Page 70 of Stealing His Cupcake
You’re not Wyatt.
Unknown
Aren’t you a smart cunt? Well, it was worth a shot. Now, get into that fucking car or your precious Wyatt dies.
Ragged whimpers echo through the garage, and it takes me a few seconds to realize they’re coming from me. What am I supposed to do? Handing myself over is a terrible idea, but what other options do I have? It’s not likeI can call the police or ask anyone for help. Aside from Kayla, I don’t have a soul in the world, and I doubt Wyatt has any close friends who’d rush to rescue him. Maybe if I knew more about how Wyatt’s world works, I could hire someone to kill Nolan, but I’ve never asked for any details.
Me
You’re just going to kill us both
Unknown
Yeah, you got me there *laughing emoji* How about this? If you don’t come, I’ll draw his death out and I’ll make sure he knows it’s your fault. He’ll go out cursing your name.
Jesus Christ. This man is completely mental. I bet he’ll torture Wyatt anyway. Maybe torture me in front of him to make him suffer more if I go. I can’t give in. I’m certain Wyatt wouldn’t want me to.
Me
No
It’s the hardest message I’ve ever sent, and I want to take it back the moment I hit send, but I don’t.
Unknown
No? Stubborn cunt. Fine. I guess I’ll have to resort to other means of convincing you.
Other means? What other means? I'm sure I’ll cave if he sends pictures or videos of Wyatt being tortured, but I can’t bring myself to block him.
“What do I do?” Whimpering, I hug myself as if that could stop me from falling apart. I’ve never felt more alone in my life. I need Wyatt to pull me into his arms and tell me everything is going to be okay but he can’t, because he’s at the mercy of a psychopath getting tortured because I’m too scared to leave the damn house. But if Wyatt couldn’t defeat Nolan, then what chance do I have? Perhaps I should call the police. It’s better if Wyatt’s in prison than dead, right? Besides, I’m sure he could bribe his way out or escape or something. I can’t let him die.
My phone beeps with an incoming message again and I have to gather all my courage to even look at the screen, breathing a relieved sigh when I see it’s a message from Geraldine. The relief is short-lived, though.
Geraldine
Your friend is lovely, Amy! Such a bright young gentleman.
Oh, no. Nolan wouldn’t threaten an old lady, would he? Oh my god, who am I kidding? Of course he would!
Unknown
Ready to do what I say, bitch? You have fifteen minutes to get here before I slit this old hag’s throat. And don’t even think about calling the police. I’ll kill you both before they even get their fat asses out of the car.
Well, that settles the question of calling the police. Good thing someone solved that dilemma for me. Hysterical laughter bubbles up my throat. Do I really need someone to tell me what to do? How useless am I?
I need to go to Nolan, that much is obvious. I would never forgive myself if Geraldine got hurt because of me. Wyatt got into this life knowing whathe was in for and, in a way, so did I, but Geraldine is innocent. However, that doesn’t mean I have to just walk there like a lamb to a slaughter.
A plan hatches in my mind. A desperate plan that’s unlikely to work, but it’s better than nothing.
Chapter 50
Amy
BythetimeIpull up at Geraldine’s house, I’m drenched in sweat and on the brink of a mental breakdown. Wyatt’s fancy car sports long scratches and I’m pretty sure one of the taillights is shattered, but Wyatt only taught me to drive forward. His lesson didn’t cover backing out of a garage through a too narrow door. I guess I should be grateful this car is automatic too, because if I had to figure out how to operate the stick thing to change gears, I would have probably just ran over to Geraldine’s instead of attempting to use a car.
Wind slams into me as I exit the car, the storm slowly picking up. Wincing, I glance at the poor vehicle. Once I reached the open road, it was easy to keep the car in a straight line, but before that… Let’s just say we’ll have to plant a few new bushes around our driveway, aside from repairing the damage to the garage door. Who would have thought turning the car around is so damn difficult?
Nolan and Geraldine are waiting for me in front of her door, and I breathe out a relieved sigh at seeing her unharmed. In fact, she’s smiling, and so is Nolan. A lanky kid with a bad complexion, he looks like theepitome of innocence. “There she is,” he says, smiling widely. “Right on time. I’m afraid I will have to take my leave, Mrs. Wilkins.”
