If she lived, and she doubted that she would, the last fifteen minutes would be fodder for her nightmares forever, Joy thought as Trent raced out of the driveway with her strapped into the passenger seat. He’d ordered her to put on her seatbelt and then he’d floored it. She alternated between thinking about jumping out and going over the events of their reunion all over in her head. Thoughts of Billy and the fact that she might never see him again tried to creep in there too, but she pushed them away. That was too painful.
Joy looked over at her brother, holding onto the steering wheel with one hand and the gun with the other. He looked healthier than she’d ever seen him. He must have used at least some of his time locked up hitting the weights. He was a lot bigger than she’d ever seen him and when he grabbed her in the house she’d instantly realized that he was as strong as an ox. She shuddered as she went through everything that had happened at the B&B.
Her whole body froze at the first feel of his touch when he locked a big hand over her mouth and held it there so tightly that she could hardly breathe, much less make a sound. All the while he was holding the gun steady to Rosa’s temple with the other hand. He spun them both around just in time to face Grant as he ran through the door. Joy couldn’t see her brother’s face, but the sound of his voice had sent chills down her spine.
“Hello. You must be Grant Patrick.”
Joy’s eyes began to water, so her view of Grant was blurry, but she could see his hand slowly moving toward his back. Trent didn’t miss it either, apparently. “Don’t be stupid, Mr. Patrick. I have a 9mm pressed into your woman’s head here. Unless me putting a bullet in her brain would be doing you a favor, I suggest you keep your hands where I can see them.”
Grant’s face showed signs that he was thinking of doing otherwise, however, at last he raised his hands and held them palms up. Trent loosened his grip on her mouth slightly, but tightened it again when he saw Marcus step through the door, gun drawn.
“Let the ladies go,” Marcus said, his voice full of fury and ice.
Trent laughed. “Shoot me. See this finger on the trigger here? You think it might jerk a little as the bullet enters my head? I’m not sure…give it a shot and see what happens.” Marcus didn’t flinch, but neither did Trent. It was a battle between a military mind and one that had no concept of consequences, but Joy knew who would win.
“You thought they were going to save you?” Trent’s questioning voice broke her out of her reverie. When Joy didn’t answer him, he hit her in the chest with his gun. “Didn’t you?”
“Why are you doing this, Trent? I’m your sister…your twin…”
“That’s exactly why I’m doing this and you know it! You abandoned me when I needed you most and you never looked back. You went on to become this famous, adored singer and you left me to rot in that pathetic excuse for a mental health facility.”
“I couldn’t help you any longer, Trent.” Joy had tears running down her face. “I spent my entire life up to that point trying to help you, but I was only a child myself. I didn’t know how.”
“You knew how to manipulate our mother just fine.”
Joy was flabbergasted. Was that really how he saw it? “She manipulated me, Trent, all of us. She destroyed you. She ran Hope as far away as she could get and she pushed me into a career and a life I didn’t want so that she could have the things that she had always dreamed of. We were all damaged by her, Trent. Myself as well as you.”
He laughed. Joy was buckled in tightly, but she still gripped onto the seat as he drove with one hand way too fast around the tight curves. “Right. We were all damaged. Let’s take stock, shall we? Hope is living in Ireland with her family, something I will never have. Her husband works for the U.S. embassy and makes a ton of money. Her kids go to private school. Hope dresses in designer clothes and travels around the world. You are a famous singer. You are adored by people all over the world. You have how many gold and platinum albums now? You are getting ready to sign a contract that will make you billions in the years to come. You own two houses and God knows what all else. You travel all over the world.
“Now let’s look at my life, shall we? I sit in a facility with people that drool on themselves all day, every day. I watch a lot of television as my brain turns to mush. I eat processed food that tastes like cardboard and I can’t go outside unsupervised much less travel the world. I got the shit end of the deal my entire life. You had the chance to help me. You had the money and the opportunity to hire an attorney that could have gotten me off…but you chose not to. If not for my knowledge of the law and my ability to change myself into whatever I want to be, I’d be sitting in a level four prison right now, maybe on death row. The worst part of that is you wouldn’t give a shit, would you?”
“Of course I would care, Trent. You’re my brother.”
He slammed the gun into her face that time, knocking her head back into the seat and snapping her neck. She cried out in shock and pain, touching her sore nose with a shaky hand.
Blood ran down her face as he said, “Liar. How long did it take you to realize that wasn’t me in the infirmary? I’ve spent six months hiding out and biding my time, waiting for you to show up and realize it. I couldn’t wait any longer because you were probably never going to show up. How can you claim you care when you didn’t rush to your twin’s bedside after he was horribly burned?”
“Who is that in that bed, Trent? Who did you hurt this time?”
He scoffed at her and said, “Some nobody. He made it so easy. All I had to do was promise those morons in the kitchen that I would mutilate their families to get to him and when I did, he cried and begged for his life. Funny thing is that if he had died that day, I would have been found out a lot sooner.” He smiled broadly. “I should thank him for not dying.”
“He had no quality of life, Trent, he may as well be dead. And what about his family?”
He rolled his eyes. “If he has a family like mine he probably wants to thank me.”
“You need to stop this now, Trent. Turn yourself in. I promise, I’ll help you this time.” He didn’t say anything and she hoped that was because she was getting through to him. “That man you shot today is associated with all of the law enforcement in this county. Everyone will be looking for you.”
Joy’s mind went back to what happened at the B&B.
Marcus continued to hold his gun on Trent, and Trent continued to hold his to Rosa’s head. Grant looked like he was about to implode.
“Put the gun down, man. Ask my sister, I don’t make empty threats.”
Joy avoided both Marcus and Grant’s eyes. She didn’t want either of them to do anything for her at that point. She was worried about Rosa. She couldn’t bear the thought of being responsible for anything happening to the mother of that beautiful little girl, especially in front of the man who obviously loved her so much. She saw Marcus glance at Grant out of the corner of her eye. Grant nodded slightly, almost imperceptibly, and Marcus lowered his gun.
“Throw it on the ground at my feet,” Trent ordered. Marcus complied, although reluctantly. Trent looked at Grant and said, “Now you.”
Grant slipped his hand in the waistband of his jeans and brought out a handgun. He tossed it on the floor next to Marcus’s. Trent lifted one foot and kicked them both backwards so they were behind him. “Now, you two into the kitchen.”
Marcus and Grant did as they were told again. Joy didn’t blame them. If they refused, Rosa would be dead and even if they got Trent in the process, that wouldn’t bring her back.
Once Trent had them in the kitchen he told Marcus to open the pantry door. Marcus did as he was told and Trent smiled. “Nice little hiding place, huh? I hid there all morning. No one knew. Get inside.”
Marcus and Grant stepped inside, their bodies clearly tense and on edge, and Trent pushed Rosa forward. She stumbled and almost fell. Grant caught her and she clung onto him tearfully. “Isn’t that sweet. Let go of him, pretty lady, and grab that duct tape off the shelf right there to your left.”
Rosa looked like she wasn’t going to let go of Grant but he gently detached her hands from his shirt and took a small step back before whispering, “It’s okay, baby. Just do as he says. It’ll be okay.”
Joy thought about Ariana again. Rosa and Grant had to be going crazy with fear at that point that she would walk in. Joy thought it was what likely prompted Rosa to go through with what Trent had her do next. She used the thick, silver tape to bind Grant’s hands and feet. Trent ordered her to put one over his mouth as well. She was sobbing and apologizing as she slid the piece of tape over his lips. Joy saw him wink at her and thought how beautiful their love must be.
Rosa was ordered to do the same to Marcus, who knew if she followed through, it might be hours before they were discovered. As soon as she tore the first piece of tape, Marcus grabbed her wrists and threw her behind him. Joy didn’t know what his plan was from there because before he could do anything else, Trent pulled the trigger on the gun he was holding. The boom of it so close to her ears made Joy scream and then the sight of bright red blood blooming on Marcus’s chest and him falling on his knees made her scream even louder.
“Shut up!” Trent ordered her. Joy tried, but all she could think of was Sadie and his babies. She cursed Trent and a God that would make a monster like him. She didn’t realize she was saying any of it out loud until he hit her with the gun for the first time. “I said, shut up! Go tie her up and finish tying him up too.” He pushed her toward the pantry. She looked down at Marcus and Rosa’s pale, shocked face.
“He’s hurt, Trent…”
“I don’t give a fuck. Use that tape and tie. Him. Up.”
“I’m sorry,” she mouthed to Rosa as she took the tape and shakily did as she was told. Next, she used the tape to fasten Rosa’s hands together as the poor woman sobbed. When she’d finished, Trent had her close the pantry doors and took her out to the van he was driving and pushed her inside.
That was almost an hour ago. She prayed that Grant, Marcus, and Rosa had gotten loose and she prayed the police were already on their way and catching up to them. As she wiped blood from her face with the back of her hand she realized that was a fantasy. She was at Trent’s mercy, at the mercy of a monster. Her only saving grace just might be the phone that she still had in her pocket. She didn’t know much about GPS, but she knew enough to know to get rid of her own phone before she left on vacation. People could be tracked that way and as she slowly slid her hand down into her pocket, she prayed that was something that Blossom Hill’s sheriff’s department knew how to do.