Page 102 of Hot for Hostage

I cut a glare at Vince, whose head jerked back.

“What?” he mouthed, totally clueless.

“You’re not a distraction,” I told Sadie, raising my voice so Vince got the message, too. His face twisted in a grimace. “Now, turn the damn van around.”

She sucked in a breath. “How do you know I’m in a van?”

“I’ll tell you as soon as you get back here.”

It was worth a shot.

“I can’t do that. I’m nobody’s mistress, Dav,” Sadie said, her voice growing stronger. “I won’tbea mistress.”

I was going to strangle my father for lying to her. “Good thing I’m not fucking engaged, then.”

There was another pause on Sadie’s end of the call, and I could just picture her biting that full lower lip of hers. “…You’re not?”

“My old man lied. There’s no engagement. No wedding. I’ve never even touched Daniella.”

“…But what about the line of mafia princesses waiting for you to choose one of them?” she asked, still sounding suspicious.

Of all the things I’d expected her to say… “What the hell are you talking about? What princesses?”

Vince made a choking sound, like he was coughing up a hairball.

“Vince told me you have a dozen of them willing to marry you to strengthen… alliance stuff or something like that,” Sadie said, stumbling over the words. “You know. Mafia things.”

My former best friend conveniently avoided my glare, and my fingers flexed against the countertop. Turned out, I was going to kill my father and my right-hand man all in one day.

“If there’s any hope for alliances, it’s one-sided. I’m not interested in any,” I told Sadie. “You’re the only one I’m involved with. The only one Iwantto be involved with.”

“Oh.” Her voice brightened considerably. “Well, that’s good news.”

“Glad we cleared it up. Now, come back here so we can talk the rest of this out.”

Her answering silence lasted long enough I thought the call might’ve dropped.

“Sadie?” I asked, turning my back to Vince and lowering my voice. I was willing to beg if that was what it took, but it wasn’t something I needed him overhearing. “Come back.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she whispered before clearing her throat. “These feelings we have for each other were so sudden, and the way we met was very… unique. But it doesn’t mean we should entertain this. I mean, how do we know we didn’t just get whisked away by the unexpected passion of a hostage situation?”

My jaw threatened to crack with how tightly I clenched it. “Whisked?”

“Yeah, whisked. Like… Like we’re a bowl of egg whites trying to be meringue, you know?”

No, apparently, I didn’t know.

Sadie sighed quietly. “It’s a lovely thought, but we’re not egg whites, Dav. And we’ll never be meringue.”

I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it—wondering if I’d had a stroke—before putting it back. “Say that again in English.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “The last couple days have been like a fairy tale—well, one involving an alarming amount of blood. And instead of a princess in a tower, there was a man locked in a shed. But some time apart will give us a better perspective. For all we know, our feelings are the result of Stockholm and reverse Stockholm syndrome.”

I closed my eyes. This girl would be the death of me.

“I don’t care about syndromes or whatever the hell meringue is. I’m not playing around,” I said, fighting to keep my voice even. “I need you back here, where you’ll be safe. The Skulls’ friends know about the shelter and your apartment. Let me take care of them, then you can go wherever you want.”

I’d send Shane or Malcolm with her for security, but technically she could go anywhere.

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