Page 106 of Ardently Yours

No one answers. Instead, I hear the heavy tread of a large man stomping his way down those steps. One. At. A. Time.

Rochelle and I clutch each other, cheek-to-cheek, and watch as first a pair of black shoes and suit pants enter our line of sight. A huge man comes into view. Reese enters the basement, takes one look at us, heaves a breath, and walks over to press Stop on the boom box.

Then he approaches the edge of the open grave, tugs on his pants at the thighs, and crouches beside the hole. “Busy night, ladies?”

As Long as You Love Me

In the kitchen ofan unused groundskeeper’s cottage near the Rosalind Estate, Rochelle and I sit beside each other at the green and white Formica dinette set. Handcuffs secure my left wrist, and her right, to opposite legs of the table. The dirt under my fingernails makes me want to gag, but not nearly as much as the fear does.

Reese walks into the kitchen, puts his flip phone back into his waist holster, and crosses his arms.

Rochelle scowls. “You can’t keep us prisoner. You’re not the police.”

Reese lifts an eyebrow. “Consider it a citizen’s arrest until the proper people can deal with you.”

She huffs. “How long do you expect us to sit here?”

He plants his hands on the table in front of her and leans close. “Are you uncomfortable, Ms. Rhodes? Do you need another potty break? Another glass of water? Another cushion for your ass?”

We’ve been here for less than an hour, so his impatience is, maybe, justified.

“I need a blanket,” she says. “I think I’m going into shock.”

He straightens, takes another of those deep breaths, and removes his black suit coat. Rochelle gasps at the sight of his jacked-up muscles under the white shirt and shoulder holster. Body-builder beefy isn’t my type, but it’s definitely hers.

“Time and place,” I mutter.

“This has been the most horrible day of my entire life, and now this terrible man is going to destroy the lives of two innocent victims of circumstance.” Her chin wobbles, and she bats her eyelashes at him. “And he’s so big and muscle-y and broody-looking. People make air noises when they’re scared, Charlotte.”

He tucks his jacket around her shoulders, and she slumps into her seat and sniffles.

Reese rolls his white shirt sleeves up his tattooed forearms. “You can’t make me pity you into letting you go. And you can’t flirt your way out of it either.”

With the hand not attached to a table leg, Rochelle shoots him the middle finger.

I hear the click of the front door opening, then closing. Then a man’s footsteps sound on the brown asbestos-tile flooring.

There’s no question Reese called Arden, but he’s hours away, no doubt tucked up behind his nice big walls and alarm systems.

Is it the new sheriff? One of the deputies? The state police? I crane to see if there are any cop lights showing through the window.

Arden steps into the room. He spares a glance for Rochelle, then turns his attention my way. A muscle flexes in his jaw.

I clear my throat. “So…about that prison record.”

If I thought my callback to the day he came to meet me at the theater would soften his expression, I was wrong. The look he gives me makes me cold to the roots of my hair.

“Man trouble,” he says slowly.

“Technically,” I say.

He continues to watch me, then he spins one of the empty kitchen chairs on the opposite side of the table and straddles it. I shift, and he glances down at my hands, then back up at my face.

“You’re not going to attack Reese or run away if we take those off, right?”

Rochelle mutters, “Rude.”

“You have my child. If you run away, I’ll trackyoudown,” I say.

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