Sinister Shadows

by Brittany Cournoyer

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The clanking of the chains caught Pierce’s attention, and he turned to look at the bed. He’d grabbed one of the chairs from the attic and had been sitting on it while he waited for Duncan to wake.

  “Time to wake up,” he said softly when Duncan stirred and blinked his eyes open.

  Pierce kept his eyes on Duncan’s face, watching as he tried to move his hand to rub his eye and was met with resistance. Duncan whipped his head to the side to see why he couldn’t move, and his eyes grew so large it was almost comical.

  “What…what is this?” he gasped as he strained to get free from the manacles Pierce had attached to his wrists and ankles.

  “We need to talk,” Pierce said.

  “And restraining me to a bed is way to get me to listen?” Duncan snapped, pulling against the chains. “Let me go.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. You’ve been a bad husband, and it’s time we get back on track.”

  Duncan slammed his head against the pillow and winced when he hit the tender spot on the back of his head. “I’m. Not. Your. Husband!” he seethed.

  Pierce tsked. “That’s strike two, Duncan.”

  “Stop calling me Duncan. My name is Lucas.” He pulled against the chains again. “This is insane. You need to let me go.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Duncan groaned as he tried to get free again. “It’s no use, Duncan. All you’re doing is causing bruises to your wrists. I made sure to keep them pretty tight, so there’s no way you’re getting free until I decide to let you go.”

  “Then fucking let me go!”

  “Not until we talk, Duncan!”

  “There is nothing to talk about!”

  “I see what’s going on here. I need to give you a few minutes alone to calm down, and then once you’re feeling a bit more rational, we’ll talk. How does that sound?”

  “It sounds like bullshit. What you need to do is let me go.”

  “I can’t.”

  Duncan sighed and turned his head to stare at the ceiling. Pierce saw a lone tear fall from the corner of Duncan’s eye and course down his cheek. “Why are you doing this?” he whispered.

  Pierce settled back in the chair and crossed one ankle over his knee, locking his hands behind his head. Tilting his head back, he also stared at the ceiling, wondering if Duncan saw the same cracks and water stains that he did.

  “I knew the first moment I saw you that we belonged together. One look at you, and I was breathless. I knew living another day without you would be nearly impossible. I needed you as much as I need air to breathe, food to eat, and water to drink. And I had to do everything in my power to make sure I wouldn’t have to spend another day without you.”

  Duncan kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling, and even though he had stopped struggling against his restraints, his body was still tense. “But I’m not with you. I’m married to Shaw.”

  “Not anymore.”

  A guttural sob came from Duncan’s throat, but Pierce ignored it. Duncan only needed a little more time to come to terms with the fact that he belonged with Pierce and no one else.

  “What happened to Shaw? Is he okay?”

  Pierce shrugged and lowered his head to lock his eyes on Duncan’s glassy ones. “What does it matter? He is not your concern.”

  “He’s my husband, of course he’s my concern.”

  “No, he’s not! I am your husband, and it’s in your best interest you don’t forget that. Do you understand?” Pierce asked angrily.

  Duncan nodded.

  “Say it out loud,” Pierce demanded.

  “I…I understand,” Duncan whispered.

  “Say that I’m your husband.”

  “I can’t say that.”

  Pierce reached over and grasped Duncan’s ankle. Even though it was nearly healed, it was still tender. Duncan gasped in pain when Pierce added slight pressure.

  “Say it.” His voice was harsh and dictatorial.

  More tears started to stream down Duncan’s cheek. “Y-you’re m-my h-husband.”

  Pierce pressed a bit harder. “That didn’t sound convincing enough.”

  Duncan took a deep breath and closed his eyes, squeezing them tight. “You’re my husband.”

  “Tell me you love me.”

  A loud exhale filled the room, followed by a sniffle. Pierce pressed a bit harder and started to twist Duncan’s ankle. He could hear the muffled scream trying to escape from Duncan’s closed lips “I love you,” he finally gasped out.

  Pierce released his grip on Duncan’s ankle and stood from where he was seated. He leaned over the bed until his face was inches from Duncan’s, and he placed his hand on Duncan’s cheek so he couldn’t turn his face away. Leaning down, he placed a kiss to Duncan’s forehead before backing away.

  “I love you too, my husband. But because of your shenanigans, I’m now late for work. I’ll be back in the morning, and maybe then you’ll be calm enough so we can have our talk.”

  “You can’t leave me this way. What if I need to use the bathroom or something?”

  Pierce shrugged. “Guess you should’ve thought about that before you went snooping.”

  Duncan looked pleadingly at Pierce. “But this is our home together. Why can’t I look around at it? Please, Pierce. Just undo a couple of the chains and leave me a trash can or something. I can’t sleep comfortably this way.”

  Pierce thought about what Duncan told him and removed a set of keys from his pocket. After retrieving the trash can from the bathroom, he unsnapped one of the manacles around Duncan’s wrist and both around his ankles.

  “No funny business,” Pierce warned him.

  Duncan nodded. “I promise.”

  “And don’t even think about trying to use the knife you stashed under your pillow. I found it when I carried you back up here.”

  Duncan’s eyes widened as guilt and panic flashed in his gaze. He started to stammer out a denial, but Pierce held up his hand to silence him.

  “I’ll be back in the morning so we can talk.”

  Pierce gave Duncan one last look before standing up to leave the room. He had half a mind to stay home, but he had a job to do, and he had to keep faith that Duncan would behave himself while he was gone. Duncan would come to terms that he was Pierce’s husband—there was no other option.

  “The job is finished. I’ll be sending you my findings as soon as this call is over, and I expect my payment to be deposited in the account I provided you.”

  “Perfect. I can’t wait to present the information to my attorney as proof that son of a bitch was having an affair. Hopefully this will void the prenup.”

  “In some cases, a prenup will cover adultery, but I’m only the person you hired to catch him. Your attorney will answer anything else for you. Just send me my money.”

  “Doing it now. The money will be there momentarily.”

  “Good. You’ll be getting my information soon.”

  “I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but there’s been some talk. About you.”

  Pierce scoffed. “There’s always talk amongst my clients. Word of mouth is my only form of advertisement.”

  The caller hesitated. “That’s not what I meant.”

  Pierce’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”

  “Look. I’m not sure how much is true, but I heard about the disappearance of one of your clients’ employees. They think you might have something to do with it.”

  “Which client?”

  “I didn’t say anything sooner because I didn’t believe it, and I know how great your work is.”

  “Which client?” he asked again, this time more forcibly.

  “I didn’t get any specifics. I only know it was a restaurant.”

  Pierce didn’t need to hear any more. He might’ve had a lot of clients, but he knew exactly which restaurant they were referring to, since he’d just recently investigated the employees at one. “I’ll send your paperwork soon.”

&nbs
p; The caller started to protest, but he disconnected the call. His hands were shaking as he went to work uploading the files to his laptop. Using the hotspot from his cell phone, he was able to connect to the internet while inside his vehicle, and he quickly attached the photos and bank transactions he’d been able to obtain and email them to his client. Checking his bank account, he was satisfied to see the money had already been deposited. At least his client was true to his word.

  Disconnecting from the hotspot, he shut down his laptop and shoved it under the seat of his SUV and started the ignition. Throwing his car into gear, he pulled out of the parking lot and sped toward the house. The fact that talk was going around was concerning, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t dealt with before. He just needed to lay low until it blew over. The hefty sum that’d been deposited into his bank account sparked an idea, and the longer he thought about it, the more it grew on him. He and Duncan never had a proper honeymoon, so maybe it was time they took one.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jesus, the restraints were tight. As soon as Pierce left the room, Lucas tried everything to break free from the restraint, but he wasn’t strong enough. The headboard wouldn’t break no matter how hard he pulled, and he had nothing to try and pick the lock. He was fucking stuck. As he lay there, a sweaty, panting mess, he stared up at the ceiling as the floodgates holding back his memories finally opened. Finally, he remembered what happened the night of the accident.

  “Have a good night, Maurice. I’ll see you in the morning bright and early,” Lucas told his boss.

  It was later than usual, since they had a large party come in last minute. Lucas was exhausted, but there was no way they could turn away such a large group of people. While the waitstaff was pissed, Maurice wouldn’t hear of it. The restaurant was still new, and the last thing they needed was bad reviews. So, they stayed and prepared the best dishes possible, and after the group left, the staff was in high spirits from hefty tips and lots of praise.

  “Don’t come too early. You’ve worked late nights all week, and I’m sure your husband misses you. You need some rest,” Maurice reminded him.

  “I’ll rest when I retire. I’ll make it up to Shaw.” Lucas winked.

  “Get out of here,” Maurice said with a chuckle.

  Lucas left the restaurant and headed down the sidewalk toward the parking garage where his car was kept. He was in the middle of writing a text letting Shaw know he was headed home and turned a corner to head down the dark sidewalk. It was nights like this, when he was bone tired, that he cursed the parking garage being a bit of a distance away. He finished typing the last of his message and pressed the button to send it when someone stepped directly in his path.

  “Oh, excuse me,” Lucas muttered when he went to step around the strange man.

  But as Lucas stepped to the left, the other person stepped to the right, blocking his path again. Lucas let out an uncomfortable chuckle as he went to move in the opposite direction, and the man followed suit.

  “I need to get by,” Lucas said as the man blocked his path a third time.

  “I don’t think so,” the man said gruffly.

  “Excuse me? Look, man, I don’t know what your deal is, but it’s been a long freaking night, and I want to get home. So please, get out of my way.”

  The man didn’t say another word. Instead, he reached out to grab Lucas’s wrist. Lucas dodged the man and took a step backward.

  “What the hell?”

  “It’s time you came with me.”

  “Are you fucking crazy? I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  The man took another step forward, causing Lucas to take another step back. He stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk but was able to catch his footing.

  “Stop fighting me, Duncan.”

  “What? Who the fuck is Duncan?” Lucas asked, taking a few more steps back.

  “You are,” the crazy man said as he stepped closer, “and it’s time you came home where you belong—with me.”

  Lucas didn’t wait around to hear anymore. Taking a risk, he turned his back on the man and started to run down the sidewalk. Fear shot down his spine as he heard the footsteps behind him, and he ran as fast as he could to the restaurant in hopes Maurice would still be there. He slammed against the door and banged on the glass, screaming for Maurice to open the door, but the entire place was black.

  Lucas went to reach into his pocket for his keys, but the sound of approaching footsteps told him he didn’t have time to unlock the door. He had to keep running so he could find help. Taking a deep breath, Lucas gave one last look at the restaurant before taking off down the sidewalk.

  Tears streamed down Duncan’s—Lucas’s—cheeks as he replayed the scene in his mind. He could recall the terror he felt as he ran down the sidewalk to get away from Pierce. He could feel the pain in his chest as he tried to catch his breath, the stitch in his side as he ran with all his might, and he could remember how the rain soaked him as it mingled with the sweat on his skin. Lucas could feel the hope that bubbled inside him as he neared the end of the alley that exited to the street and how he was so close to getting help when Pierce caught up to him, knocking him out. Then, his memory skipped to the hospital where he was told he was Duncan Reynolds and married to Pierce.

  Guilt begin to eat at Lucas as he thought about Shaw. How could he forget his husband and their life together? They had been married for four years and had talked about starting the process of becoming foster parents with the hope of adopting once they got their finances sorted out. They were happy together, and Lucas had forgotten all of that. He had believed some strange man was his husband and that this was his life. How could he allow that to happen?

  Thoughts of Shaw had Lucas asking himself other questions. Did Shaw know what happened to him? Was Shaw looking for him? Was Shaw okay? Did Pierce—if that was his real name—harm him? He had so many questions that only Pierce would be able to answer.

  Night turned into day, but Lucas couldn’t sleep. He was agitated and uncomfortable, being restrained in the position he was in, and finally, he heard the front door open. His body ached from being so tense, and the footsteps on the stairs only increased his anxiety.

  Lucas forced his head to turn so he could lock his eyes on the man who hovered in his doorway. The vile man who kidnapped him. The man who made him believe they were married and kept him isolated while he fed Lucas lie after lie.

  “Why me?” Lucas rasped out.

  “Why not you?”

  Pierce took a few steps into the room and paused halfway to Lucas’s bed. He allowed his gaze to travel languidly from the tip of Lucas’s toes to the top of his messy, light brown hair.

  Lucas shifted on the bed and felt uncomfortable the longer Pierce’s gaze lingered on his body. “Is Pierce really your name?”

  “It’s the one you know, so that’s all that matters, Duncan.”

  “I’m not Duncan. I’m Lucas Wheeler, a chef at Thyme and Basil.”

  Pierce slowly shook his head. “Not anymore. You’re Duncan Reynolds. Ex-paralegal and my husband.”

  “Why did you take me that night?”

  Pierce rubbed his face. “Ahh, so you remember?”

  “It’s amazing how my memories started to make a comeback when I finally saw the real photos you took of me.”

  “Perceptive.”

  “Why me?” Lucas asked again, and he made it a point to soften his voice.

  Pierce lowered his body to the chair he’d left by the bed. Crossing his feet at the ankles, he closed his eyes.

  “I remember the first time I saw you. I’d been hired by your boss to investigate you because he thought you were stealing money from the restaurant.”

  Lucas nearly choked on his saliva and started to cough violently. “What?” he wheezed out. “Hired for what? I thought you worked at a factory.”

  Pierce continued talking as if Lucas hadn’t spoken. “You and one other person, the assistant manager Trina. Maurice had noticed the b
ooks weren’t adding up, and a significant amount of money was unaccounted for.”

  “How much?”

  “Over twenty thousand dollars.”

  Lucas’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “I didn’t take it, so why was I being investigated?”

  “Because it made sense. You and Trina are the only two who have keys to the restaurant and access to the safe. He has a camera set up in the office where the safe is, but every time he went to look at the footage, the camera wasn’t working. That’s when he brought me in. He’d heard about me from someone else who needed a private investigator, and he knew I was the best at getting the job done.”

  Lucas didn’t miss how Pierce admitted he was a private investigator, rather than a factory worker, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he focused on the other part of what Pierce had said. “It was Trina stealing the money, wasn’t it? I told Maurice not to hire her, but he didn’t listen since she’s a friend of his wife’s.”

  The minute she’d been brought in, Lucas had a bad feeling about her. He couldn’t put his finger on it—maybe it was the way she was too eager to work over, or the way she outrageously flirted with Maurice—but Lucas didn’t care for her. His only saving grace was he was strictly in the back of the house, so he barely had to deal with her. Unless she went into the kitchen and tried to throw her weight around. The one time she tried doing that, Lucas had no problem gently reminding her that she was not his boss and that the kitchen was his domain. After that, they had come to some sort of unspoken truce. She handled the front, while he dealt with the back. To hear she was stealing money from Maurice didn’t seem too far-fetched.

  “Of course, it was her. No husband of mine is a thief,” Pierce said vehemently.

  Duncan ignored the husband comment. “What happened to her?”

  Pierce shrugged. “How should I know? I found the information needed and sent it over. What he did with it isn’t my concern. You were my concern. The minute I saw you, you were all I could think about. Not her, or the missing money, or the job I was hired to do—just you.”