Page 8 of Stolen By the Billionaire
On the phone screen, Mary Varvara Bell sat back in her office chair and folded her arms over her chest. “Hello, Mr. Robinson. I didn’t think this would be how I heard from you.”
Blaze growled, “Now that I’m holding a machete to your niece’s throat, let’s talk about your demands.”
4
The Tarot Cards Didn’t Predict That
Sarah
As he advanced, the man stared down the sights of his handgun at Sarah.
The spangled psychic robes twisted around her legs as she rose from the chair. She stumbled, catching the table and nearly flipping it.
The man’s arm wrapped under Sarah’s armpits, and he yanked her back against his body. He was huge, a wall of a man, a towering pile of bricks and boulders she was splayed across like a sacrifice.
“Jesus is Lord, let me go!” she yelled at him, flailing her legs and arms. “I left the chickens in the garden. If they’re out all night, their chicks and eggs will die. And I left the barn door closed, so my horse and HowNow won’t be able to get back inside if it storms. The garden will die, and the eggs will die, and the feed will stop being delivered and the corn won’t get fertilized and everything will die! There’s no one else here to take care of everything. You can’t kill me! They’re all counting on me!”
Cold metal chilled her throat.
Sarah glanced down out of the corner of her eye and saw a huge knife, a machete, extending from her shoulder to her neck. The frigid steel pressed under her jaw to her opposite ear.
Every pore of her body squirted slippery sweat, dampening her shirt and jeans under the stupid robes she wore.
Some darned psychic she was, huh? Hadn’t seen this coming.
The man jerked her shoulders sideways so she was staring at her phone clipped in the center of the blazing ring light.
On the screen, her aunt Mary glared, her arms crossed, and said something dry and calm to the man who was holding a knife to Sarah’s throat.
Sarah’s stomach roiled, threatening to vomit up her scrambled egg, bread, and carrot. No-no-no, she should have been more alert. She should have been more aware of what was happening in her house. Dangit-dangit-dangit.
Rewind the clock, she begged the saints and Mary. I should have paid attention to the squeak on the stairs. If only I’d paid attention to the squeak on the stairs.
The man growled from behind Sarah’s head, “Now that I’m holding a machete to your niece’s throat, let’s talk about your demands.”
He shoved Sarah down into the chair. His massive paw of a hand was wrapped around her elbow, pulling her down. She struggled stupidly and ineffectively, a little wiggle that didn’t jostle the giant behind her.
The man’s harsh voice grated in his throat as he spoke over Sarah’s head. “If you threaten me again, I will hunt down everyone and everything you love and destroy them. I’ll start with Sarah Nevaeh Bell here.”
Okay, he was talking about her, so he must not be talking to her, but he was still freakin’ threatening her. Dangit, how had she let this happen?
“Interesting that you manipulated me into this Zoom call,” her aunt said, so dang calmly despite the steel still pressing against Sarah’s neck. “I don’t like being manipulated.”
The man shook Sarah’s arm where he was holding her down. A panicked wave shoved through all the cells in her body.
The man told Sarah’s aunt, “I will hunt down every friend you have and every kid they have. I am relentless. I won’t stop until you are alone, and then I’ll come after you. I am an American Navy SEAL, Bell. I will never take orders from a goddamned Russian mobster.”
On the phone screen, Aunt Mary’s shoulders lifted and fell as she sighed. “Yes, yes, I see your point. Leave my niece alone. I’ll contact you in a day or so to renegotiate terms.”
The man’s hand on Sarah’s elbow loosened, and the blade on her throat dropped a fraction of an inch.
Should she try to dodge away now? Was the danged machete slightly off-center of her jugular vein, and thus he’d merely partially decapitate her instead of slitting her throat? No-no-no-no-no.
Aunt Mary said, her voice harder, “Now get out of my niece’s house before I send platoon of mercenaries after you. I will watch you leave before I hang up this Zoom call.”
“Deal,” the man snarled.
Sarah’s arm dropped as he let go, and he stood and stomped out of her studio.
