me.
First off, Reed probably won’t even pick up my call, since it’d show up to him as an unknown caller. Yes, I saved Reed’s number when Kat included him in a group chat once. But I can’t fathom why Reed would have saved my number. How many times will Angus let Reed fail to pick up his “girlfriend’s” call before Angus realizes Reed isn’t, in fact, my rich boyfriend, and won’t, in fact, pay to keep me alive? But even if Reed does miraculously answer my call, I’ll be dead, regardless, because Reed’s natural, immediate reaction to the crazy shit Angus has instructed me to say will quickly make Angus realize Reed isn’t, in fact, my rich boyfriend. Shit. There’s no way in hell I’m getting out of this mess alive, is there?
Oh, yes, you are. Calm down and think, Hannah. Think!
Angus stops pacing, pulls out a small phone from his other pocket—one that’s not mine—and resumes his seat across from me again. “I hope for your sake you know Reed’s number by heart,” he says. “Because we can’t turn on your phone to get the number.” He rolls his eyes. “I fucked up in the parking garage and forgot facial recognition doesn’t work on closed eyes. So, I couldn’t get Reed’s number off your phone back there. And then, I realized after we got here, if I turn on your phone now, someone could use the signal to find you.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Now what?
“I’m going to take the tape off your mouth now,” Angus says slowly, like he’s talking to a skittish kitten in a tree. “Don’t scream. No one but me will hear you, if you do. But I don’t want to hear it. If you scream, I’ll punch you even harder than last time. Understand?”
I nod and he removes the tape.
“I don’t know Reed’s latest number by heart,” I blurt. “He changes his number every month for security reasons. But I do know his assistant’s number, so I can call him and—”
“You’re not calling anyone but Reed on FaceTime.”
“If Reed is going to pay you five million bucks for my life, then he’s going to need his assistant to help him get those funds in order. Even rich people don’t have five million bucks in cash sitting around. They have to move things around. Sell stocks and stuff. I guarantee Reed will need to tell his assistant what’s going on to get you that money because his assistant is his right hand in everything he does. Well, since that’s the case, then what’s the harm in me calling his assistant first on FaceTime and calmly asking for Reed’s number? He knows I always forget to save my boyfriend’s latest number. It happens every month. He won’t think anything of it.”
Angus looks like he’s actually considering saying yes to this change of plans. At the very least, he’s not presently punching me in the face, so I forge ahead. “I promise I’ll get you the money and get Reed to call off the hacker, too, if only you’ll let me call Reed’s assistant first. What could go wrong? You’ll be there when I talk to him, watching to make sure I’m not saying something I shouldn’t. I know if I mess up you’ll kill me, so I won’t mess up.”
Angus’s nostrils flare. “I don’t want you telling the assistant what’s going on. You’ll play it off like it’s any other day. Be cheerful. Ask for the number. Hang up.”
