He shook his head and walked to the stairs.
“You don’t understand…”
I stood up.
“Then make me understand.”
He only shook his head again.
“Alice, please, you know I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
I walked to the door and opened it.
“This coming from the man who tied me up and kidnapped me. Please, no more lies, Jake. I can’t take it.”
Then I was outside, going somewhere—anywhere. I didn’t care as long as it was away.
As I walked away, my hand was grabbed.
“Paul. It’s Paul.”
I froze, and Jake said, “Alice, I am so sorry.”
I didn’t look at him as I said one word: “No.”
His voice came out low and jerky, as if he had to force each statement out of himself.
“We’ve worked together for a while. Mostly beating guys up, a few robberies, but this was the first big job.”
I didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. He had been working with Paul, my fiancé. And yet, it couldn’t be true. Not Paul. Not the sweet Paul who wouldn’t hurt a fly. Not the Paul who had pursued me day and night, who had cared for me like no one had before. Not the man I had been going to marry less than a week ago.
“Alice, I’m so sorry. But I wasn’t going to go through with it. Not since that first night. I couldn’t. Alice, please, you have to believe me.”
His hand clasped around my wrist. I ripped my arm away.
“Liar.”
“Alice—”
I turned to him, wiping away the tears that were already streaming down my face.
“Don’t you understand, Jake? How can I ever trust you after this? The whole reason we met was because you kidnapped me, for God’s sake—a kidnapping that was commissioned by my fiancé of all people. How can I even trust myself after almost marrying a con artist?”
Jake stepped forward.
“Please, Alice. You said yourself that it didn’t feel right with Paul. Now tell me.” He clasped both my hands. “Does this feel right?”
I didn’t tell him my answer. My whole body was trembling with it, from my clasped fingers all the way up to my lips, to the smile and kiss fighting their way up.
My gaze flicked to the still-visible rope sores on my wrists, and I ripped myself free.
“I can’t, Jake.”
Even as I walked off, he followed me, his words coming out in harried bursts.
“Please, Alice—please. Let me prove it to you. Anything—I’ll do anything. Please.”
I paused and then whirled around to spit my answer in his face, the one he wouldn’t take me up on.
“Call him then. Papa. Mr. Heston Pryce. Right now. Call him and tell him that it’s off, that I’m safe and he doesn’t owe you a penny. Then turn yourself in to the police, take ownership of what you’ve done—the bank robbery, the kidnapping, everything. For once in your life, Jake, take responsibility for what you’ve done.”
I stared into his face, at the clenched jaw, the eyes intent on something in the distance, something that couldn’t be seen by me or anybody else but him. It was some sort of mash of the past, present, and future, of yelling voices, balled-up fists, and dead eyes. Something that had already decided what he was going to do, what I had known he was going to do as soon as I had asked him to do the right thing.
I turned away, and he said, “Hello? Heston Pryce?”
I turned around. He had a phone pressed to his ear.
“Yes?” Papa said, and Jake handed the phone to me.
“Papa? It’s me, Alice. I’m all right.”
“Alice?” his tense voice said. “Is he there with you? Did you get away?”
“No, and I can’t explain right now, but I’m okay. I love you.”
“Alice, tell him I have the money. Tell him I’ll give it to him now, whenever, however he likes it.”
Jake took the phone.
“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Pryce. You’ll see your daughter again in a few days. She won’t be harmed, and you don’t need to transfer any money. This was a mistake, and I apologize.”
There was a shocked silence, and then Jake handed the phone back to me.
“Papa, I have to go now, but I just want you to know that I love you so much, and that I’m so thankful for everything you’ve done for me over the years.”
Another silence, then: “Alice, thank God you’re all right, but what’s going on? Is he really going to let you go?”
I glanced at Jake. Smiling slightly, he nodded.
“Yes, Papa. Yes, he is.”
Papa and I laughed and cried as the good-bye slipped out of my lips. Then I hung up, because I had to embrace the man before me—the one who had more than proven himself.
Just as his strong arms closed around me, a car pulled up in front of the cabin. I strained to look over, and Jake patted my hand.
“Wow, even faster than I thought.”
“Hey, sexy,” Jake called to the bald, stout man getting out of his car.
“Nah, it’s just Bob,” the ball-capped man said as he walked up to us, two pizza boxes in hand.
Seeing their name, “Sexy Pizza,” I laughed. Jake accepted the boxes and clapped the man on the back.
“Thanks, man. I’ll be seeing you.”
As the short man walked away, he pumped up a fist.
“You know it!”
And then it was just me, Jake, and two steaming-hot boxes of pizza.
I turned to him with a quizzical look, and he grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the cabin.
“Pizza first, questions later.”
As we walked in, I poked his ribs.
“So, all this time we’ve had such sad meals of hot dogs and eggs, we could’ve been having pizza?”
Jake poked me back.
“No, princess. We’re not exactly in the usual pizza radius way the hell out here. I was saving it for a special occasion. A guy owed me a favor.”
As Jake placed the two boxes on the counter, I ran my fingers through his hair.
“And what exactly is the special occasion?”
Turning, Jake kissed me full on the lips. His hands sliding to my hips and drawing me to him, he said, “You.”
My lips slid to his ear, and I murmured, “Well, I can eat to that.”
And we did. As each pepperoni, olive, green pepper, and mushroom filled slice slid down our throats, as we ate with one hand and clasped fingers with the other, as we wiped off each other’s faces with napkins and licked each other’s stray sauce off our lips, we were blissfully, perfectly happy.
This man beside me was all I needed, all I would ever need. And as we slumped on the couch, in a mid-pizza, full-of-love daze, the words slid out of us.
“We’re in this together, you know,” I said.
“You’re the only one who truly has my best interests at heart.”
“You’ve more than shown me that you’re worthy of my trust.”
And Jake, my darling, handsome Jake, took my face in his hands and gave me a long, pizza-delicious kiss.
Then he said, “Thank you. I’m so happy I met you.”
We curled up into each other, passing the last slice back and forth, kissing each other once we were finished, our hands clasping and unclasping, thanking our lucky stars for our paths crossing, even if in the most bizarre of ways.
Chapter Fourteen
Alice
I awoke to voices in the kitchen. It was Jake on the phone again, and the other voice I could just make out on the line was…Paul’s.
My stomach twisted sickly, but I forced myself to keep still.
“No, Paul. I told you the deal’s off. I don’t care if you double what you’re paying me.”
There was the sound of Paul’s angry yet hard to make out reply. Then Jake said, “No. For the last time, no, Paul. You want to know what you can’t double? That incredible woman you were trying to screw over.”
A laugh, then: �
�Yeah. I guess you could say she got to me. Good-bye, Paul.”
When I opened my eyes, Jake was looking straight at me.
“You heard that, huh?”
I nodded, and he shrugged and then smiled.
“Good. Now I don’t have to tell you. It’s over, for good—all of it.”
His face darkened.
“Though we may be on the run for a bit.”
I still couldn’t quite speak.
I had already known it, but seeing proof of it so irrefutably like this was dumbfounding. So it had really been true. The man who’d had me kidnapped, who had ruined my wedding, had nearly scared me half to death, was the very man I had been concerned about worrying and betraying this whole time. My husband-to-be. Paul. How could he have done this to me?
“If it’s any consolation, he had made me promise to take it easy on you during the kidnapping,” Jake said.
I said nothing. That wasn’t any consolation at all. The man I had been about to join my life with had been ransoming me to get money out of my father.
“He wasn’t doing it just to earn some extra cash,” Jake said. “A recent deal of his fell through.”
I scrutinized the equivocal expression on his face.
“Are you…defending him?”
Jake shook his head.
“No. I just…” He put his hand on my shoulder. “I just wanted to make this easier.”
I shrugged him off.
“And you…”
He put his hand on my shoulder, and I shrugged it off again.
“I what?”
I whipped around, staring into the face of the man I thought I knew.
“You knew all this time. After everything that’s happened, after all our talks…you only told me a few hours ago. And like this?”
Jake’s head was hung, his eyes dull and lowered.
“What if I had escaped?” I continued. “Or what if I had wanted to be taken back home? Would you have let me? Has any of this been real? Would you have let me go back to him?”
Jake’s head whipped up. Now his eyes were fiery.
“Never.” He grasped both my shoulders, directing his words straight to me. “No. I would’ve followed you until I could’ve told you. Kidnapped you again if I had to. Alice, I tried to tell you; I did.”
Every part of his face was alive, pulsing with tension. God, he was so angry…and so sexy. Despite my best efforts, laughter bubbled out of me.
“Would you have actually kidnapped me again?”
Jake kissed me.
“Maybe.”
He picked me up and twirled me around. Placing me down, he directed his plea to my already-lowering smile.
“The important thing is that I wouldn’t have just sat there and let you ruin your life, just how I’m not going to sit here now and let you question for a second what we have—the most real feeling I’ve ever had in my life.”
His eyes were so earnest, so wide and such a deep green that it seemed as if I could see into his heart, his soul, which told me just how much he meant the words he’d just said.
“Now,” Jake said, his hand around my waist, “are you going to make me lift you and spin you again until you give me an answer?”
Drawing back, I couldn’t hold back another smile.
“Isn’t that blackmail?”
Jake kissed me.
“That would be one of my lesser crimes, and one I’d gladly commit for you.”
We laughed and he did it; he scooped me up and spun me around and around until the world around me disappeared into one laughing blur. I was howling for him to stop, and he was asking me if I’d made up my mind yet. And then, all of a sudden, he stopped. Disoriented, I was about to turn to him when he hurried past me, his face a white mask.
Knocking. Someone was knocking on the door—loudly. Peering through the window, Jake sighed and then opened it.
“Tom, you fucker, I nearly shit myself I was so scared!”
Laughter, then: “Jesus Christ. You’re actually here, Jake. You crazy motherfucker!”
The speaker, a beefy man sporting an old black T-shirt with a smiley face and middle finger on it, sauntered in, casting a look around the place.
“Saw the news, even had several guys tell me themselves, and still I couldn’t believe it. Had to see for myself.”
He flopped onto the couch, which gave a sort of gasp at its new hefty occupant.
“Well, here the fuck you are,” he said, throwing a tan, beefy arm out.
“Hey, Jake.”
At the door was a blonde with a cleavage-baring plaid top and a familiar smirk.
“Dalia,” Jake said in a strained voice. “You came too?”
Sauntering in, Dalia stopped in front of him, too close.
“‘Course I did. Miss a chance to see Jake Harker, the famous dangerous criminal?” She put a hand on his chest. “Never.”
Jake stepped back, shooting a glance at me. Dalia’s black-rimmed gaze followed his and stopped on me.
“Oh. My. God. The billionaire’s daughter! She’s actually here, just like… Hang on. Should she just be out like this?”
Now her long pink talon was pointing at me. Shaking his head, Jake took a step toward me.
“No, actually, it’s not like—”
I walked to the stairs.
“I’ll let you all catch up.”
Jake was one step behind me. His hand on my back, he said, “Let me explain it to them, babe.”
But I continued up the stairs.
“No, really. I have to go to the bathroom.”
And then I left. Inside the little wooden box of the bathroom, I stared into the cracked mirror and noticed how the crack ran perfectly through the center of my face.
Right now, what was it I was feeling?
I inhaled, then exhaled, just how Donna had taught me to do when I was trying to reflect on what was going on inside me at our useless therapy sessions. That too-familiar blonde down there—was that what was bothering me? Or was it the dumpy gangster?
I stared back into my reflection’s eyes. It was that, a bit, but it was more than that. It was that they had talked to Jake in a way I never had, had known him in a way I never had. They had been crass and familiar.
Absently, I ran my second finger over the crack in the mirror. My finger came away bloody.
What if these people, these rude, trashy people, knew Jake better than I did, knew the real Jake? What if this—how Jake had been acting—was all a temporary put-on? What if even Jake wasn’t sure who he really was?
I stood there, but being stuck in the wooden box didn’t solve anything; it only made the questions descend upon me with a new fury.
Once I opened the door and walked out, I heard voices from downstairs.
“No. She’s not like that, okay? She could’ve turned me in a ton of times already and hasn’t. I’m telling you, Alice isn’t like that.”
I walked over to the top of the stairs, and from his spot in the middle of the couch, Jake threw me a forced smile.
“I was just telling Tom and Dalia how we bonded, being stuck here together due to my ill-advised crime.”
Tom and Dalia swapped a knowing smile. Then a harsh laugh burst out of Dalia.
Patting Jake’s chest, she said, “Oh, you dog you. I sure bet ya did.”
Tossing me a sneer, she added, “Me and Jake have really bonded a few times too, ya know.”
During the awkward silence in which I stood frozen, Jake rose.
“How many girls exactly is it that you’ve bonded with here, Jake? Twenty? Thirty? More?” Dalia asked in a shrill voice.
On the bottom stair, Jake froze.
“Fuck off, Dalia,” he said quietly.
Now Tom was rising, blood coming to his cheeks in red splotches.
“Hey, man, we’re just trying to look out for you. This girl—look at her—she doesn’t know shit, okay? She doesn’t care about you. Her type, the rich superior ones—they look down on us like we’re a dif
ferent species, like some sort of sub-humans. I mean, yeah, I know you told me you guys had your whole swimming romantic animal experience, but, Jake, listen to me, man. Dalia? She knows you. Me? I’ve known you how long? This girl, she’s playing you so she can go back to daddy, get you locked up for good, and post your pretty face in all the papers along with how mean and ruthless you were to ruin her perfect wedding.”
Jake still wasn’t moving. His face looked like he’d been hit. And, in a way, he had. Tom’s words were ridiculous to me, but if Jake’s stricken expression was any indication, they had been the very fears that had been playing at the edge of his mind.
Well, I wasn’t just going to stand there and let Tom pretend he knew the first thing about me.
“Jake, don’t listen to him,” I said.
Tom’s voice rose to a boom as he said, “Okay, let’s just say both of you are as bat-shit in love as you say you are.”
Looking from one of us to the other, he continued. “Your plan of escape and eluding the police is completely idiotic. You’re gonna drive around who knows where for who knows how long, trying to escape the biggest manhunt Colorado’s had since that prison escape, like, twenty years ago?”
Jake and I exchanged a worried look. Hearing our plans laid out like that, they did sound pretty idiotic.
“You have any better ideas?” Jake growled.
Tom collapsed back onto the couch with a sigh, the furniture groaning under his weight.
“Always knew you were a crazy son of a bitch,” he muttered.
Now it was Dalia’s turn to rise, saying, “I think—”
“Fuck off, Dal,” Tom muttered, shoving a hand in his pocket.
His pudgy tan hand reappeared with a wad of bills.
“You’re gonna need this if you’re gonna get anywhere.”
He chucked it at Jake, who caught it easily. To both of our blank stares, Tom snorted.
“You guys really didn’t fuckin’ think this over, did you?”
Sweeping a hand through his long greasy hair, he continued, looking at Jake.
“Here’s the story: You’re on the run for that shit-tacular bank robbery you pulled. So, you can’t show your face most places or you’re done for, and you definitely can’t use any cards or any of that kind of shit unless you want a nice visit from some officers of the law.”
Buy Me, Bad Boy - A Bad Boy Buys A Girl Romance Page 29
