She’d dissolved into tears. The whole situation had built up. The enormity of the precarious position she was in overwhelmed her. She just wanted this over with, no matter what the outcome. She wanted it over.
*
‘I… I’m here because of the actions of my father, and I will be executed…’
Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she had to stop to control her breathing. She was giving off the exact image they wanted. She was the consummate hostage.
She closed her eyes and tried to envision her father’s face. The only photo she had was the one she carried in her purse and they’d taken that from her before they’d put her in the van. It was a picture taken in one of those booths on a day trip to the beach. He’d been wearing a light blue shirt, and he’d spilled ice cream down the front of it. In the photo, he was laughing a mouth open, full-on belly laugh, his eyes crinkling, his cheeks puffy. The ice cream was in his hand, dripping down the front of his shirt, and Autumn was sticking her tongue out at the camera and holding onto his shoulder as she sat on his knee.
‘Tomorrow, midnight, GMT,’ the leader added for her.
Autumn dropped her script to the floor and hung her head.
*
He stopped rubbing the rope against the nail when he heard the footsteps moving along the corridor, and shifted back into the position he’d been left in.
The bolts were drawn back with a dull thud. Footsteps retreated, the door was re-bolted, and there was silence.
‘Autumn?’ Nathan called, shuffling his feet to propel himself across the floor.
There was no response.
‘Autumn,’ he repeated.
He hoped he was moving in the right direction. There was no sound, not even a breath. His heart quickened as panic gripped him. What if he’d been wrong about everything? What if this had nothing to do with Rick, and everything to do with him? What if this was about Nigel Farlow, or about him? They could have just taken Autumn and killed her, outthought everything. Were they that clever?
His foot touched something, and in the shadow of his hood, he tried to make out a shape, get his bearings.
‘Autumn, for fuck’s sake, speak to me,’ he ordered. His voice came out rough, but it was tinged with concern. He didn’t want to fuck this up.
She let out a groan. It was enough for him to maneuver himself around, find her, and get her into a sitting position.
Fuck this situation! If he knew they were finished with him for the night, he could cut through the bindings, get their hoods off, and make her more comfortable. But he couldn’t take that risk yet.
He grabbed a handful of material, and, using all his body weight and the limited movement in his hands, dragged her across the floor toward the wall.
‘Autumn, you’re going to have to help me,’ he told her.
There was no response.
‘Autumn, I don’t need you to turn back into that fashion-obsessed, pain-in-the-ass snob right now. Wake up! Help me!’
He felt her body tense, and with minimal cooperation, he managed to get them both over to the wall. By the time he managed to get her back into a sitting position, they were both out of breath.
‘Did they hurt you?’ he asked.
‘My face,’ she said.
Her voice was weak and hoarse. They both badly needed water. Hours had to have passed, although he had no real idea. They’d both been stripped of watches and everything else except the clothes they wore.
‘They hit you?’ Nathan clarified.
He clenched his teeth together and exhaled through his nose. He would find a way to kill them all, every one of them.
‘I’m so cold,’ Autumn said.
Her teeth chattered and her shoulders shook.
‘What did they make you do? Lean into me,’ he directed, turning his shoulder sideways so she could move across his chest.
‘They made me read to a camera. Made me recite what an evil man my father was… is. They made me say that I would be… executed… tomorrow, at midnight.’
Nathan closed his eyes and tried not to give away any of his feelings through his body language. They hadn’t bothered making up a ransom demand. They hadn’t appealed directly to Rick to give himself over in exchange for Autumn. This was as direct as it got. If no one came for Autumn now, she was dead. The group had staked its reputation on it.
‘That’s what I expected. I should have briefed you,’ he said to console her.
‘If he doesn’t come, they’ll have to kill me, won’t they?’ Autumn asked.
He closed his eyes again, and this time, didn’t try to hide the inhalation of air as he considered how to respond. She wasn’t stupid. She knew, no matter what he said. But, as long as he had oxygen in his lungs, nothing was going to happen to her.
*
‘Autumn, I’m not going to let anything happen to you, d’you hear me? I didn’t take this job not to see it through. I understood the remit at the time. Yes, things have changed, but the aim is the same. I’m here for your security. I’m here to protect you.’
For a second, as he talked, her teeth stopped chattering, her shoulders stopped trembling, and she was soothed by his words and the familiarity of his voice.
‘I wish I could hold you,’ she whispered.
She felt his head touch hers. ‘Keep that thought,’ he replied.
Thirty-Seven
Autumn fell asleep. Her body became heavier, and, using his chest, he lowered her to a lying position across his lap. It was good that she slept. For one, it relieved the boredom of sitting in a locked room where all you could do was think. For another, when all you could do was think about whether your next twenty-four hours would be your last, it was better not to think at all.
His whole body tensed when he heard footsteps approach. This was what he’d thought would happen.
