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Saro entered the room. “Franco’s on the phone.”
He placed the phone in my hand.
“Hello.”
“Call your cousin. It’s time to talk. Enough of the two-to-three-word game texts. I’m fine. I’ll explain soon. Trust me, Kennedy,” Franco mocked.
My heart plunged into my chest at an alarming rate. There was only so much I could do to keep Quinn safe. Franco was right. The vague texts over the course of two and a half weeks had to end. It was time I told Quinn Franco held me captive.
“Ok, I’ll talk to him.”
“Good,” Franco replied, before disconnecting the call.
I gave the phone back to Saro.
“Kennedy, I’ll grab your phone. Be right back.”
I nodded, now deep in thought. Did Franco change his mind about us? It sounded that way. It felt like he wanted this ordeal to be over so he could return to his beastly ways.
“Here you are,” Saro said, cutting into my thoughts.
Taking the phone from his grip, I tapped Quinn’s contact info, labeled Q.
When I brought the phone to my ear, the tiny hairs on my arms stood. Could this all be over soon? My captivity would end. I’d return to my life. Without Franco in it. Sadness washed over me.
Quinn’s phone rang several times before his voicemail message popped on. “At the sound of the beep, you know what to do.”
“Quinn, no more texts. We need to talk. The guy who believed in your vision took me.”
Saro’s dark brows lifted at my statement.
I looked away, peering at the brown throw covering my legs. “He won’t release me until he’s paid the money he’s owed. No, I’m not hurt. Call me back.” I disconnected the call.
“Saro, tell Franco it’s done. I’ll be out of his hair soon,” I said, placing the phone in his hand.
Saro laughed as he sauntered out of the office. What the hell was so funny?
My cousin would call back this time. The words I said in the message had meaning. It was important Quinn knew Franco was the man holding me captive. Quinn also needed to know Franco believed in him. And even though Franco held me captive, he hadn’t harmed me. I didn’t want Quinn making a rash decision to rescue me.
***P***
Around the time Franco usually ate dinner, I made my way to the dining room. My eyes roamed the space. Curling my fists at my sides, I took a deep breath.
It’s over between you two, Kennedy.You should be happy. You can return to your life unscathed.
Fuck this shit. I held my head high. Tonight, after I completed my homework, I’d party in the sitting room. I couldn’t wait to take advantage of the full bar. A smile took my lips. I’d ask Bonnie to pick up a karaoke machine. It was time to celebrate Franco releasing me from my cushy prison.
***P***
I slipped a black satin robe over the deep yellow tank top and tiny tropical print shorts. Black UGGs covered my feet this time. I’d miss all the clothes. Once I finished school and opened my accounting firm, I’d reward myself with a new pair of UGGs.
The smile that stretched across my lips was so fake. It masked the sadness bubbling up in my throat. All the interactions I had with Franco hit me all at once. Franco saw me. I’d miss those pretty boy cocky grins of his.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I pushed down the feelings that were forcing their way to the surface.
I’m in love with my captor. What’s wrong with me?
I sank on to the edge of the bed, running a hand over my straight brown tresses.
