Page 68 of His Weekend Wife

“Good luck,” Ash said.

One corner of his mouth lifted and his gaze narrowed. “Then let’s play it the hard way. He stepped over to Abby, grabbed her hand and twisted. She screamed in pain that made Phillipe’s grin grow by miles. He liked the agony he caused in others, that was apparent.

“Let her go!” Ash stood up, giving Phillipe’s shoulder a push.

“Number?”

“Give me the phone.”

He handed the cell over, still holding Abby’s hand in his tight grip. “Type it in.”

“I will.”

Instead of letting go, he grabbed her middle finger and pushed it back so far that the bone cracked. She became pale and he dropped her hand. She held it against her chest, her sobs echoing off the bare walls.

“Now you understand how clear I am on making sure you follow the rules. Next time it’ll be her arm. Got it?”

Without a word, Ash typed in the number and started to bring the phone to her ear, but Phillipe jerked it out of her hand, pulling out some of her hair too. Ash dropped back to the bed and comforted Abby, and listened.

“You don’t know me, amigo, but I’m now your worst nightmare,” Phillipe sneered into the phone.

Ash cringed.

“Don’t threaten me. The only thing I want is for you to listen. You’re lucky because I only want money, not blood on my hands.”

*****

Declan held the phone tight in his hand. The second he’d walked into his empty apartment he’d known something was wrong. Ash would have told him if she was leaving, and the still hot pots on the stove and the burning pie in the oven told him she’d left in a hurry. For the five minutes that he’d scrambled around the place looking for any clue of where she’d gone were the worst minutes of his life. And he’d known, without a doubt, that Phillipe had something to do with his wife’s disappearance.

The call now wasn’t any surprise. Declan was somewhat calm, yet on the inside he was a raging bull ready to reach through the receiver and rip off the bastard’s head. “Tell me what you want,” Declan said, willing to do whatever needed done to make sure Ash was safe.

The man’s chuckle elevated Declan’s heart rate. “Let’s get down to business. If you want to see your pretty wife again, then you’ll cough up one hundred grand.”

“Done.” The low number showed the other man’s lack of intelligence. If he’d done his research he would have known Declan’s worth and made his price higher.

There was a long hesitation as if Declan’s quick answer caught him off guard. Yeah, just as Declan figured, the man was an impulsive train wreck and he could easily use that against him.

“Call the police and she’s dead. Tell anyone and she’s dead. Show up a minute late and she’s dead.” Phillipe’s raw tone made Declan’s spine ache.

“Tell me where we meet.”

“At the old train station, you know, the one with the old car and the American flag flying from a window.”

“Yes, I do know. But there’s one more thing…”

Another hesitation. “Yes?”

“I need to speak with her. I need to know she’s okay.” He gripped the cell, hearing plastic crack and wishing it was the man’s skull.

“Make it quick,” he growled. There was rustling sound on the other end.

“Declan?” Ash’s voice trembled.

“Are you okay?” His gut tightened.

“Yes…as best as can be expected.” He could hear the shaking in her voice.

“I’m coming to get you.”

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