The Worst Best Man(17)

“You don’t think Pru’s dad would have done this. Do you?” Frankie asked, eyes wide.

“He hates Chip,” Aiden conceded. “But I don’t see R.L. Stockton plotting an abduction. He’d just stick it to Chip in the prenup.”

“Which he did,” Frankie pointed out.

“That he did,” Aiden agreed. He’d cautioned Chip against signing it, but his friend wouldn’t hear of it.

“Still, maybe something Chip did pissed R.L. off?” Franchesca mused.

There was a loud bang, and the ZR slowed. Smoke rose from its engine. The driver swore over the reggae pouring from the speakers as the dashboard lit up with warning lights. He pulled off to the side of the road and jumped out, a small fire extinguisher in his hand.

“Get out,” Aiden said, nudging Frankie to the door.

“How are we going to catch them?” she demanded, ducking to hop out of the door and the hem of her dress rose indecently high over the curve of her ass. Aiden gripped the material and pulled down as he pushed her out of the vehicle. “We can’t give up.” She slapped at his hand.

“We’re not giving up,” Aiden insisted. “We’re refocusing. Come on.” They left the van and its now ride-less occupants and started walking briskly.

The night air was thick with humidity. He could hear the steady thrum of ocean waves on the beach over a thousand tree frogs chirping.

“Shouldn’t we be heading north?” Frankie asked, trotting in her heels to keep up with him.

Aiden slowed his pace in the hopes that she wouldn’t break both ankles.

“We’re not going to be able to catch them.”

“So where are we going?”

“I don’t know, Franchesca. I need to think.”

He hadn’t brought any security with him, doubted that the Randolphs or Stocktons had either. The hotel had its own. Why would they need a personal security detail in paradise? He cursed himself for it now. His friend was missing, and he had no one but the local authorities to turn to.

Frankie stumbled and yelped.

“Your shoes are ridiculous.”

“I wasn’t planning on walking eighteen miles tonight.”

“Clearly,” he said dryly. He stepped in front of her. “Get on.”

“I beg your pardon?” She sounded haughty as a queen who had just been asked to perform the Cupid Shuffle.

“Hop on and save your feet.”

“You’re not lugging me around Barbados on your back, Aide,” Frankie argued.

“Get on my back now, or I throw you over my shoulder and show the entire island your pretty pink thong.”

She hopped nimbly onto his back, her thighs settling on his hips, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“This isn’t exactly how I saw the night going,” Aiden announced conversationally. He cupped his hands behind his back under her ass. “I thought I’d have you on your back.”

She pinched him through the crisp cotton of his button down. “Hilarious, big guy. Fucking hilarious. Come up with a plan yet?”

“Still thinking,” he said, boosting her up higher.

“I don’t think it was random,” Frankie said thoughtfully. “I don’t think it was like ‘Hey, nice watch, now get in my van.’”

“Which means he was specifically targeted,” Aiden added.

“This is going to crush Pru,” Franchesca said half to herself. “She loves him so damn much. Did you know that when he broke up with her after college, she couldn’t get out of bed for a week? We just laid there and stared at the ceiling. She wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t get dressed. She didn’t even really talk for days. Her dad had the family doctor visiting her every day.”

Aiden felt the stirring of guilt. “I didn’t realize she cared so much for him back then.” He hadn’t. Had thought she’d been indifferent and immature.

“He crushed her when he left, and it took her a long time to get back on her feet. Now, if I were her, I would have spent the rest of my life hating him. But not Pru. She never stopped loving him. And now here we are in paradise for their wedding all these years later, and look what happens.”

“We’ll get him back,” Aiden promised.

“Do you think they’ll hurt him?” Her arms tightened around him.

Aiden heard the fear in her tone and reacted to it. “No,” he said, his voice gruff. “Odds are they took him for money. They lose their bargaining tool if they rough him up or—”

“Or worse,” she finished for him.

“They’re supposed to get married tomorrow. What am I going to tell her? God, why would anyone do this? Money? Ransom? Oh, Jesus. He doesn’t have ties to the mob, does he?”

“Doubtful,” Aiden said wryly.

They heard the groaning of brakes as a city bus eased to a stop beside them. Aiden let Frankie slip off his back to the ground. “Let’s go get some answers.”





Chapter Ten


As much as Frankie enjoyed seeing all six-feet four-inches of Aiden Kilbourn crammed onto a bus seat, nothing could take away the icy feeling in her stomach. Someone had taken her friend right in front of her and who knew what was happening to him right now. She hated the not knowing.