Page 37 of Web of Lies
Larken
It became clear on the first day that this wasn't going to be the same kind of abduction that I've seen in movies and in the news, but I have still been held here, locked in trunks, chests, tied to chairs and cuffed to bed frames. I have also been fed and shown that the food I ate was safe. I doubt Adrian told them that he had been poisoning my food, but the fact that they understood why I refused to eat was another obvious hint that this wasn't a typical abduction. They have repeatedly declared that they wouldn't be taking me to the hospital, but they aren't holding guns to my head to convince me to keep myself hydrated.
And I slept.
Natural sleep.
It doesn't matter that I was tied to a chair or stuck under a bed. I slept. I didn't sleep in the chest, but that's a different situation.
Both of these men might be criminals. They might be a plight on this Earth. But, aside from the trunk... and the chest, neither of them have been cruel to me. Shaun even explained things to me before he put me in the chest and under the bed. He gave me time to prepare myself for it. I'm not saying that makes any of this okay, but I can appreciate the fact that he wasn't cruel when he did it. The things Wyatt has pushed me to do haven't been out of cruelty either. He simply doesn't want me sick.
It's hilarious that the men my wonderful husband hired to kidnap me are treating me more kindly than he does. Absolutely hilarious. Still, I don't know what the point in truly kidnapping me would be. I doubt Adrian could come up with more than one hundred thousand dollars on his own without accessing company funds. He's got access to plenty of money in our joint account. Unfortunately, he likely has access to my personal account because who knows what things I signed my name and permission to when I was out of my mind. But I shouldn't have enough money in the account to pay a ransom.
“I'm not sure what good that would do.” I shrug, tilting my head to the side in consideration. “Considering the only person who would be able to pay my ransom is, well, me.”
Wyatt mimics me, tilting his head as well. “I'm sure you've got family who would be happy to pay it.”
“Nope. My parents are gone. I don't have any close relatives.”
He smiles. “Your friends would rally.”
“I have exactly one friend and she doesn't make ransom money.”
“Surely you have more than one,” he counters. “You're rich and friendly enough to have loads of friends.”
I stifle a laugh. “One, I'm not rich. I'm not poor, but I have always had to work. My Dad made really great business decisions and taught me well. And two, you have no idea how friendly I am.”
Shaun gives me a crooked smile. “You're friendly, baby. Don't pretend you aren't.”
I huff a breath, letting my shoulders sink with my heavy thoughts. “I don't think I can be friendly anymore. Besides, being friendly doesn't equate to having friends. I really do only have one friend and she really doesn't have any way to pay a ransom for me.”
Wyatt and Shaun exchange a look. I can do that with Regan, but we've had years to perfect it. “How long have you two known each other?” I ask.
They both look at me with their eyebrows raised but Wyatt answers. “Long enough. You're full of problems.”
I nod slowly. “I do bring plenty of trouble to the table. You could just cut me loose. I wouldn't rat you out. You haven't done anything horrible, other than trust my husband.”
“No,” Wyatt says.
“Why?”
“Because.” Wyatt looks back at Shaun but Shaun doesn't offer any help, he's too busy grinning back and forth between us. “What are you smiling about?”
Shaun shrugs. “I'm just enjoying myself. You're right, though. We can't cut her loose.”
“Why not?” I ask. “I'm far more interested in getting my life back on track than turning you in. Don't forget, you two essentially rescued me.”
“She actually could pay her own ransom,” Shaun muses. “We'd still get paid.”
“Outside,” Wyatt hisses. He's got his hand on the doorknob before he remembers that he probably shouldn't leave me unattended and unattached to something. He stalks back to me and leads me back into the living room to thread the free end of the handcuffs through the loop on the chair.
Shaun hands me the TV remote control before he follows Wyatt out onto the porch, a smile still spread firmly across his face.
I don't bother turning on the TV. I won't have a chance at overhearing the conversation on the porch if the TV is on. It's useless, though. All I can make out are muffled tones as they go back and forth. After a few minutes of listening to their garbled conversation, or possibly their argument, they come back inside and stand in front of me. Wyatt pulls out his phone. “I'm calling your husband. We'll see how badly he wants you back.”
I watch him dial the numbers and put the call on speakerphone, and it takes every drop of willpower I possess to stop myself from jumping when Adrian answers.
“Hello?”
