by Kay Marie
She would live.
The pump clicked, signaling the tank was full. As she looked up to place the nozzle back in its holster, three things happened all at once. Thad walked out of the mini-mart with a booklet tucked under his elbow. The man at the pump across the way turned and did a double take, eyes going wide. And Addy let go. This little adventure, as messed up and dangerous as it might be, was the only one she had—she wasn’t ready to lose it just yet.
What would Bonnie do? she thought, returning to Thad’s earlier comment. If she were someone else, not Addison Abbot, but someone brave, what would she do? And then it hit her. WWBD? Not what would Bonnie do, but what would Britney do—she’d go full “Toxic.”
“David!” Addy shouted, not thinking, just doing. “David!”
Thad glanced up at the sound of her voice, brows twisting into a knot. Then his gaze slid to the side, toward the man still staring in his direction—the man starting to lift his cell phone higher and higher, as though to snap a pic.
Addy was having an out-of-body experience—no, an out-of-Britney experience. One thought circled her brain. Hide his face. Hide his face. Hide his face.
So she did.
She marched up, grabbed hold of his cheeks, and hid Thad’s face…with her own. At first he stiffened, taken off guard. But then he wrapped his arm around her waist, dug his fingers into her hair, and kissed her more thoroughly than she’d ever been kissed before.
- 13 -
Thad
She tasted like summer rain, unexpected and refreshing, the sort of storm that made Thad want to run barefoot on the beach, lift his face to the sky, and smile with all the possibilities—a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. The world slipped away as he chased after the elixir in her lips, hungry and demanding, as though if he tried hard enough he could steal some of that magical positivity bubbling beneath her skin.
Addison sighed against his lips as he gripped the back of her head, tilting it toward him. Her fingers crept into his hair, nails scraping hungrily over his scalp as she pulled him closer. Thad wrapped his arm around the small of her back in a vicelike embrace, leaving no air between them. She melted against him, full breasts pressing into his chest, body as soft and voluptuous as he’d imagined. He gripped tighter, sliding his tongue between the folds of her lips. She gasped. He swallowed the sound and—
Beeeeeep!
“Get a room,” a gruff voice called. “You’re blocking my car.”
Thad snapped his head back, but no other bit of him moved. He couldn’t do anything but stare at Addison, at her slightly swollen lips, at the attractive pink flush enlivening her cheeks, at the sexy daze hiding beneath her hooded eyes. She was so goddamn beautiful it hurt—because he knew, whatever this was, it was fleeting.
Beep! Beep!
“Come on!”
Thad swiveled his head and took a step back, keeping his hands on Addison’s hips—to help steady her, of course—as he met the man’s gaze. Well, he’s no longer suspicious. Pissed, maybe, but not suspicious.
“Sorry,” Thad called out smoothly. He shrugged and lifted the edge of his lips into a self-satisfied yet apologetic grin, angling for a sort of boy’s club understanding. “We’re on our way to Vegas to elope. She can’t keep her hands off me!”
Addison immediately came back to life. Thad barely managed to jump back before her hand came swinging for his cheek. He wasn’t sure if she was acting or not, but either way, it helped.
He turned toward the man and rolled his eyes, muttering, “Women.”
The man laughed, easing up on his tense body language, as they shared a look of brotherhood. Mission accomplished.
“Anyway, sorry again.” Thad capitalized on his moment of victory.
“No trouble at all,” the man said. “She’s a good woman. Hold on to her.”
Funny how he’d managed to surmise all of that from an overtly public display of affection and a near slap in the face, but that was an amazing thing about people, a little trick Thad had learned over time—never overshare. Give people just enough information to ease their minds and then let them do the rest. The most convincing stories were the ones people came up with on their own.
“I intend to.”
The words came out believable.
A little too believable.
Thad pushed that concern aside as he bent down to retrieve the maps that had fallen to the ground and then hastily got out of the way, tossing the man a wave like old friends before returning to his car. Addison was in the midst of a panic attack when he hopped inside.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes!” she squeaked.
He stifled his smile. “You sure?”
“Mm-hmm.” She nodded, lips folded over and pressed together as she stared straight ahead.
“That was good thinking, quick thinking,” he said as he eased back onto the road, following the directions he’d memorized before he’d left the mini-mart. “You saved our asses.”
Silence.
He glanced to the side. Addison sat with one arm hugging her waist and the other bent so she cupped her face with her palm. She was half turned away, hiding behind her fingers now that she didn’t have her long hair to act as a curtain. In the side mirror, he caught a brief glimpse of the panic in her eyes.
It was just a kiss, he wanted to say. No big deal. Don’t worry about it. It meant nothing. The words wouldn’t come. They sat heavy in his gut, a stubborn safe that wouldn’t unlock, an iron weight that had sunk to the bottom of the sea. So instead, like the asshole he was, Thad said, “You need to loosen up.”
“What?” She spun, a little fire in her gaze. But he’d rather she be pissed at him than freaked out with herself. People were angry with him all the time—he was used to it. He preferred it.
“You need to loosen up,” he repeated, the hint of a challenge.
“I’m loose,” she said, sitting up straighter, the opposite of loose.
He arched a brow. “Are you, though?”
“I just kissed you!” she charged.
“And look what happened,” he tossed back. “You’re freaking out.”
“I’m not.”
He didn’t acknowledge that with a response.
“Okay, I was,” Addison admitted softly. “But not about that. Not entirely about that, anyway. I just…”
“What?” he asked, not mocking or teasing or jabbing, honestly curious now that he’d broken through her panic.
She sighed. “The past twenty-four hours have been a lot to process. I know for you, this is normal. But for me, this is…a lot.”
He stared at her, almost able to see the walls closing in. Thad understood. He put on a good front, as any good con man should, but deep down, he was just as torn, just as unsure, just as confused as she was. Maybe that was why he said, “Scream.”
“Huh?”
“Scream.” He found her gaze and held it until she understood he wasn’t joking. “Take everything that’s bundled up inside you, and let it go. Yell it out. You’ll feel better.”
“That’s—” She shook her head. “No, I can’t.”
“Why not?” he challenged. “Who’s going to know? Me? I’m the one who told you to do it.” Addison continued to watch him blankly. He rolled his eyes and flicked on the radio, then turned it up as loud as possible. “Now I won’t hear!”
“What?” she shouted back.
“Just scream!”
“I can’t!”
“You can! I’ll show you!”
He regretted the offer immediately, but she stared at him, expectant, like a bird afraid to fly, hoping he’d help her find her wings.
Dammit.
Nerves prickled beneath his skin, little static shocks. Thad looked straight ahead, trying to forget Addison was in the car with him, pretending he was alone. He’d never done this in front of someone else before, not even Jo. It had always been his little secret, a coping mechanism he only used behind closed doors. When his mother l
eft, his father told him to be strong, that they were better off without her, that she’d never loved either of them anyway. And Jo, well, Jo had been so sorry, so sad for him, she’d tiptoed around like a bundle of nerves, not sure what to do, what to say. He’d had to smile for her, for his dad, to show them nothing was wrong, to prove to the world that he couldn’t be broken. But at night, alone, when missing her became too much, he’d roll over beneath the blankets, dig his face into the pillow, and scream until his throat went raw. For a few years, things got better. He grew up. He learned how to compartmentalize. The pain became a dull ache that was easier to ignore. Then his father died, those men showed up in his dorm, and his life derailed. The screaming returned. Not every night. Just sometimes, when the weight of the world became too heavy to bear.
The hurt was always there waiting for release. All he needed to do was open the floodgates and the tide came rushing forward. The job for the Degas. The deal with the Russians. Robert’s death. Jo’s new life. The Feds. The stories on the news. The things people said. Mostly, the fact that once he was gone, no one would miss him, not even Jo. Because he was going to let her down. He was going to disappoint her. And then he would well and truly be alone. The fate he’d been running from since the moment his mom had walked out that door would finally catch up.
Thad screamed, loudly and with abandon, until claws scraped at his throat, the monster inside fighting to be free. Then he stopped and turned to Addison.
Her bright aqua eyes swirled with understanding, the windows to a soul that was just as lonely as his, just as aching. She didn’t move. Neither did he. And yet, he felt as though she’d reached out and touched him in a tangible, impossible embrace. Time stopped for a brief and fleeting moment. Everything went quiet—
“We’re interrupting this broadcast,” a voice blared over the radio, “to bring you a breaking news update.”
Thad whipped his face forward, tearing his gaze away as heat spiked down his chest. There was no moment, no pause, no deep cosmic connection. The music had turned off because the station had switched to a breaking news announcement—and he had a feeling he knew which one.
“We’ve just received word from law enforcement in Riverbend, South Carolina, that a local girl, Addison Mary Abbot, has gone missing. Her kidnapper is believed to be con man Thaddeus Ryder, who is wanted in connection with the Edgar Degas painting stolen from a private townhome in New York City two weeks ago, valued at over twenty million dollars. He is a known associate of the Russian mafia and is believed to be armed and extremely dangerous. If you have any information on their whereabouts, please contact your local police immediately or call this number to speak directly with the FBI hotline. Nine—”
Addison reached out and turned off the radio.
Thad swallowed. “Guess the story broke. It was only a matter of time.”
She dropped her hand back to her lap, not speaking.
Thad cast concerned glances in her direction, switching between the road and her pursed lips, the road and her darkening irises, the road and her wringing fingers, the road and—
“Is that what’s in the back seat?”
Not the first question he’d expected. A lie rose to his lips, false and easy to dole out, but he paused. There was a rawness in her tone that silently demanded answers. Not through hysterics or threats, but through an honesty that silently pleaded for nothing more than simple honesty in return. So Thad did what he’d said he wouldn’t, because she’d trusted him with her life, and for that, he could give her the truth. She deserved it. And he was so damn sick of lying. “Yes.”
“A Degas?”
“Yes.”
“Worth twenty million dollars?”
Thad squinted. “Actually, I think they undervalued it. I’d probably guess closer to thirty.”
Addison turned to gape at him.
“What? You asked.”
The gape shifted to a glower. “Why did you take it?”
“Because I could.” Her frown deepened and her gaze turned pointed. Thad sighed. “Because I had a debt to pay.”
“To the…” Addison gulped. “Russian mob?”
“Yes.”
“What debt?”
Thad groaned internally, rolling the words around his tongue, not sure what to say. “It’s…complicated.”
“Jo said you made a deal with them to save her life.”
Of course she did. He sighed. “I guess it’s not that complicated.”
“Why did they want to kill her?”
“Because she was important to me,” Thad murmured, hating how true those words rang. If not for him, if not for his father, Jo might have had a normal life. A safe one. “And to her father, Robert, my mentor. They needed us. So, they threatened her to get to us.”
“Why did they need you?”
Thad drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, darting his gaze to the mirrors, out the windows, anywhere and everywhere but toward her. Even though he was speeding down the highway at seventy miles an hour, for the first time in his life, he felt stuck—well and truly trapped with nowhere to run. “That I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
He finally met her probing gaze. “Because I won’t put you in more danger than you already are.”
Half-true. The more he told her, the more vulnerable she’d be once all of this was over. But that wasn’t the whole reason. The other reason, the bigger reason, was because he’d never spoken about it before, not even to Robert. Oh, they’d gotten the jobs done. They’d forged bank bonds and foreign bills, made counterfeit passports, copied signatures on all sorts of documents. They’d stolen paintings to be used as collateral, sometimes leaving expertly crafted copies in their place so the authorities were none the wiser. They’d overheard words in Russian during their illicit meetings, about illegal arms deals and human trafficking and money laundering. They’d done all those things. There was no denying it. But they’d had an unwritten rule to never talk about what they were doing, to keep their heads down and power through and pretend. Acknowledging the truth was sort of like staring into the sun—one wrong look and he’d go blind.
Thad didn’t want to see.
He didn’t want to know.
He wanted to forget it and move on.
But he couldn’t.
Looking into her eyes was like gazing into a clear blue sky, bright and burning, nowhere left to hide. She saw him—saw through him. Yet she didn’t turn away in fear or shame or loathing. She didn’t run. She turned on the radio, laced her fingers through his, squeezed with all her might, and screamed.
- 14 -
Addison
It did feel better to let it out. He was right. Addy thought about her life, her unchased dreams and her unspoken fears, all the loneliness and aching she hid from the world. She thought about the men who’d stormed into the cake shop, about what Edie’s face must have looked like when she found the bodies, about her parents the moment they realized she’d gone missing. Addy thought about her sister, whom she loved deep down even if they didn’t always get along, about how guilty and sorry and afraid the bravest woman she knew must be in this moment, knowing Addy had called for help and all she’d done was argue. Then she thought about Thad. About everything he’d told her. About all the things she was slowly starting to recall from the news. About all the very many reasons trusting him was a bad idea. But mainly, she thought about the voice in her head whispering none of it mattered.
Addy screamed.
And squeezed the warm hand enveloping hers.
Then screamed some more.
After a few seconds, she caught her reflection in the side mirror, mouth open wide, eyes scrunched, an adult in the middle of a tantrum, and the sound shifted. The heavy weight was lifted and suddenly she was laughing. Because they looked and sounded ridiculous. This whole situation was ridiculous. And if this had been happening at any other time, with any other person, she would have been terrified. But right now, here, with him, she felt seen an
d understood and not so alone. So she laughed until tears streamed down her face and silence slowly fell.
Addy wiped her cheeks and turned, finding his gaze. Thad was smiling, but through the grin, she saw all the broken bits he tried to hide, all the secret fears his scream had revealed. The edges of his eyes were crinkled, but not with mirth, with wariness, as though he were worried about what she would say next. Would she ask the question he feared? Would he tell her the truth? Did she really want to know?
No, Addy thought. She didn’t want to know the specifics of all the horrible things he might have done. No good could come from it. She didn’t need those answers—she already had the most important one. When those men walked into her bakery, Addy had stared evil in the face. She knew what it looked like, the way they had threatened her with no hint of remorse, the murderous glint in their eyes. She knew. And right now, looking in Thad’s eyes, she saw none of that. She saw shame, the edge of a razor blade cutting deep, and she knew he wasn’t a bad person—he was a person who’d done bad things. The distinction was important.
“Tell me more about Paris,” she said, relaxing into her seat and closing her eyes. Addy left her hand exactly where it was, wrapped tightly in his.
“Paris, huh?” he murmured, a little teasing. But this time, she read the thank you in his voice, because she was beginning to understand him, beginning to see the vulnerable man hiding beneath the criminal. Maybe that was his greatest con of all—to fool the world into believing he was heartless.
“Are the French really jerks?”
He barked out a laugh, loud, almost like a release, and his muscles relaxed. They were no longer clutching each other, but simply holding hands, comfortable and loose. See? she thought, edge of her lip quirking. I can be loose.
“Some of them are jerks,” he answered thoughtfully. “But they’re much nicer when you speak French.”
“You speak French?” Addy asked, opening her eyes to turn and look at him.
“Oui, bien sûr.” He shrugged, nonchalant, but quickly gave the game away as a dimple dug into his cheek. “N’est-ce pas?”
