My heart jumps again, but this time, it’s a loud banging on my door that causes it. Addison and Owen should be gone by now, so I’m not sure who it could be. Please, dear God, don’t let Mom and Dad be outside. They only live a few hours away. If Addison called and told them she was worried about me, they’d be here in no time. That’s just the way they are. I really don’t want to see anyone. For the next few days, I want to hibernate, cocoon in the safety of my bed, and figure out what to do with the rest of my life because clearly, my previous life plan is up in smoke.
I’m not going to answer—I hope they go away. I have other things to do, like finding a job. Ideally, I’d want to find something in my field of study, communication disorders—like speech therapy, or hearing specialist—but I’m not going to be picky. I just need to find something, even if that means I wait tables until something better comes along. The banging begins again. Then again.
I can’t take it anymore.
Yawning, I stretch as I make my way to the front door. I’m too tired to deal with my parents or an upset neighbor. I open the door, my eyes landing on the chest of a man roughly the size of a mountain. Looking up at him is like looking up at a skyscraper. He removes his sunglasses, his eyes a soft brown that contrast his hard frame.
Pulling out an ID, he says, “I’m Geoffrey Reynolds, head of security for Ryder Merrick.”
His voice is low and deep and demands respect. I take his ID, examining it, knowing I couldn’t tell the difference even if it was fake. “Can I help you?”
“I need you to come with me,” he says, walking past me into my tiny cottage and closing the door behind him.
“What? Why?” I demand as Geoffrey hands me his phone. Putting it to my ear, I say softly, “Hello?”
I hear Ryder’s voice. “Did you see the interview?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” I say, trying to control the shakiness in my voice.
“The media figured out who you are.”
“What? How do you know that?”
“Look, they will be there any minute. Go with Geoffrey. He’ll take you someplace safe until I can clean up this mess. I’m sorry.”
“Are you insane? I’m not going anywhere with anyone.” I hang up the phone, staring down at it like it’s the enemy here, before handing it back to the mountain of a man before me.
“Ma’am, you aren’t prepared for the shit storm that’s coming, trust me,” Geoffrey says.
Something about his eyes makes me want to trust him, but I’m not going to relent. “I’m pretty savvy. I think I can handle it.”
“No offense, ma’am, but you just opened the door to a six foot six, three-hundred-pound man without so much as a flinch. I think you might need my help.” The corners of his mouth turn up, and I can’t resist the urge to smile back at him. His phone rings, and I don’t have to look to know who’s calling. However, Geoffrey doesn’t answer this time. “Look, I’m under orders to get you out of here, and I can do that the easy way or the hard way. But you look like a nice girl, so can we make it easy?”
My hand flies to my hip. “You look like a nice man yourself, but I’m still not going anywhere.”
His phone rings again, but this time, he answers. “Where? Out front? Okay, go around back. We’ll meet you one street over. Out in two.” Geoffrey opens my front curtains and points to three cars already parked out front.
I see people hopping out, cameras in hand. This is happening. This isn’t a drill. Before I can even think about what to do, Geoffrey takes my arm, pulling me out the back door. “But my purse, my clothes. I’m in my PJ’s.”
“There’s no time.”
One swift kick from him, and a piece of the back-fence collapses to the ground. “Oh my God, you just . . .”
“I’ll send someone to fix it later,” he says, taking my elbow. “We have to move.”
Pulling me through the hole in the fence, he takes a second to survey his surroundings, deciding the most efficient way to trespass through my sister’s neighbor’s backyard. I’m not a prude who’s never done anything illegal—underage drinking in college, jaywalking, and I’m known for my lead foot while driving – but destruction of property and trespassing? In mere seconds, he has us through the backyard and heading toward the street—all before a dog even has time to bark at us. A black SUV skids to a halt, and Geoffrey hurries me inside.
Why are cars used for security always black?
“Put your head down,” he tells me, but my brain doesn’t compute the order. Gently, his hand goes to the back of my head, pushing it down. “Everything is fine. You are fine. I won’t let anyone get to you,” he whispers.
The driver speeds off, and a few seconds later, Geoffrey removes his hand, allowing me to raise my head. I look out the back of the SUV, watching the neighborhood fading in the distance. Is this really happening? Is my old life gone?
Unsure whether I should cry, laugh, or be pissed as hell, I say, “I need to go back.”
“There’s probably twenty cars there by now,” Geoffrey says.
“But I don’t have anything, not even my phone. I have to call my parents, my sister. Oh God, I have to call my sister,” I say, my body starting to tremble.
Geoffrey pulls out his phone. “Call her.”
Taking a few breaths, I try to calm my nerves, knowing this stress can’t be good for the baby, and dial Addison. She answers with a flurry of curse words. Several neighbors already called her. She didn’t know what the hell had happened, other than the fence was busted, some man had dragged me away, and the street was flooded with camera crews. I try to explain to her what happened, but I’m not quite sure myself. It was so fast.
No longer able to keep my emotions in check, a few tears trail down my cheeks. “I don’t have my phone, or anything. I’m in my pajamas.”
Geoffrey whispers to me. “There will be a new phone with a new number when we get to the house. You’ll be able to be in constant contact.”
“Addison, I need to call you back. Please call Mom and Dad for me, and let them know I’m fine.” Physically, at least. My nerves are shot, and I feel like I’ve been swept up in a tornado, not sure which way is up, and which way is down. I turn to Geoffrey, what he said suddenly dawning on me. “Wait, whose house?”
“Mr. Merrick is waiting for you there.”
No freaking way! If I wasn’t pregnant, I’d consider jumping from this moving car. “You didn’t say anything about me meeting him!”
Geoffrey’s phone rings again, and he puts it to his ear, answering. “Yes, sir . . . She’s here . . . Perfectly safe . . . No one saw us . . . Thank you, sir . . . Yes . . . She’s not at all happy . . . Got it.”
When he hangs up, he leans forward and says to the driver, “Let’s get Miss Walker something to eat. Stop at the next drive-thru.”
“Ryder ordered you to feed me?” I ask, rolling my eyes.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, smiling at me, revealing a mouth full of shiny, straight, white teeth. When he smiles, he looks about as scary as a butterfly.
I shake my head a little. Damn it, I like him already. “Call me Kailey.”