by Rachel Woods
Glaring at the woman, Spencer nodded. Whoever the woman was, she led the vicious trio, exercising and asserting absolute control and authority over the men. Despite their formidable size and bulk, the men were under the complete direction and control of the woman.
“Let’s make this quick,” the woman said. “Don’t have a lot of time. Don’t want your sister to come back and catch us, because if she does, I’ll have to put a bullet in her, understand?”
Dejected, realizing she would have to pray Shady wouldn’t return soon, Spencer picked up the pen with trembling fingers.
“All right, start with Dear Sione,” said the woman.
Dear Sione? Spencer wrote the words, knowing they weren’t right. A letter from her would begin Dear John. She had never called John by his given Tongan name. As the woman continued to dictate lies John would never believe, a spark of hope flared. Dear Sione was actually the best way to start the letter. If these people succeeded in kidnapping her and left the note behind for John to find, he would know she hadn’t written the letter of her own free will. As soon as he read Dear Sione, John would know something wasn’t right.
“Okay, now sign the letter,” said the woman minutes later, once she’d finished the dictation. “And fold the letter in half.”
After complying, Spencer stared at the woman. “Listen, you don’t have to kidnap me.”
“If I want my fee, I do,” the woman said, smiling.
“Your fee?” Spencer felt her blood grow cold. Someone was paying the woman to kidnap her. But who? The same man who’d told that bastard Tommy Fong to kidnap her and hold her hostage in that shack in the middle of the jungle? The man who had been referred to as the devil? What was his name?
“Not exactly a boatload of cash,” the woman said. “But I need the money.”
“Whatever you are being paid,” Spencer said, panicked, terrified of being kidnapped again as the nightmare she’d endured in Belize flashed in her mind. “Sione will double it. He’ll triple it.”
“Get her and let’s go.”
“No, wait.” Spencer struggled as the man with the mustache grabbed her, yanking her to her feet. “You can’t do this! You can’t—”
Behind her, something cold and hard pressed against her neck, and she sobbed, knowing it was the gun, horrified by thoughts of bullets slamming into her body, killing the—
A painful jolt of something electric and mind-numbing passed through her body in a sizzling wave. Her muscles useless, she felt her body go limp as a suffocating darkness engulfed her.
32
Houston, Texas
St. Paul Baptist Church
Sione was anxious, ready to get the show on the road.
He was ready to marry Spencer and get started on the rest of their lives together.
He couldn’t imagine what was taking so long.
The flower girls—his second cousins, Keisha, India, and Maggie—had come down the aisle, throwing frangipani petals. And then the bridesmaids—Rae and two of Spencer’s cousins—escorted by the groomsmen, four of Sione’s cousins.
Everyone was in place.
Except the bride-to-be. Shouldn’t Spencer be walking down the aisle right about now? Arm in arm with Shady, who was going to give her away?
Exhaling slowly, Sione told himself not to worry or panic.
He turned his head a bit and sort of side-glanced at his mother. Sitting in the first pew on the groom’s side, Carmen looked as though she was at a funeral, but he wasn’t surprised. She didn’t like Spencer, didn’t think Spencer was the right woman for him, thought he was making the biggest mistake of his life.
The same opinions pretty much most of his family held.
He’d tried to convince his family to give Spencer a chance. She was a loving, caring woman, and most importantly, she loved him unconditionally. His family couldn’t see past their unwavering opinions of her. In their eyes, she was a scheming woman who had gotten pregnant on purpose and was using the baby to trap him. Eventually, Sione had given up trying to change his family’s attitudes and beliefs.
Being with Spencer made him happy. He wasn’t backing down from his decision to marry her just because she wasn’t the woman his family wanted him to be with. Didn’t matter what his family wanted. He wanted Spencer because, even with all her imperfections, she was flawless to him.
Behind his back, his family had predicted his marriage to Spencer would be his biggest mistake. His cousin Micah had confessed that the family had dubbed the upcoming wedding “the disaster,” as in “Are you going to the disaster?” The rumor was, according to Truman, there was some betting going on about how long the marriage would last. The odds were basically slim to none—six to seven months, if that long.
Sione had been pissed when he found out, but the anger was just a cover for hurt and sadness.
Bitterness was easier to express than sullen disappointment. He’d been wary of admitting, especially to himself, how shaken he’d been by the way his family felt. Truman had predicted Spencer’s plan was to divorce him and leave him broke. Jared had agreed, though his predictions were more sinister. After divorcing him and taking all his money, Jared believed Spencer would disappear and hook up with the man she really wanted to be with—Ben Chang. Sione couldn’t get behind that idea.
Ben had sent Spencer to steal from him, not fall in love with him. There was no way Ben could have known he and Spencer would fall in love. No way Ben could have known Sione would propose and Spencer would accept.
If Ben had known, Sione knew Ben would have done whatever he could to stop it from happening.
As Sione stood, anxious and waiting, a strange apprehension assailed him, almost like a hovering apparition.
As he’d had several times before, Sione had the strangest feeling of gratitude toward Ben. If not for the scheme Ben had set in motion to find the envelope Moana had directed Peter to steal from Ben’s place in Jamaica, then Sione would never have met Spencer. In a sick, twisted way, he owed Ben this happiness he felt. He wouldn’t be marrying Spencer today, if not for Ben’s diabolical machinations.
Sione pushed away the weary, troubling thoughts. This was the happiest day of his life. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen was about to become his wife. In the next few minutes, they would vow to love and cherish each other until death did them part.
He wasn’t going to let anyone or anything ruin this day.
Not his family, with their tears of frustration and fake, half-hearted smiles.
And for damn sure not Ben Chang.
A moment later, the string quartet began a stirring version of Canon in D. The bridal entrance music, Sione remembered from the wedding rehearsals. The guests rose. Smiling, excited to finally see Spencer walking down the aisle toward him, Sione turned and—
His heart almost stopped.
33
Houston, Texas
St. Paul Baptist Church
At the end of the aisle, Shady stood in the vestibule, out of sight of the guests, beckoning Sione toward her.
Confused, and trying not to worry, Sione frowned. He couldn’t see Shady’s features clearly, but the frantic tension in her gestures made his heart pound and his gut twist. What was she trying to tell him? Why did she want him to come to her? What was going on? Where was Spencer? Why wasn't Spencer standing next to Shady?
Wary, Sione glanced at DJ, and then at Rae and Spencer’s cousins, looking for reassurance, something rational and calm in their gazes, but the wedding party seemed perplexed and worried, as well.
“What’s the matter?” DJ whispered.
“What’s going on?” Rae demanded, voice lowered as she sidestepped closer to Sione.
“I’m going to find out,” Sione whispered to them.
“So am I,” Rae announced.
“Me too,” said DJ.
“No, wait.” Sione faced them. “Just let me go. Stay here. We don’t need the guests worrying, which is what will happen if we all rush out of here.”
“The guests already know something is wrong,” Rae said as Spencer’s cousins crowded closer.
“She’s right,” DJ told him. “Aunt Carmen and my mom look suspicious.”
Ignoring the furtive glances and whispering of confused and anxious guests, Sione headed down the aisle, the wedding party on his heels. In the vestibule, the bridesmaids and groomsman rushed around Sione, leaving him in the rear. Rae and DJ converged upon Shady, shooting questions, terse whispers that made Sione think of suppressed gunfire. The apprehension he’d been trying to contain exploded into a mix of fear and anger. Desperate for answers, he pushed through DJ and Rae.
Shady grabbed Sione’s hand, alarm flickering across her features.
“What happened?” Sione demanded. “What’s the matter? Where is Spencer?”
“There’s something you need to see,” Shady said. “Upstairs. In the bride’s room.”
Ascending the stairs, Sione was seized by reluctance and anxiousness, haunted by the need to race ahead and pull back. He didn’t want to know what he needed to see, but he had to find out. Each step was a chore, like walking up a steep, slippery slope. Each step took him closer and closer to terror. Anticipation made his legs numb. Anguished, he feared that whatever awaited him was even worse than he could have ever imagined.
At the top of the stairs, Sione hesitated, staring at the wide-open door at the end of the hall. Besieged by terror, he tried to defeat the horror his mind conjured, images of Spencer lying on the floor—
“You want me to go in first?” DJ asked.
Startled, Sione was confused, not sure how to answer his cousin. A dull roar seemed to rush through his head, making it hard to think, or hear, or understand what was happening. He wasn’t sure what happened, but he knew that, right now, nothing made sense. Everything was wrong. It was like he was trapped in a nightmare, and he just needed to wake up. If he could wake up, then everything would be okay. Everything would be as it was supposed to be. Once he woke up, he would be standing at the altar, and Spencer would be walking toward him. But first he had to wake up and had to find his way out of this nightmare.
“Spencer,” Rae called out, hurrying past Sione as Shady tried to stop the brash, determined maid of honor, but Rae ignored Shady’s plea and once again, spurred by Rae’s assertiveness, the wedding party hurried down the hall and into the bridal room, leaving Sione behind.
Frustrated, Sione followed and moments later, he was in the room, glancing around, looking for Spencer amongst the lavender silk dresses and tuxedos, heartbroken and furious because he knew she wasn’t there. Not anymore.
“Sione…” Shady broke free from the crowd, grabbed his hand, and pulled him to the dressing table.
“Here…” she said and picked up a piece of paper the size of a greeting card, folded in half.
Sione glanced at the folded paper, apprehensive, averse to touching it, not wanting to open it, afraid the words, whatever they were, would confirm that the nightmare was real. And he wasn’t going to wake up.
“What is that? What does it say?” The wedding party crowded around him, demanding answers. “Is it from Spencer?”
“Can y’all just give him a moment, please?” Shady implored.
“No, not when our sister is—” Rae stopped, and for a moment, she seemed unable to catch her breath. “What does the damn note say?”
A spark of anger flared within him, realizing they would refuse him the privacy he craved. Sione wanted to read the note alone first, so he could process it, but he could forget about that. He had a frantic audience, demanding information, and maybe they deserved to know. They were worried about Spencer, too. Without further hesitation, Sione unfolded the note. Heart slamming, he stared at the letters, words, and sentences. The note made no sense, but Sione understood exactly what had happened.
“What does it say?” Rae asked with barely contained hysteria.
Shaken, Sione looked up from the note. Staring at the tense, anxious faces of the bridal party, he said, “Call the cops. Somebody took Spencer.”
34
Location Unknown
Sitting up in the bed, Spencer struggled to think, to remember exchanging vows with John, but her mind was blank. She didn’t recall walking down the aisle with Shady or taking her place next to John, holding hands with him as the minister performed the ceremony while hundreds of family and friends looked on.
Rubbing her eyes, slightly sickened by the stickiness in her mouth covering a tongue that seemed too thick and heavy, Spencer fought to clear the fog from her mind.
Did she have too much to drink at the wedding reception? But she didn’t remember the reception either. Didn’t remember the first dance with her husband or feeding each other cake or any of the corny but sweet toasts from DJ and Rae and Shady. God, why couldn’t she remember anything? And where was John?
Spencer called out to him, but her voice was weak and hoarse, a whispery croak.
Maybe he was getting coffee or ordering room service or passed out on the couch in the living room of the hotel suite. Obviously, they had partied very hard. It must have been an epic reception that had lasted all night and into the wee hours of the next day. Maybe, exhausted and half-conscious from their celebration, they’d had to be carried to their suite by the bridal party.
Somehow, that didn’t make sense. They had planned to honeymoon in Hawaii for the first week, and then they would enjoy another week of newly wedded bliss on the island where John had spent the latter part of his teenage years. After the reception, they were going to head straight to Hooks Airport and board the private chartered jet that would fly them to paradise.
Invaded by a sudden giddiness, she glanced at her left hand, anxious to gaze at the enduring, unbreakable symbol of the love between her and John.
Her stomach flipped and then seemed to plummet.
Focusing on the third finger, her heart slammed.
There was no wedding ring.
Rolling onto her stomach, Spencer scrambled to her hands and knees in the middle of the bed and then turned in a circle, taking in her surroundings. She was in a large bedroom suite, ornately and luxuriously furnished and appointed. There was a wall of French doors to her left. A chandelier hung from a double-tray ceiling. There was a sitting area with two full-sized couches. A fireplace. Double doors that led to…what? Where the hell was she? Crawling to the foot of the bed, she scooted onto the tufted settee and then stood.
A wave of dizziness assailed her, nauseating her, and she sat back down on the settee, taking a few deep breaths and rubbing her stomach. “It’s okay, little one,” she said, though she didn’t really think so, and she doubted the baby was fooled. After a few more breaths, she attempted to stand again. The swimming in her head dissipated, and she took a tentative, halting step toward the French doors. Beyond them, outside, there was a dense tangle of bushes. The trees were so thick it was hard to see the sun, but there was enough light to tell that it was daytime.
Her mind felt thick and fuzzy. Memories sharpened, then blurred, and then became clearer but seemed to make no sense. Reality seemed to blend into fantasy, and for a few seconds, she wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or fully awake.
Spencer tried to open the French doors, but they were all locked. Turning, she walked to the double doors, which she assumed led out of the suite. Once there, she grabbed the right knob, twisted it, and opened the door.
Outside the bedroom suite was a long hallway. She walked to the end, passing several console tables and framed paintings on the wall, and found herself at a crossroads. Another main hall ran perpendicular to the hall she’d just walked down, traversing left and right. Spencer glanced right and saw that the hall ended, and at the end was a console table with a vase of fresh flowers. She looked left. The hall extended about ten or fifteen feet before it gave way to another corridor.
Growing more worried, Spencer cradled her stomach and went left, following the hallway. Determined to figure out where she was and how the hell
she’d gotten there, she picked up the pace. Terrified and confused, she looked over her shoulder every now and then as she walked along the seemingly endless hallways.
Questions plagued her, but what she wanted to know most of all was where was John? And why did she have the sickening feeling that he wasn’t here with her? Panicked, tears threatening, she walked faster, and after turning another corner, she found herself in a large living area, some sort of den or family room. There were two large couches facing each other, and in the four corners of the room, there were sitting areas, each one with two recliners separated by a small round table.
Spencer inched toward one of the couches, realizing her feet were bare as she moved across the cool hardwood floor. Why was she barefoot? What had happened to her shoes? And her dress? She looked down at herself. She was wearing her slip.
Pulse racing, Spencer sank down onto the couch and then leaned back against the cool, soft leather, trying to think, trying to remember. Where was she? How had she gotten to this place? Whatever this place was. Some kind of house. A large house. But a large house…where?
“Well, well, well…black beauty finally woke up. Did you sleep okay?” The question came from a female voice behind her.
Spencer jumped and then looked over her shoulder.
She knew the woman standing in front of her. No, that wasn’t right. She didn’t know the woman. She had no idea who the woman was, but she recognized her. She recalled the sultry, sly dark eyes, the long, glossy black hair, and the lips that curved into a smug smirk. She had seen the woman before.
It was the woman who’d been in her bridal chamber.
“Who are you?” Spencer asked. “Where the hell am I?”
