Page 154 of Love Me Reckless

“Okay, okay,” Sheldon says, sounding bored, but there’s an edge to his voice that’s making it hard to think.

I agreed to give Sheldon my savings on one condition: after his debt was paid, he had to promise to let Sawyer and I help him.

I type in the number sequence again, this time adding a zero I think I forgot. The light flashes green and the heavy lock mechanism clicks. I open the thick safe door. Inside, Birch’s hunting rifles and two antique firearms line the left side, with two types of compartments lining the right—a square safe for cash and five narrow drawers below it for jewelry.

Behind me, Sheldon makes a soft sigh that prickles my neck hairs.

I open the cash safe, and for a moment, I’m stunned. I don’t remember there being so much in here. Most of the stacks of bills are US currency, but there is a fair amount of euros, and bills I don’t recognize, probably from Singapore, which Birch explained once is the most stable Asian currency. There’s also a handgun I don’t remember.

Quickly, I reach for my stack of hundreds bound by a yellow paper band and try to close the compartment, but Sheldon is too quick. “You didn’t tell me there’s more.”

I don’t like the way his eyes have gone glassy.

“Sheldon,” I say, trying to keep his attention. “This is what we came for. We’re going to close the safe now and I’ll take you wherever you want. Just like we agreed. Remember?”

His look turns pleading, and I can almost see the torment going through his thoughts.

In an instant, everything goes wrong. I reach for the safe door, but he’s one step ahead of me, shoving me aside. I stumble, crashinginto the cabinet door before landing on my knees. When I look up, Sheldon is pointing the handgun at me.

“Change of plans,” he says, licking his lips, his breaths fast.

I stare at the barrel of the gun, panting. “Put down the gun, Sheldon. Please.”

“I can’t.” His mouth hardens to a look of determination. “Put all the cash in your purse.”

“That’s crazy! Shel?—”

He steps closer and aims the gun at my head, his eyes cold. “I don’t want to hurt you, okay?”

For a moment, I’m frozen. It’s like he’s a different person.

“Put all the cash in your purse,” he repeats, stepping behind me.

My heart pounding, I rock to my feet, but my legs feel like noodles. I grab my purse from the couch and cross to the safe. Sheldon follows my every move with the gun.

I fight my confusion and fear and try to do as he says. I don’t exactly understand what’s going on with Sheldon, but I’m now certain that he lied to me about whatever he’s caught up in. Sawyer didn’t steal from me. Could it all be Sheldon’s doing? I think back to that mysterious visitor this morning at the house—is Sheldon working with someone? Then when things didn’t turn out as planned, Sheldon told me lies about Sawyer so I would feel compelled to help?

It's manipulative and so cruel. How could this be happening?

With shaking fingers, my breaths echoing in the tight space, I gather the cash and put it in my purse. It’s surprisingly heavy.

“What’s in those drawers?” Sheldon asks once the safe is empty.

I pull open the top one, but the velvet is bare—it’s not like I have a lot of expensive jewelry.

“Keep going,” Sheldon says.

The second one is also empty, but the third one holds Birch’s watch collection.

Sheldon whistles. He snatches one of the watches and slides it on. “What about that last one?”

I open it to the antique coin collection Birch inherited from his grandfather.

“No,” Sheldon says, like he’s having a conversation in his mind. “What else is here?”

I risk a glance, but he’s still pointing the gun at my back. “What do you mean?”

He gives me a shrewd scan. “Where’s your jewelry?”

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