Echo

  Growing impatient, I honk my horn, and when I do, the driver’s door opens. I watch a shiny, black loafer step out onto the street, and a thousand penetrating emotions shoot off inside of me.

  What the fuck is he doing here?

  Nerves wrack me as I fist the steering wheel tightly in my hands. I watch him approach my car, and for a split second, I consider running him over. But truth is, I have no idea why he’s even here.

  So without wasting another second, I fall back into the character I know so well and hide myself in Nina’s mask. Righting my spine, I forget all about Elizabeth, and open the door.

  “How quickly you move on,” he taunts as I stand before him.

  “Nice to see you too, Richard.”

  “I doubt you mean that, but thanks anyway.”

  “What are you doing here in Scotland?”

  “I could ask you the same, but I think it’s pretty clear.”

  His words irk me as always, and I bite my response, “Cut the shit, Richard. Tell me why you flew halfway around the world.”

  His face flattens in a no-nonsense expression when he states, “We need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “Your husband.”

  As far as I know, Richard knows nothing about the lies and deception. He only knows me as Nina, Bennett’s wife, and now widow. He’s been Bennett’s business partner from the very beginning, and the two of them were close. Not close enough though because I know Richard is clueless to the fact that Bennett fucked his precious little wife and that the baby Richard believes to be his is, in fact, just a pathetic bastard.

  “I haven’t been contacted about anything concerning the investigation,” I tell him. “Are there any new developments?”

  His eyes narrow, and I don’t trust the hinting grin on his face. “Don’t you think it’s a little hard to be in the loop of information when you’re operating on a cheap, disposable phone?”

  My poker face is strong, but my body numbs, wondering how he knows about my untraceable phone. My words deflect my panic as I say, “Always butting your nose in where it never belongs, aren’t you?”

  “Like I said, we need to talk.”

  “Then talk.”

  “Inside,” he states firmly.

  “Why not here?”

  He grows irritated, fuming loudly, “Because it’s fucking cold and my balls don’t like it.”

  He’s so damn disgusting.

  I hesitate on taking him inside Declan’s home, but figure it’s safer up there with all the cameras than down here on the street.

  “Fine.”

  He follows me through the gate and up to the house. As I lead him in and to the library, he remarks, “You don’t ever slum it, do you?”

  “Is there a point to the nonsense you spew?” I sit across from him, and when he takes a seat, I say, “So what is it? What is so important that you needed to travel all this way?”

  He leans forward and takes a moment before looking over at me, revealing, “I know who you are.”

  “Oh yeah, and who’s that?”

  “No use in playing coy because I know your dirty, little secrets.”

  His words imply threats, and I don’t take well to his evasiveness. “Cut the shit and get to your point.”

  “He knew. Bennett had me following you when he suspected you were fucking around on him.”

  “It was you?”

  He nods as he leans back, getting much too comfortable for my liking. I think back to the hospital, and I knew the voice sounded familiar when he told Bennett who I really was, but I couldn’t pinpoint it with all the drugs they had me on.

  “Needless to say, I wasn’t surprised when I discovered your affair,” he says condescendingly. “What did surprise me was when I found out you were nothing but runaway street trash.”

  “What’s your point, Richard?”

  “Why did you marry him?”

  “Because I loved him,” I lie. “Nothing wrong with reinventing yourself to get a fresh start in life.”

  “Except when the person you reinvented yourself for winds up dead.”

  “You’re an asshole,” I sling at him in mock disgust.

  “I just have one question . . . who did it? Who did you have off him?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “How convenient, but I don’t think the cops would buy it if I turned over all the information I have on you.”

  “You’re so cute,” I sneer, pissing him off. “You think your threats have an effect on me? Why don’t you just tell me what you’re after and stop wasting my time.”

  “No bullshit, cut to the chase?”

  “Please.”

  In all seriousness, he tells me, “I need money.” I laugh, and he snaps, “What the fuck is so funny?”

  “You.” I sit back, cross my legs, and ask, “Why on earth would you be coming to me, of all people, for money?”

  “Because I trust you to keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut if anyone were to come asking questions.”

  “What do you need money for?”

  “You haven’t been watching the news?”

  “I’ve been a little preoccupied to be keeping up with American news.”

  He shakes his head with an arrogant smirk, and I cross my arms in irritation. “Enlighten me. Please.”

  “Linq Incorporated is under investigation. I thought you’d know that by now since your lover’s father has been sitting in jail for his part in the fraud.”

  “What?” I question, confused as to what the hell Cal has to do with my husband’s business and what was fraudulent about the company. “What fraud?”

  “The company’s just a front for washing money.”

  “Money from what?”

  Richard then stands and walks across the room. When he’s right in front of me, I freeze as he reaches his hand inside his suit jacket. “Guns,” he states as he pulls out his own and aims it at me.

  Adrenaline flushes through my system as I stare into the barrel of the pistol that’s marked me as its target. I try to appear calm, but my staggering breaths are my tell—I’m scared.

  “I want what was left to you in Bennett’s will. You give me that and I’ll disappear. You’ll never hear from me again.”

  “I don’t . . . He didn’t . . . ” I stutter over my words. “I didn’t get everything.”

  “You’re lying to me. I know you’re the sole heir.”

  Shaking my head, I try to explain, “I thought I was, but . . . he changed it before he died. I didn’t know until I met with the attorney.”

  He scowls, takes another step closer, and presses the cold steel to my forehead. I gasp in fear, clutching the arms of the chair as my heart beats in erratic terror.

  My voice is pitchy when I frantically explain, “Look, if what y-your wanting is m-money to flee, I-I don’t have that much for you. I mean . . . it wouldn’t be enough.”

  “Then where is it?”

  The desperation in his eyes makes me fear what he would do if I told him the truth. He’d most likely lose his shit and pull that trigger if he knew about his son being Bennett’s. But beyond that, what the hell was Bennett doing with his company? Did he even know? My mind warps in confusion, overwhelmed with too many questions, that I begin to lose focus.

  “Where is it?” he shouts, scaring the shit out of me with his murderous glare.

  The tip of the gun shakes against my head as I look up into his furiously crazed eyes, and I begin trembling. My whole body jittery in fear.

  “I-I don’t know.”

  WHACK!

  I scream in heated pain as I fall out of my chair and onto the floor. My hand cups the side of my head where he just pummeled his gun. The blunt force sparking a fire of light in my vision as I fight against the sharp agony that pierces through my skull.

  He stands over me, pointing the gun at my face, and I wail, “Okay! Okay!” I throw my hands up in surrender.

  “Stop fucking
around with me!”

  “I’m not!”

  “Where is it?”

  “It’s in a trust,” I reveal. “He put it in a trust I don’t have access to.”

  Richard kneels down to one knee, hovering over me, gritting between clenched teeth, “Whose trust?”

  With nerves crashing, I tell him, “A trust for his son.”

  “You lying cunt.”

  “Fuck you. It’s the truth,” I lash out when my anger grows at his degrading words. My emotions get away from me as my head spins in waves of turbulence. As I stare up at this man I’ve loathed for years, I see the wretchedness and desperation in his eyes, and I feel a little deranged as I begin to laugh at him.

  “What the fuck are you laughing at?”

  “He played us both,” I say as my laughter intensifies.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Bennett,” I tell him.

  “He doesn’t have a son. I’ve known Bennett since he was a kid. I know everything about him, so I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

  “No?” I question in mockery. “Tell me something then,” I start, and pleasure blooms inside of me to be the one to deliver the truth to him. I smile and continue, “How deeply have you looked into Alexander’s eyes?”

  I watch as his face contorts and add, “Because if you look deep enough, you’ll see Bennett staring back at you.”

  And when realization splays across his face, he takes a step back in shock. I know Richard adores his son. Probably more than he does his wife. So to be the one to stab this dagger of truth through his heart delights me.

  I move to stand, and when I do, the giggle that slips from my lips is maniacal as I gloat, “That’s right, Richard. Your precious little wife fucked my husband and they had a baby together.”

  “You’re full of shit!”

  “Bennett left everything to him. But if you think you can get the money, you’re wrong. You see, Bennett was smart enough to not assign Jacqueline as the executor. He assigned his attorney.”

  His nostrils flare, and I lose myself in utter delirium as I continue to laugh at every fucked up part of this crazy story. The room spins around me, a blurry realm of colors and shadows, as my hearing tunnels in the reverberations of my own laughter.

  “Fuck you!” his voice cuts through, but only for a moment before he swings his arm around. It all happens in a flash of slow motion, but too quick for me to stop, as he drives the gun with a force that parallels his anger into my head, knocking me off my feet.

  My head clips the corner of an end table before smashing against the floor.

  Light flashes behind my eyelids.

  Sparks.

  Diamond dust.

  Clouds.

  Blackness.

  “MMMMM!” I SCREAM from my throat behind the tape over my mouth.

  My heart crashes so hard it beats in my head. Sheer panic punctures every organ inside of me, flooding my body in pure fear as I thrash around in the darkness. I jerk and kick, but my wrists are bound behind my back and my ankles are tied together in duct tape.

  “MMMMM!” I force my voice as loud as I can as it scratches through my strained cords. I know no one can hear me, but I don’t care.

  Twisting my hands is useless against the tape that’s secured in a tight restraint. Frustration boils over, pricking in tingles along my palms, and I lose control. I release another worthless, muffled scream, squinting my eyes in an attempt to amplify the sound as I flail my body around like a maniac in the trunk of the car I’ve woken to.

  Time wisps past me as the miles collect and my panic dissolves. My body slacks, absorbing the bumps in the road as I’m being taken into the labyrinth of Richard’s desperation.

  I knew better than to push him over the edge like I did, but I lost it. I was outside of my head and taking joy from my lashings. But now those lashings have me tied up in the trunk of his car, and I have no way to escape.

  I fill the drive trying to figure out what the hell Bennett’s company was being used as a front for. Richard said guns, but in what capacity? All I can think about is my father’s business. He trafficked guns; is it possible that’s what Linq is a cover for? Another trafficking scheme? Surely not. But if so, is it in any way linked to my dad? My thoughts aren’t logical. I mean, maybe it’s coincidental.

  Fuck, what’s going on? Did Bennett know? I find it so hard to believe that he did. He was such a straight-edge guy, built out of strong values and always following the rules. It was sickening to watch, but that was the core of Bennett.

  And how the hell was Cal involved? Maybe Bennett did know. After all, Bennett and Cal worked in a few business deals together through the years. Does Declan know about his dad? God, he seemed like such an honest guy as well, but maybe he knew.

  Irritation swarms the more I think and question, but what’s the use? I’m not going to dissect this on my own.

  My body alerts as I feel the car slow and then come to a stop. My pulse quickens when I hear the door slam shut.

  Are we in a public place? Are people around? Do I risk making noise?

  Taking in slow, quiet breaths, I focus on what’s going on outside, but I hear nothing. Every muscle in my body is tensed up as I wait, but nothing happens. Time continues to pass, and eventually, I feel myself drifting to sleep. I struggle to stay awake as my eyes fall shut.

  I DON’T KNOW how long I’ve been out when I feel the car halt to a sudden stop. I wonder how far we’ve traveled. I hear the door shut, and it’s only seconds until the trunk pops open.

  Light burns my eyes, and I flinch away as Richard’s hands grab on to me, yanking me out of the car. I don’t even think to take in my surroundings, simply fighting against his hold, jerking my body around.

  With his hands on my arms, he slams me against a solid rock wall. He knocks the wind out of me, and I gasp desperately through my nose while my throat strangles against my depleted lungs. Hunched over, I panic and choke when he grabs my hair and pulls my head up. Hairs rip from my scalp as a steel blade meets my cheek.

  My eyes widen in horror as my breath finally catches. Whimpering, I close my eyes as he presses the blade into my soft flesh. My cry is muffled by the tape that still covers my mouth when I feel the pop of my skin as he slices me open.

  He then presses the flat of the blade to the tape that covers my lips, saying, “If you think I have limits, you’re wrong.”

  Bending down, he uses the knife to cut the duct tape around my ankles, but leaves my wrists bound. The blood from my cheek drips from my jaw, landing on my top.

  “Walk,” he commands, grabbing my arm and leading me down an alleyway.

  I look around, quickly attempting to figure out where we are, but it’s too dark, and the alley is too narrow. He leads me down a flight of steps to an underground area, and I remember Lachlan telling me about the vaults under the city. He told me some of them now serve as clubs or restaurants, some for ghost tours, but others simply remain empty. And there’s no doubt that’s where he’s taking me as he moves me through a stone tunnel, damp with water, and into a fairly large room.

  Taking in my surroundings, I can tell this used to be used for a business of sorts. There’s electricity, built-in counters along one of the walls, a desk, and a couple of chairs. I watch as Richard walks over to the desk and lays his gun down. When he returns to me, he rips off the tape covering my mouth, and my eyes prick with tears against the sting.

  “Sit down,” he tells me, and I obey.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I ask.

  “You’re all I’ve got. I need you to help me disappear.”

  “From what?”

  “If the cops find me, I’ll spend the rest of my years in prison.”

  And he’s right. Richard is in his late fifties. I don’t know the crimes he’s committed, but the fact that he’s just kidnapped me tells me he’s in deep shit.

  “But I told you, I don’t have what you’re looking for,” I tell
him.

  “You may not, but someone who loves you does.”

  “Who?”

  “Declan McKinnon.”

  I shake my head, saying, “You’re wrong. He doesn’t love me. He hates me.”

  “Yet you’re living with him? I think you’re lying to me.”

  “I’m not. You have to believe me. He doesn’t love me. He keeps me there to punish me.”

  “Punish you for what?” he questions, but I bite my tongue, not sure how much to say.

  I won’t incriminate Declan, but do I incriminate myself? If I do, I run the risk of going to jail myself. So, I give him what he already knows from following me back in Chicago, and say, “For the fact that I wouldn’t leave Bennett for him.”

  I tell the lie, but I hate it because Declan is worth so much more than anyone else on this planet.

  Richard chuckles in irritation. “I don’t know exactly what you were doing with Bennett, but I’m smart enough to know, Elizabeth Archer, that you didn’t love him. So what was it about for you? What were you after? Money?”

  I don’t respond to him as he stares down at me. After a moment, he grabs a chair, pulling it in front of me, and takes a seat. He leans in towards me, and my head throbs in beats of aching heat from where he pistol-whipped me.

  His eyes bore into me as a sly smirk creeps across his lips. His voice is low when he asks, “Or does it all have something to do with your father?”

  My body pricks in chills at the mention of my dad. I tense around my hollowed chest, and wonder why he would even mention my father.

  What does he know?

  I don’t say a word out of utter terror that I’ve gotten myself mixed up with the wrong people when I started this fucked up game. I’ve always been in control when it came to my charade in Bennett’s life. But now all that control is gone and in the hands of this bastard, and that has me scared beyond belief. I pretend to be strong, but the reality of this situation has all confidence lost. I’ve been kidnapped and I don’t have the first clue how to get myself out of this.

  “I don’t know what you want from me,” I finally say, my voice coming out weakly. “What I told you about Declan was the truth. He hates me; he won’t care if you hurt me.”