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Shaking, Bryan looks up at the man. “What’s going on? Why is she tied up?” He sets down his briefcase and walks toward me. His fingers go to the knots on the back of the ropes, but the men must have little faith in his abilities because no one stops him.
“We’re looking for a necklace. Jewels really.”
“Patrick’s necklace?” Bryan says to me, his brows narrowed. “What do they want with that?”
“Apparently, I’ve stolen everything, and these boys just came out of the Mystery Machine to solve the case.” I chuckle under my breath. “They were just about to feed the dog some snacks and search for clues.”
“Alright then. Let’s get on with it. You’re big on heritage, princess.” Mr. Britain clears his throat and looks down at me. “That necklace and those jewels are family heirlooms. They’ve been passed down for centuries and they’re of immeasurable value.”
I cock my head to the side. “So, I suppose you’ll tell me next you’re part Russian?”
He nods. “On my father’s side. My mother was from England.”
In a singsong voice, I say, “Is that why you don’t sound like all the other British boys? Your mom and dad couldn’t figure out what language to teach you, so… they settled for neither.”
Bryan elbows me in the rib as though he’s not accustomed to the language I’ve set up with my captors.
“Finally,” Mr. Britain says, looking toward Bryan, “a man who recognizes how to treat someone holding a gun.Smart.” He glances toward me. “You should take note here from your pussy boyfriend.Fiancé… sorry.”
Bryan doesn’t let the comment phase him. Instead, he reaches for his wallet like we’re at the register at Target. “How much is the necklace worth?”
The man laughs. “Twenty-six million, give or take a penny. But that’s not the point, Bryan. It’s the sentiment. I thought you were smarter than that.”
It’s funny thinking about this big, giant man having sentimental value over anything, but I try not to judge.
Just kidding.
Judging is like my favorite thing to do. I could sit in a Walmart parking lot and judge people all day long. I wouldn’t get sick of it either. I’d just take my ass inside, order some chicken wings, and plunk back down in the parking lot again to watch.Watch and judge.You can sit up on your high horse and pretend it’s something awful, but it’s not. We all do it. We judge the people on the internet for wearing too much makeup. We judge those moms who leave their kids in the backseat of their hot cars. We judge people for walking their dogs on hot pavement. It’s a pastime, part of the human experience, and I wear the badge proudly.
Bryan, however, does not. Which is why I never told him any of this to begin with. For one, we never talked to Patrick. So, the fact that he was doing stupid shit wasn’t worthy of a conversation. Second, I didn’t think any of this involved me… until now. Bryan tucks his wallet back into his pocket and stares up at the man. “I don’t have that kind of money. How can we stop this?” There’s a shake in his voice when he talks, his hand on mine in comfort. Sure, he’s not the romance novel beefcake in my fantasies, and I’m pretty sure he couldn’t fight off a cockroach from stealing his Cheeto, but I love this man and all that he is.
“Well,” Mr. Britain says with sarcasm, “yourfiancéis coming with us. When you find the necklace… you can have her back.”
Bryan stands and anchors himself between the Brit, Dex, and I. From my angle on the ground, though, I can see his knees are about to buckle. “You’re not taking her anywhere. We can figure this out like civilized adults.”
Mr. Britain laughs, dark and maniacally, like he gets off on being an asshole. He pushes past Bryan and lifts me from the ground like I’m a barrel of vodka and he is one hundred and sixty percent Russian. The ropes tug at my skin. I should hate it. He’s a beast and I’m his unwilling captor.
I know now that I’ve definitely read too many books. Or at the very least, I haven’t allowed myself the proper exposure to new experiences, because my clit is throbbing.
The man could be murdering me! He could be carrying me off to tie me to a brick and sink me to the bottom of the ocean. Though, by the look in his eyes, I’d guess that wasn’t the case. There’s something about him, something sensible. An energy that I can’t define.
I laugh at myself as I hang over his shoulder.Did I really just define him as sensible?
While I’m out in La-La land, Bryan grabs a lamp on the end table and hits Dex square in the jaw. Dex barely flinches. He’s big too. I’d guess six foot three, and let’s just say, he’s never missed arm day. He’s also younger than the man whose shoulder I’m flung over. I’d say my age, give or take a year or two.
“You done?” Dex stares toward Bryan like he’s smacked him with a rolled newspaper, not a solid metal lamp.
Bryan looks toward me, his eyes drained and red, widened. He’s panicking. He gets this look a lot. When we’re in line at the grocery store and he can’t find his credit card. When we get a past due notice on a bill, he knows he paid. When he gets overwhelmed with tasks at work. His intentions are good, and I love him for it, but the man wasn’t set up for a kidnapping.
The Brit slinks me off his shoulder and tucks me into his arms, bridal style where I beat on his chest obsessively. I hate it…sort of.“How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t have your necklace, or your jewels, or whatever you want. I don’t have it!”
The man looks down at me and growls. “Oh… you have something I want.” He’s quiet for a moment afterward, and I wonder what he really means. “You have a brother in Montana, right?”
My pulse races against my throat. Jack and I are as close as siblings can get without it being weird. “What does he have to do with this?”
Mr. Britain shrugs. “Guess we’re going to find out.” He glares at Bryan. “You have until Friday to figure this out for me or we’re going to have trouble. Do you understand?”
“Put her down! We’ll talk this out. We can call Jack together.”
