Page 20 of Stolen Goods
Yes! Yes, he did!She clenched her fists, jolting her wayward thoughts back in line.He kidnapped me! Of course he should sleep on the floor.
Only…had he kidnapped her? Really? Because, at the time, it had sort of seemed like he’d saved her life. From the gunshots, and the hitmen, and wasn’t there a knife? He’d seemed more like her personal knight in shining armor than a dangerous criminal, the way he’d carried her to safety. In the car, she was sure he’d said he was sorry and that he hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. That he was only trying to—
No. Stop it.
This is not the start of a love story. I repeat—this is not another chapter in my favorite romance novel. This is a real-life horror story, and I need to get out!
Addy needed to run, as fast and as far as her ballet flats could take her. But—she glanced around the room, frowning when all she saw was a circular tube leaning against the wall behind Thad’s head—she had no money. If her phone was here, it was probably in his back pocket, and she had the uncanny sense that if her hand ventured into such precarious territory, she might never get it back. Also, there was the small, minute detail that she had no idea where the heck she was, or how to get home, or if there were more men with bullets waiting around the corner.Why don’t I watch more action movies? I do not have enough experience with this!
Anytime she dared venture outside of her small town, it was with a GPS firmly in hand. The most physical activity she’d gotten in the past five years was hefting cakes around the kitchen. She didn’t know very much about fighting—or flighting, for that matter. And until last night, she never thought she’d need to know how. Though really, who did?
Addy’s mind flashed back to the way Thad had rolled across the kitchen, fluid as a jungle cat, dodging bullets as he pulled her to safety. The way he’d moved, no hesitation, no questions. All confidence. All conviction. He kept his eye on the prize—and for a moment, cradled in his arms beneath the vast starlit sky, she’d thought for once the prize might have been her.
Okay, brain—shut up!
She needed to focus on the task at hand—escaping. She was a damsel. She was in distress. There was only one thing she could think to do—call her mother.
Addy darted her gaze around the room, breathing a sigh of relief when she spotted a phone on the nightstand at the other side of the bed. Corded, which wasn’t ideal, but maybe she could snake the wires into the bathroom? Yeah, that should work.
She rolled across the bed, cringing every time the mattress squeaked, and let herself fall over the edge to land quietly on her toes. Addy froze, waiting for Thad to wake. But he was breathing deeply, still stretched out across the floor.
Maybe I’m better at this than I thought, she mused and turned on her heels, still crouched low to use the bed as cover. As silently as she could, Addy reached for the phone and lifted it from the nightstand, then stood and—
The wire snapped against the wall.
Addy froze, biting her lips sealed as her gaze whipped across the room. He was still asleep, chest rising and falling in long, even waves. She inspected the wire connected to the phone jack, grumbling under her breath when she noticed the zip tie behind the bed securing the excess cable in a tightly wound knot.
Drats.
Okay. Okay. This is okay. Plan B.
Addy put the phone back on the nightstand and eyed the tightly coiled cord connecting the handset to the machine instead. It wasn’t incredibly long, but it was stretchy, and the bathroom was only a few feet away.
She had to try.
Addy dialed the number for the place she still and would probably always think of as home, a southern house with a wide, welcoming porch and a cherry-red front door. But it wasn’t the place, it was the people. As she crawled across the distance to the bathroom, heartbeat exploding with every ring in her ear, Addy tried to imagine her mother’s cozy embrace and her father’s firm voice as he whispered everything would be okay.
They picked up on the fourth ring.
“Mom?” Addy hastily whispered before anyone had a chance to properly answer the phone—even her grandmother would understand breaking etiquette at this particular moment in time. She snaked the cord under the door and closed it behind her, theclicklike a sharp bolt of lightning to her ears, hinting a storm was near. “Mom? Are you there?”
“No, it’s me.”
For the first time in her adult life, Addy was enthused to hear her little sister’s voice. “Gracie!”
A heavy sigh came through the line. “How many times do I have to ask you—”
“Lee!” Addy cut in with a wince.Here we go again.“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to sound so annoyed about it.”
“I’m not, I—”
“Do you even understand the implications of a name like Grace? That a woman should be demure and docile. That she should conform to men’s expectations, to society’s preconceived notions of a proper lady. That—”
“I know,Lee,” Addy cut in, forcing the words through clenched teeth as her grip on the phone tightened. She’d heard it all before.Stay calm. You love her. She’s your sister. You need her help.Addy released a slow breath. “Listen, this is important. A man came into—”
“Why doallof your stories always start with a man?”
