The guard gives me his bank info and the transfer is seconds away from being complete. Well, half of it. I’m not a complete fucking idiot.
All I have to do is hit Send.
“Now,” I begin, gripping the phone in my hand. “To ensure your compliance, you get half now and half will be automatically deposited after thirty-six hours. You rat me out like the dirty crook you are and you’re out 75K. Got it?”
“Look. A deal’s a deal. You’re good for thirty-six hours.”
I scoff. “I highly doubt that.”
He pulls out a key and doesn’t hesitate to click the lock on the first cuff, freeing my right hand. I roll my wrist, working out the kinks, and breathe a slight sigh of relief. “And the other?”
“Make the transfer first.”
I could probably manage to fight this guy with one hand. He’d come for his phone; I’d shatter it, then I’d shatter every bone in his face. He’s not that big, just smells really fucking bad. I’m at more of a risk of throwing up than losing a fight to him.
I hit Send and the guard is seventy-five thousand dollars richer.
“Done,” I tell him. “You fuck this up and not only will you lose the second half, I’ll hunt you down and Byron Davis will be the least of your worries.”
He uncuffs my other hand, then my ankles. It takes me a minute to stand up, but once I’m steady on my feet, I hand him his phone. Just as he reaches for it, I grab his head and ram my forehead against his. Stumbling back a few feet, he crashes into the door.
“That’s for the fucking black eye. Thirty-six hours or I’ll thank you for the bloody lip with a broken jaw.”
I snatch the keys from his hand and toss his phone at him.
It takes me three tries to get the right one, but when I do, I leave the room and don’t look back.
I’m not sure if there are other guards, but the place is pretty quiet, and I make no attempt to silence my steps.
As I’m making my way out, I notice a few more doors similar to the one I was behind. The possibility that Bella is behind one of them occurs to me, but it quickly diminishes when I remember that she’s safe in Rhode Island.
I’ve got no idea where I am or how I’m leaving, but somehow, I’ll find a way.
I have to get to Bella. Then I have to kill my fucking attorney.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Byron’s phone died. There was a sliver of battery life left, and my continuous attempts at unlocking the screen must have drained it completely.
No one has come to look for me.
Not Byron, or his men.
I’m curled in a ball beneath the sloping branches of a tree with bare feet, wearing thin fabric. It’s eerily quiet aside from the chatter of my teeth.
The temperatures are frigid, and the snow continues to blanket the tree that I’m using as a fort to hide out.
It’s been two hours. Two long and treacherous hours, and I’m not sure I can make it much longer.
Byron knows I’m here. He has the safety net of my inability to escape, ensuring that I am somewhere on this island. It’s only a matter of time before I’m found, and I’m wondering if I might as well face him before I die of hypothermia or lose any limbs from extreme frostbite.
Shifting my legs, I tuck my feet over them to keep them out of the snow. My fingers rub aggressively at my blue-colored toes, trying to warm them, but I can’t even feel them anymore to know if it’s helping.
My entire body shivers, and I can’t take it any longer.
Leaving Byron’s phone behind, I crawl out from under the tree and stand up. The moon shines brightly over the bay, offering me a source of light as I walk back toward the castle. I have to go inside and hide somewhere warm before I freeze to death.
Only, my plan is derailed when I go to open the main door and notice it’s locked. Hugging my chest tightly, I go around the side and try another door. Then another. And another.
All the doors are locked.
I find myself at the back of the castle, where the new doors were installed, but no luck there either.
He locked me out.
Byron wants to marry me to hurt Cal but killing me might be the next best thing.
My back presses to the wooden door and I slide down. At least there is a lip on the roof that stops the snow from falling here. It’s still cold as hell, but it’s dry.
I close my eyes and wait. That's all I can do at this point.
“I found her and she’s alive.”
That voice. It’s so familiar.
“Bella. Bella, wake up.”
My dry lips smack together. I dart my tongue out to wet them, feeling the rigid cracks and tasting a hint of metal.
“Come on. Let’s get you inside.”
Someone begins pulling me up until I’m standing, but it’s a dream. No one is coming to save me.
I’ve only got myself.
The weight of my body leaves my feet, and I’m cradled like a baby.
“Shit. You’re cold as ice.”
It’s a dream, Bella. Don’t wake up. Just go with it.
I swallow, and it feels like razor blades sliding down my throat.
God, he’s so warm—whoever he is. Pulling me tighter, I rest my head on his chest and smile.
If only he were real.
Warmth. I can feel it. There’s no longer a cold breeze scratching at my skin. There’s a fire. I smell wood burning and I can feel the heat of the blaze kiss my cheeks. It feels nice.
We sit down, me still in his arms. A warm blanket wraps around me with strong hands holding me tight. “Bella, wake up.”
Don’t do it. Don’t wake up. You’ll find yourself out in the snow again. Just enjoy the dream, even if it’s not real, it’s safe.
“Bella,” he says again. My eyes open, and I immediately push myself off his lap.
“Trent?” I take a step back, making sure my eyes aren’t deceiving me. “What the hell are you doing here?” The feeling returns to my feet, and it’s a sharp, tingling pain. I sit down in the chair behind me as I try to wrap my head around Trent’s arrival. I squeeze my toes, rubbing them and trying to get the blood flowing.
This has to be a dream. Or maybe even a nightmare. There is no way that Trent would be back on the island. He shouldn’t even know I’m here.
“I came looking for you. Your parents said they haven’t been able to reach you or Mark, and I was worried. She mentioned how you’ve been obsessed with finding Callum Ellis and I had to at least check this place. Why the hell were you out in the cold like that?” Trent jumps up, blanket in hand. “Did that bastard lock you out? I’ll fucking kill him.”
I spring up and grab him by the arm, attempting to pull him toward the door so we can leave, but his feet stay planted. “We have to go. Like right fucking now.”
He doesn’t move, just looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Trent, I’m not kidding. We have to go!”
His arms extend and he sweeps the blanket out and wraps it around me. “You need to rest. Don’t worry. I’ll handle Callum. He’ll never be able to hurt you again. I promise you, Bella.”
My head shakes, and I try to speak, but the words don’t come out.
“Just calm down—”