Squeeze Play

by Pierce, Nicolette

  “Yes, but you’re not a man who waits. You’re a man who goes out and gets what he wants.”

  “I’ve changed.”

  “Yes, in some ways you have. But not that much. Promise me.”

  “Promise what?”

  “Promise that you won’t wait.”

  His gray eyes looked into mine and darkened.

  “Promise,” I requested again.

  “I promise. Kiss on it?” A sly smile grew.

  One last kiss, I thought. He was such a temptation, even in our dirt prison. One last kiss and we can both move on. I pressed my lips to his. His uninjured arm wrapped around me, holding me in place. It was wonderful, warm, and safe . . . but it wasn’t Caleb. It sealed my decision. Greyson was everything I ever wanted, but he’s still not the man for me. With a mix of sadness, acceptance, and an eagerness to find Caleb and fix this mess, I broke the kiss and touched his cheek.

  Greyson’s eyes flicked up to the dirt ledge. I turned to find Frankie, Caleb, and Jessica staring down at us. Jessica was free of her pink tape, but she wasn’t the one who caused me to flinch. Caleb’s eyes were black, his hands clenched.

  Chapter 25

  We were all silent, staring at each other until voices in the distance broke through the awkwardness.

  “Nadia!” I heard Mya frantically calling. “Where is she?”

  “What are you doing here?” David’s voice came from a different direction.

  “I’m here to help Nadia!”

  “Where’s the pizza?” Muffin asked.

  “There’s no pizza!”

  “Then why am I here? I distinctively remember you saying there’d be pizza.”

  “I said Rizza.”

  “Rizza? How dare you show your face!” Muffin bellowed.

  Remy peered over the pit as arguing broke out all around. “Need help?”

  “How did you know we were here?” I asked.

  “David and I found Frankie trapped in the chapel, but we didn’t know what happened to you. Caleb rolled in looking for Jessica. We found her a couple of blocks down, wrapped in pink tape,” he said, looking pointedly at me.

  “Mya’s tape.”

  He gave a nod. “After we unwrapped her, she described your abductor. Frankie knew who it was immediately since she had attacked him too. We split up to look for you. Looks like we all had the same idea.”

  “What are Muffin and Mya doing here?” I asked.

  “I sent an emergency text to everyone,” Frankie said. “More eyes to search.”

  David stepped over and dangled a rope down. “Ladies first.”

  I glanced over at Fiona.

  “She can wait for the police,” Remy said.

  I quickly looped the rope and tied a knot. I slipped it over Greyson. “Let’s get you out first.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re a human pin cushion. Humor me.”

  Once Greyson was set, Remy pulled him out and then re-lowered the rope. Fiona blinked groggily and moaned. I picked up the shovel and tossed it out of the pit. No need to arm her with another weapon, and I had a strong urge to whack her with it again. I slipped the rope around me and held on tight while I was lifted out.

  Remy steered me away from the edge and into mayhem.

  David and Mya were arguing. Mark and Piñata had shown up at some point and were arguing with Frankie and Muffin.

  My head was splitting . . . and why was Jessica free?

  Remy escorted Greyson into the house.

  Caleb pierced me with a hard stare before turning on his heel.

  “Wait!” I called. “Caleb, wait!”

  He stopped but didn’t turn. I caught up with him, grasping his arm. He tugged free.

  “Don’t do this, Caleb. Don’t shut me out.”

  “It seems you made your choice,” he said with a steely edge.

  “I did.” He made an attempt to leave. “It’s you. Caleb, I love you. I want to be with you.”

  “Then why were you kissing Greyson?”

  “I . . .”

  “Don’t lie to me, Nadia. I don’t know what you want from me, but I’m tired of being strung along.”

  He stepped away.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He continued his path.

  “Can’t you forgive me?” I asked.

  No comment. He just kept walking.

  “You owe me a favor!” I shouted to his retreating form.

  He turned with a dark brow.

  “I want my favor.”

  “What’s the favor?” he asked with the same steely voice.

  “I want you to forgive me.”

  He shook his head and turned.

  “You owe me a marker,” I said, pleadingly. “You owe me this favor.”

  He stopped again and stood perfectly still. “I pride myself in paying off all markers, but I can’t do what you ask. Not this time.”

  “You didn’t pay either of my markers,” I stated. Anger, hurt, and panic swirled in my chest.

  “Jessica will have a check to you by tomorrow morning.”

  “She’s not going to jail?” I asked.

  “No, I’m not!” Jessica interrupted. “If you would have talked to me instead of hog-tying me, you’d know that I didn’t steal Caleb’s money.”

  “But you ran,” I said.

  “Because you were chasing me.”

  “What happened to the money?”

  “Adam transferred it into high-yielding accounts.”

  “But you both disappeared,” I said.

  “We were on our honeymoon. We didn’t have cell phone service,” she clipped. “We just returned today.”

  “Why didn’t anyone tell Caleb?”

  “I did!” She stared pointedly at him. His icy façade chipped under her judging eyes. “He never listens to me.”

  “Your brother didn’t know you were on your honeymoon,” I said, still not convinced. It would be easy to blame Caleb. He never listens to Jessica and everyone knows it.

  “My brother and I don’t talk. Adam and I eloped. It was very romantic.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ll stop by tomorrow with your check,” she snipped and tossed her long dark hair back.

  “I’m staying at Sergio’s,” I said numbly.

  “Text me the address,” she said, handing me a business card. “Caleb, let’s go. I’ve had enough for one day.”

  Caleb’s eyes caught on mine before he turned and walked away. I let him.

  Let him go, I told myself. Let him go. My brain may have believed this was for the best, if my heart had not wilted.

  I looked down at the card in my hand.

  She’d eloped.

  I laughed. I laughed until the tears came.

  Damn.

  I dashed the tears away, took a breath, and returned to the pond where the warring couples were still at it.

  I stared at them, dumbfounded. They had love in their grasp and they were wasting precious time arguing. Putting my fingers to my lips, I blew an earsplitting whistle. The arguing stopped in mid-strike.

  “Stop!” I said, pressing my fingers to my temple. “I have a headache and you’re making it worse.”

  Muffin opened her mouth to launch into another campaign.

  “Bonnie!” I warned, using her given name. Her mouth clamped shut, but it wouldn’t be for long.

  If I was going to end this, the conflicts needed to be aired. And, dammit, this was going to end! Everyone was miserable.

  I turned toward the easiest conflict to resolve.

  “David, you love Mya, but you try to control her every move,” I stated.

  “No, I don’t,” he said.

  “Then what are you fighting about?”

  “That she won’t come home.”

  “Did you demand or ask?” I watched as his features stumbled. “You demanded. If you want her to come back, then you have to ask her.”

  “But . . .”

  “Ask!” I ordered, gripping for patience.


  The look he shot at me was not one of someone who was going to surrender quietly, but he surprised me when he turned to Mya and gently asked her to return home.

  She said yes and he hugged her tight.

  “Don’t hurt the baby,” I scolded.

  “Baby?” He pulled back with wide eyes. “Mya, are you . . .”

  She grinned.

  I turned to the next couple, ignoring the make-up kissing going on between Mya and David. It was sweet, but if there was going to be make-up kissing, I wanted it to be all mine.

  “Frankie.”

  He shifted uncomfortably.

  “You liked living and working with Mark.” I put up my hand to silence him. “I know you did. You only put an offer on Mark’s building so that he could be free. It was a self-sacrificing move. If you didn’t care about him, you’d never have placed the offer. The building is all wrong for your purpose.”

  “I could have made it work,” he said.

  “Says the man who crossed off a building because it opposed the natural feng shui. Mark’s building has a turret missing. Its feng shui is a disaster.”

  Mark eyed Frankie as if wanting to hope but not allowing himself.

  “You both are the best in the business,” I continued, hoping for an easy transition. “If you opened a chapel together, you’d be unstoppable.”

  Frankie frowned, and I thought I might lose the battle.

  “I never thought I’d want a business partner,” he said, looking at Mark. “But we are the best.”

  “We are the best,” Mark agreed with a hesitant smile. “We could look for a building that’s big enough to hold several different themed chapels.”

  Frankie’s mouth twisted in thought. “With extra space for living.”

  “I’m not sure if we can find something big enough for multiple chapels and two living spaces. We can always rebuild to accommodate. We can plan it together . . . if you want.”

  Frankie’s eyes settled shyly on Mark. “I guess I wouldn’t mind if there was only one living space.”

  Mark’s mouth fell open as his hand came to his heart.

  I looked away as a tear slipped down my cheek. I brushed it away and focused on the toughest challenge: Muffin.

  I took a breath and faced her and Piñata . . . or is his name Rizza?

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  He glanced at Muffin. “No one.”

  “Yes, you are,” I insisted. “You’re not who you seem. Your name is Rizza?”

  “Yes. My name is Greg Rizza.”

  “What do you do for a living?” I asked suspiciously.

  “I’m her punching bag,” he said, jabbing a thumb at Muffin.

  “Before that,” I said.

  “Nothing.”

  I eyed him. He was hiding something.

  “Do you know anything about him?” I asked Muffin.

  She shrugged. “He’s not too bad in bed and he can make decent ribs.”

  I rolled my eyes. “He’s the one man you actually like and you don’t know him.”

  She glowered.

  “Are you saying you never asked him anything about himself? You said he’s the only one you’ve ever wanted to stick around.”

  “You wanted me to stay?” Rizza asked her, confusion etched on his brow. “You could have fooled me.”

  Muffin scowled at me and kicked the ground.

  “Ask him,” I said.

  “Ask him what?” she asked.

  “Ask him to stay and marry you for real.”

  Her hooded eyes pinched together.

  “Is that what you want?” he asked her.

  “I never said that,” she said, crossing her arms in defiance.

  He shook his head with a small laugh. “I don’t know why I bother. I have things to do,” he said, turning to leave.

  Sirens wailed in the distance. Muffin’s scowl flatlined and she began the cops-are-coming dance.

  “I’ve got to get out of here,” she said, clamoring to escape.

  We both watched her circling in frenzied panic.

  As Rizza watched her, his faced cleared and something flickered in his eyes. He took a breath and shook his head again, deciding to stay against better judgment.

  “Freeze!” Rizza ordered.

  Muffin didn’t stop her frantic circling. If anything, she was stuck in an endless loop. The sirens were closing in. They were already in the driveway.

  “Damn it! Freeze and put your hands on your head!” he barked, pulling a gun from his waistband.

  Chapter 26

  I froze and held up my hands even though I wasn’t the one he was ordering. What the hell was going on?

  Muffin, for the first time in her life, did what she was told to do. She stopped mid-dance, her hands flying into the air.

  Cops swarmed the pond. Rizza flashed a badge at them when he was ordered to lower his gun.

  “The one you’re looking for is in the pit,” Rizza told the cops, still keeping his gun pointed at Muffin.

  Muffin’s breathing grew irregular and heavy. She was panting as her eyes bulged.

  “Hey,” a cop called to Rizza. “Isn’t that Bonnie Lane Gatlin?”

  “She’s not your concern,” Rizza barked.

  The cop moved closer to Muffin for a better look, still maintaining a safe distance. “It is. She’s a wanted woman,” the cop said, turning his gun on Muffin. “I’ve been staring at her mug shot for the last year.”

  Muffin’s face was crimson, with splotches dotting her face and arms. Her large frame shook.

  “I said it’s not your concern,” Rizza said, flashing his badge again. “U.S. Marshall. She’s mine.”

  The cop glared at Rizza, clearly not wanting to give up a wanted fugitive. Fortunately, he was called away to help haul Fiona out of the pit. From the looks of it, she was not cooperating.

  Rizza tossed me handcuffs. “Cuff her.”

  Muffin’s already wide eyes cut over to me. Her face pleaded. The moment I had been looking forward to was not what I expected . . . and it didn’t feel how I thought it would. It wasn’t right.

  “I can’t,” I said. “If you want to arrest her, you’re on your own.”

  “I’m not trying to arrest her,” he said out the side of his mouth. “I’m trying to keep her out of jail.”

  Muffin and I looked at him warily. Her red splotches were spreading rapidly.

  “Can we have this conversation later?” he asked, flashing his eyes to the cops.

  Frankie and Mark had been listening and bustled through.

  “We’ll distract them,” Frankie said. “We have a way with the strong arm of the law.”

  “Love the uniforms!” Mark added.

  “Oh, that could be one of the chapel themes,” Frankie said.

  “Only if I can wear the uniform,” Mark said with a laugh.

  Frankie argued that he would look more official in uniform as they hurried over to the cops.

  I turned to Rizza. “Tell me what’s going on,” I demanded in a harsh whisper.

  He glanced at the cops again and then at Muffin. Her face was still pleading.

  “I’ll tell you as you put the cuffs on.” When I didn’t budge, he added, “Trust me.”

  I stepped over to Muffin who looked as if she was going to faint.

  As I was dragging her hand down, Rizza said, “I knew who she was as soon as I saw her in California. I let her take me so I could get close.”

  “Why not arrest her?” I asked, snapping the cuff on one hand. She whimpered. Muffin actually whimpered.

  “I was told she had information on another wanted fugitive. He’s the one I was looking for. I thought I’d arrest both of them at the same time. The information was wrong. She doesn’t know him. So, I left.”

  I tugged Muffin’s other arm down. She swayed, ready to topple. “Why didn’t you arrest her like you were originally going to do?”

  “I found that I liked her,” he admitted and turned his attention to Mu
ffin. “Even though you’re a bully and behave like a wild ape, I found myself caring for you,” he said to Muffin who wasn’t comprehending any of this. Even I had a hard time comprehending it. “I took your abuse and everything you could toss at me, but what I discovered was a soft woman under that steel armor. You’re afraid. Let me help you. Let me protect you, Muffin.”

  I clicked the cuff around her wrist. She was fully cuffed and in his control.

  “Trust me, Muffin,” he said.

  She hesitated but then gave a nod. I followed as he led her to his car. When he assisted her into the car and shut the door, I asked, “Where are you taking her?”

  “Back to California,” he answered. “I can hide her better at my place, at least until the heat dies down.”

  “You won’t hurt her?” I asked.

  He eyed me as if I was daft. “She’s more likely to hurt me.”

  “But you’ll take care of her?”

  He sighed and nodded. “I love the giant woman.”

  I opened my mouth . . . but I was speechless.

  “Don’t ask how it happened,” he said, understanding my lack of words. “I have no idea. But she keeps me on my toes,” he said with a chuckle. “Maybe I need someone who can challenge me.”

  “Well, you found a challenge.”

  He gave another laugh and sat in the car. “Take care.”

  “You too.”

  I waved good-bye as he sped down the driveway.

  I walked to the house, avoiding the scene in the pond.

  “Remy?” I called from the door.

  “Kitchen,” he hollered.

  An anguished cry came from the same direction. I ran toward the sound and then wished I hadn’t. Remy yanked out a nail from Greyson’s shoulder.

  “Sit down, Jet,” Remy ordered. “Or go away. I have one more nail.”

  I looked at Greyson with pity before I retreated to the living room and fell into the couch.

  “No, wait! I’m not ready! Son of a . . . ” Greyson’s pained voice carried into the room.

  “What’s going on in there?” David asked as he and Mya stepped into the room.

  “Remy’s pulling nails out of Greyson.”

  “Fiona’s work?”

  I nodded.

  David saw Mya had turned white and hurried her from the room.

  I pressed fingers to my ears, waiting for Mya to stop hurling and Greyson to stop swearing. I had a feeling Remy was cleaning his wounds with lemon and salt.