Page 111 of Blue Moon

“Good luck. The chains are attached to the wall.”

I studied the chain and the padlock. I’d seen rappers wearing chunkier jewellery, but there was still no way I could break free. Not without bolt cutters. Panic clawed its way up my throat, but I forced myself to stay calm. I was alive and uninjured. So were Kacie and Michelle. Mark Antony had gone to some effort with this setup, and if he thought I was his wife, he wouldn’t kill me. Not unless I upset him, anyway. I just had to bide my time. When Ryder got back, he’d look for me, and I’d seen firsthand the effort Blackwood put into a rescue operation. They’d leave no stone unturned.

But…but Mark Antony thought I was his wife. What if he expected me to…to… Oh hell. I looked around at the king-sized bed I was lying on, and nausea overwhelmed me. I rolled to the side and retched.

“Yeuch!” Michelle jumped sideways as vomit splashed onto the floor. “I’m not cleaning that up.”

“Where is he? Where’s Mark Antony?”

“How should I know?”

“He comes and goes,” Kacie explained. “Every few days, he’s been bringing more food, but he said that he’d be able to spend more time here after you arrived.”

“He told you he was going to snatch me?”

She nodded miserably. “And we couldn’t do a thing about it.”

“Your bodyguard kept getting in the way,” Michelle told me. “That’s why it took so long, but then you moved to a different hotel or something, and he said that made things easier.”

Because Ryder was gone.

Whoever Mark Antony was, he must have been watching us so, so closely, although I still didn’t know how he’d gotten me out of my suite. Frank had promised no male staff, and he’d kept his word. Mark A had to be a reporter, didn’t he? That was what Ryder thought. One of those pesky paparazzi must have braved Romeo’s wrath and come back to the Nile Palace.

“Do you know where we are? Are we still in Nevada?”

Michelle rolled her eyes. “How should I know? Do I look tall enough to see out of those windows?”

No, she didn’t; they were at least ten feet above us. But if I stood on her shoulders…

“Can you lift me up?”

“Which part of ‘I ain’t being no slave’ did you not get?”

“Which part of ‘we need to get out of here’ did you not get? If I stand on your shoulders, then I might be able to see where we are.”

“Why don’t I stand on your shoulders?”

“Because you’re twice my size?”

“Are you callin’ me fat?”

Kacie stepped between us, her chain jingling across the floor. “Michelle, Cleopatra’s right. You’re much stronger, and she’s only five feet tall.”

“It’s Luna, and I’m five feet one, actually.”

Michelle huffed. “Okay, fine.”

She crouched a bit, and Kacie helped me to scramble up onto her shoulders. I took a few deep breaths. My mind was still fuzzy, and perhaps this hadn’t been the best idea after all? The window was still three inches above my head, so I grabbed the bars and hauled myself up.

“Can you see anything?” Kacie asked.

“Trees. Just trees. Miles and miles of trees. I think we’re on a hill.”

“Are there any people?”

“No signs of civilisation whatsoever.”

I wobbled and nearly fell off Michelle’s shoulders, but Kacie caught me and helped me down.

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