I pull up the security app on my phone to log into my home system. Once it’s connected, I tap on each camera to view the rooms in the house. From the kitchen to the library, atrium, bedrooms, dining room, office, roof . . . nothing. I then flip over to the outdoor cameras and check the grotto, backyard, and various cameras that overlook most of the grounds. No sign of anyone. When I tap to view the garage, I notice my Mercedes roadster is missing, which explains why she’s nowhere to be seen. Irritation scathes me, not knowing what she’s up to or where she is.
I hate not knowing details, especially when it comes to her. I know I’m controlling and overbearing, but it’s the only way I know how to function without losing my shit.
She no longer has her old cell phone, and I haven’t seen a new one, so I don’t have a way of contacting her.
I decide to call Lachlan. I told him to stop following her because I didn’t like how involved he was getting in her life, but I swallow my pride, and call him anyway.
“McKinnon, how did the meetings go?” he says when he answers.
“Good,” I snip. “Look, I’m trying to get ahold of Elizabeth, but she isn’t at home and I don’t have a cell number for her.”
As soon as I have her number, I hang up and dial it.
A SUBTLE VIBRATION is all it takes to rouse me from my restless exhaustion. My mouth tastes metallic from the blood I consumed when Richard punched my face. I shift off my side and onto my back. The arm I’ve been lying on tingles and aches painfully. Looking across the room, I see Richard slumped back in a chair with his eyes closed and a hand on his gun.
My body alerts when the vibrations return. My thoughts are hard to grab on to with the multiple strikes to my head and the emotional rollercoaster I’ve been on since Richard appeared in front of Declan’s home. I focus on the faint buzzing sound, and my stomach clenches when I remember my cell phone. My body went numb a while ago, so it’s hard to pinpoint, but I know I shoved the phone in the pocket of my pants.
I look back to Richard; his eyes are still closed. My heart begins to race as I shimmy to try and move my arms as quietly as I can. With my eyes locked on Richard, I make attempt after attempt, but it’s no use. I can’t get my hands to my pocket. I know it’s Lachlan calling me because he’s the only one I ever gave that number to.
“Richard,” I call out to wake him up when I get an idea. “Richard.”
“What the hell do you want?” he says on a groggy voice when he opens his eyes.
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Hold it,” he snaps and closes his eyes again.
“I can’t, but I have no issues peeing myself if you don’t have any issues smelling it,” I lash back.
He breathes out in frustration and walks over to me, grabbing my arm and picking me up off the floor. Walking me down one of the corridors, we stop in front of a door.
“Hurry,” he demands, and I look at him, reminding, “My wrists.”
With a long, distrusting glare, he then says, “Turn around,” and I do.
He takes his knife out, and when he slices through the tape, finally releasing my hands, the phone begins to vibrate, and fear crashes inside of me, locking my body up. When I turn to look at Richard, I can tell he hears the phone by the look on his face.
He knowingly cocks his head to the side, and in a moment of fright, I lurch forward and bolt. I’m not even allowed one second of attempted freedom as he immediately catches his arm around my waist, pulling me back.
I fight against him, but the moment his fingers latch around my neck, I freeze. His hand pats my pockets, and he pulls out the cheap disposable phone I’ve been using since I arrived here in Scotland. He flips it open and holds it out in front of my face while he has me in his chokehold with my back pinned against his chest. He then selects the last number that called and clicks it.
Putting it on speakerphone, he threatens, “Say one word and I’ll make you regret feeling like you ever had a chance of one-upping me.”
And then the ringing stops when the call is connected. I hold my breath, and Richard remains quiet as we both wait for the contact to reveal themselves.
A few seconds pass, and then my heart pumps hope when I hear the worried voice of the man I never gave this number to.
“Elizabeth?”
His accent wraps around my name, and it feels as if it’s wrapping around my body in a soothing hug. I want to speak, to defy Richard and yell out all the details of my surroundings so that Declan can find me, but instead, I hold tightly to my breath.
“Elizabeth, are you there?”
“She’s here,” Richard answers.
“Who’s this?”
“A man that has no conscience or limits,” he responds before letting me go and handing me the phone.
In an instant, after taking a couple steps away from Richard, he has his knife to my face as I slowly bring the phone to my ear. Richard then takes my trembling hand as I listen to the gravel in Declan’s voice, assuming Richard still has the phone, threatening, “My word is my mark, and if you lay a hand on her, I’ll—“