Rumor Has It: A Bad Boy Romantic Comedy (33 page)

BOOK: Rumor Has It: A Bad Boy Romantic Comedy
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Luke

 

 

 

“Where the fuck is she, Trent?”

“Calm down. We need to think.”

How was I supposed to calm down? Genevieve had been taken by someone. My first thought was Val. It had to be her. But did she have enough time to kidnap Gen after I’d left her at the bank?

I cursed myself for walking home. I should have left and immediately gone to Genevieve. None of this would have happened if I’d included her from the beginning. But I knew she would object to paying off her mother. She never would have let me go through with it.

“I’ve been so stupid, so shortsighted,” I said. “This is all my fault.”

“Stop,” Trent said. “You can’t do this right now. You can’t beat yourself up. We need to focus on the task at hand. First, who took her? It had to be Val, right?”

I looked down at my hands. I was clutching Genevieve’s blood-stained dress. She was hurt. Val had actually hurt her. It was hard to believe.

“Luke, are you listening?”

I looked up at him blankly. He took the dress from me with effort. I didn’t want to hand it over. He held the dress up to the light and examined it closely. His eyes narrowed.

“What is it?” I said.

He brought the dress to his face and smelled it.

“What are you doing?”

“This isn’t blood. It smells sweet, like syrup.”

I grabbed the dress back from him and looked at it closely. He was right. Up close it smelled sickly sweet.

“They’re fucking with you, bro. They want you to think they’ve hurt her. Wherever she is she’s fine.”

“She’s not fine. She wouldn’t leave on her own free will.”

“No, you’re right. They took her. Look, I’ve got a buddy who owes me a favor. I’ll have him look into Val and Genevieve’s credit cards. If they’ve been used recently, we’ll no where they are.”

“They won’t be using them.”

“Why?”

“Because I paid Val off in cash.”

Trent took a deep breath. “How much?”

“Fifteen million dollars.”

He looked away, but said nothing.

“You’re not going to tell me what a fucking idiot I am?” I asked.

“No, because we’re both fucking idiots. I paid her off too.”

“What? Why?”

“On orders from my old man. You’re too valuable to the company to lose. He authorized me to pay her off. I thought if I made her go away you’d snap out of this depression. You’re like a zombie and your work has suffered. My dad told me to do whatever I had to do to make you happy. I thought this would fix things. I should have listened to you when you told me to stay out of it. All I’ve done is make things worse.”

“This isn’t your fault. This is on me. I underestimated Val at every turn. Now it’s hopeless.”

“It’s not hopeless. They’ll turn up eventually and when they do we’ll get Genevieve back. Obviously, she’s of some value to them. The note says, ‘Expect us.’ Maybe we should just wait until they get in contact with us. Then we’ll have a better sense of the situation.”

Absently, I nodded. I didn’t want to wait, but what could I do? I had no idea where they were.

“I’m going to call my buddy just in case,” Trent said. “Maybe they’ll slip up and we’ll find out where they are.”

“Yeah.”

He patted me on the back and left to make the call.

 

Genevieve

 

I swam until my muscles were cramped and stiff with pain, then I swam some more. The distance between the yacht and the shore was further than I thought. Luckily, I’m a strong swimmer.

The water was calm, though a bit on the chilly side. It seemed to gradually get warmer as I approached the shore. A wave broke over me. I relaxed and let it push me to the beach. I only rested for a few seconds before I had to start swimming again, but it was a blessing. My tired muscles had reached their breaking point.

The water grew shallow enough for me to stand. I tried to walk the remaining distance, but the waves were too strong. I let them carry me to shore. I crawled on hands and knees to the beach, then collapsed. The surf rolled in around me as I tried to catch my breath.

Two kids making sandcastles stared at me. I smiled weakly and pushed myself up.

I wore a long black dress and no shoes. Absently, I wondered what happened to the dress I’d been wearing before my abduction. I recognized the dress I was wearing as belonging to my mother. She must have changed my clothes for some reason.

I rose on trembling legs. The dress clung to me wetly. I turned to look out to sea. A small boat was being lowered from the yacht. It wouldn’t take long for them to reach the beach and force me to go back.

I took a step towards the kids. There was a beach bag with sunglasses sitting next to them. I looked around. A woman with long dark hair was speaking animatedly with another woman at a drink stand. They weren’t paying any attention to us.

“Is that your mother?” I asked.

They looked at each other blankly, then responded in Spanish.

“Tu madre?” I asked, feeling stupid. My high school Spanish was basically useless.

The boys responded speaking quickly. I didn’t understand what they were saying. I was running out of time. I needed to get off the beach. I grabbed the beach bag and dumped it out. The boys started to protest.

“Your mother won’t mind if I borrow her things,” I said.

A long, white beach cover up dress fell out into the sand along with a pair of flip-flops and a towel. I did my best to dry off, then slipped the dress over my head. I pulled the wet dress beneath it down and stepped out of it. I left it behind and slid on the flip flops. I noticed a small wad of cash had fallen out of the folded towel. I picked it up. I recognized the currency as Euros. I hated to steal, but I was desperate.

In Spanish, I asked the boys what their name was. As soon as this was over I’d send their mother the money I’d taken.

I put my finger to my lips and made a shushing sound, then pointed to the approaching boat. I didn’t know how to ask them to keep quiet if anyone asked questions.

“Silencio,” I said, pointing back out to sea.

They nodded. I wasn’t sure if they understood me, but I had to hope they did.

I took off blindly. The cliffs surrounding the beach were covered in homes- all of which had paths leading to the beach. I wasn’t sure how to get to the street. I followed a stone path up a twisting flight of stairs that led to a small garden. A man tending the flowers looked up at me. I waved and smiled awkwardly, then quickly followed a path to a gate. I pushed the iron bars open with a loud squeak. The sound was loud enough to wake the dead. If the men from the yacht were on my tail, they surely heard it.

I had no time to waste. I needed to get to a phone.

I raced away from the house onto a busy street. A woman on a moped passed within inches of me, nearly hitting me. The near miss left me rattled. Where was I? Spain, I assumed. My mother said we were going to the Mediterranean. A lot of countries had coasts on the Mediterranean, but I was pretty sure I was in Spain.

I had no idea what to do. I was in a foreign country with no passport and thirty Euros to my name. Suddenly, my right calf muscle spasm-ed painfully. I bent over to massage it. I was exhausted, not only from the swim, but the drugs. The afternoon light cut through my head painfully. I felt hung-over.

Panic started to set in. I didn’t have enough money for a cab or a hotel room. What was I going to do? I took a breath and tried to think. I needed to lay low.

I walked down the street and tried not to look suspicious. There were several bars and restaurants along the way, all of which were teeming with tourists. That was good. I could blend in. Hopefully, Val’s minions would lose me on the busy street.

I slipped into a tapas bar. The place was packed. A woman behind the bar gestured to a seat in the back. I pushed my way through the crowd and sat. A server came over and handed me a menu. He glanced at my wet hair and baggy dress, then asked me what I wanted to drink in Spanish.

“Just water- agua,” I said.

“Water it is,” he replied in English.

I flipped through the menu, pretending to read it. I was too distracted. I couldn’t concentrate. The server returned with a bottle of mineral water and a wine glass.

“What would you like?” he asked.

“Could I use your phone?”

He gave me a disapproving look. “This is a bar. Are you going to order? If not-”

“No, I’ll order.”

I opened the menu and stared at it. Finally, he said: “Can I make a suggestion?”

“Please. Just bring me whatever you think I’ll like.”

“Very well.”

He took the menu from me.

“As long as it’s cheap,” I added.

“Cheap?”

“I don’t have much money.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said with a disapproving look.

I took a sip of mineral water and kept my eyes on the window. I had a clear view of the street, though I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. Had my mother come after me herself or had she sent Carmine and the men on the yacht to fetch me? I scanned the crowd for anyone suspicious. No one stood out. Most people looked like tourists enjoying the warm weather.

I had to get to a phone, but first I needed to buy an international calling card. This area looked like a tourist hotspot. I was willing to bet I’d be able to find a calling card easily. I just needed to lay low for a while and hope my mother couldn’t find me.

Luke

 

 

 

I sat staring at the rug. A large dark stain and an empty glass rested on the floor. When I first saw the stain my mind immediately went to a dark place. I thought it was blood. I couldn’t breathe. If they hurt Genevieve, I would kill them.

Then I saw the glass and realized it was a spilled drink. I picked it up and examined it. A small amount of liquid was still inside. It smelled sickeningly sweet, like rotted fruit. I couldn’t identify the smell. It was odd, almost medicinal like cough syrup.

The puzzle pieces were starting to fall into place. They’d drugged her; I was sure of it. Somehow, Val had convinced her to have a drink and once she was unconscious they left behind her dress with the ‘blood stain’ on it. They thought I’d fall for it. I almost had. If Trent hadn’t seen through their charade, I would have believed it all.

He was handling this much better than I was. He was calm and methodical. He started calling in favors and asking questions. I was a mess. I swung between being furious and terrified for Genevieve and our baby.

It was then it hit me: this was exactly what Val wanted. She wanted me to be so upset that I wouldn’t be able to function. I’d act rashly and make foolish decisions. I was playing right into her hand. I had to take back control somehow. I took a deep breath and tried to focus. I did my best to push my rage and fear to the back of my mind.

Trent walked back into the room with a smile on his face.

“What?” I said. “Did you find something?”

“I found a lead. They cashed the company check I wrote them at a bank downtown. The money was then transferred to an account overseas.”

“And?”

“And the name on the account was Dr. Carmine Rossi.”

“Her plastic surgeon.”

“Right. I checked into it and the guy owns several properties through LLCs. It’s all a bit shady, but the best I can tell, he owns two places downtown, vacation homes in London, Berlin, Vancouver and Ibiza. He also owns a yacht. Who knew plastic surgery paid that well?”

I ignored his joke. “Those are huge cities. Genevieve could be anywhere, especially if they’re on the yacht.” 

“They have to be here in the city.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I checked into it and they haven’t used their passports.”

I shook my head. “No. They’re on the yacht. It makes sense. It would allow them to slip away without having to worry about leaving a paper trail behind. They can sail into different ports or stay at sea.”

“If they’re at sea, we’ll never find them.”

“No. We’ll have to hope they decided to spend some time on land. Vancouver and Ibiza are both on coasts. It has to be one of those cities.”

“It’s a coin toss,” Trent said. “Fifty-fifty odds.”

“They’re in Ibiza,” I said after thinking for a moment.

“How do you know?”

“It’s more fitting with Val’s personality. The beach, sand, surf, the ‘anything goes’ atmosphere- she’s there. I’m sure of it.”

My cell phone rang. I answered so quickly it didn’t get the chance to ring a second time.

“Where is she?” I said not wanting to waste any time.

My question was answered with a laugh. “Gigi’s here with me. We’re just enjoying a few drinks under the sun.”

“Let me talk to her.”

“No. She doesn’t want to talk.”

“What do you want?”

“We want you to live up to your responsibility. You’re going to be a father and certain financial obligations come along with that. For starters, a twenty million dollar wire transfer into my Swiss bank account.”

I gripped the phone so hard I nearly broke it. It pissed me off beyond belief the way Val was trying to frame this as something Genevieve wanted. She kept saying ‘we’ as if they’d planned this together. I knew Gen would never go along with this. Something was off. This had been staged like a kidnapping. They’d left a note that said ‘We have her. Expect us.’ Why all the sudden was Val trying to act like Genevieve was in on it? Something must have happened to change her plans.

“I’ll give you the money, but only if I can speak to Genevieve first.”

“Gigi’s unavailable at the moment. If you ever want to see your baby, you’ll give us the money.”

“No,” I said, calling her bluff.

I hung up the phone.

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