The Worst Best Man(35)

“Okay. Maybe if I just don’t look at you.”

“For the love of god, Chip. I need you to climb up on this railing and shimmy your ass to another room with an open balcony door. We need to go. Now!”

Chip peered down to the terrace below. “Jesus, Frankie, that’s like instant death!”

Frankie grabbed his face in her hand and squeezed his cheeks until he made fish lips. He closed his eyes so he didn’t have to stare at her head wound. “Chip, do you want to marry Pru today or not?”

“Yesh.”

“Then get your ass up there and shimmy over to the next balcony.”

“Okah.”

She released his face and pushed him toward the railing.

“You’re coming too, right?”

“I’ll be right behind you. Just out of curiosity, what did Aiden have to do with all this?”

Chip paused on all fours balancing. “It’s not his fault.”

They heard raised voices coming from inside the suite. “Go. We’ll talk later.” Frankie shooed him further down the ledge and ran back into the room.

She’d barricade the door to buy them a little time. At least that was her plan when she tried to pick up the nightstand. The bedroom door burst open.

Asshole Kidnapper stared at her for two full seconds before losing his shit.

“Who are you, and where’s—”

“Your kidnapping victim? My friend Chip? You want to know where he is?” Frankie’s voice was rising. Her fingers closed around the alarm clock and iPhone charger on the nightstand.

“Yes!” he shrieked, tearing at his hair. “And why is there blood everywhere? Did you kill him?”

“What’s going on—” The man in the doorway didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence because Frankie hit Asshole in the face as hard as she could with the alarm clock.

He doubled over, screaming. More blood rained down on the white carpet. Frankie gave him another whack for good measure that knocked him to his knees.

“I tried to keep this civilized,” Asshole shrieked.

Frankie turned on the second man and hefted the alarm clock.

“You want a turn, Kilbourn?”

Aiden held up both hands. “Hang on there, slugger. Why are you bleeding?”

“Why am I bleeding? Why am I bleeding?” she laughed. “I’m bleeding for the same reason your best friend is missing his wedding. Because of you.”

“Franchesca, I can explain.”

“I don’t want an explanation! You’re too late. Chip’s already long gone—”

“Uh, Frankie?”

“Chip! What the fuck?”

Chip peeked through the patio door looking sheepish.

“So, I found a room that was open, but it was occupied, and I think they’re calling security.”

“Back up, Kilbourn. Just back the fuck up,” Frankie ordered, wielding the alarm clock.

“Hey, Aiden.”

“Good to see you, Chip.”

“Don’t talk to him. And don’t you come near us!” Frankie inched past Aiden, dragging Chip with one arm while holding the alarm clock pointed in Aiden’s direction.

Asshole Kidnapper moaned on the floor. “She broke my nose.”

“Good,” the three of them answered.

“Now, Chip and I are going to walk out of here, and you both are going to let us, or I’m going to start screaming bloody murder, and all of resort security will be breaking down that door in thirty seconds.”

Frankie backed them toward the door to the suite.

When Aiden made a move to follow, she shook her head. “Uh-uh, buddy. You’re persona non-grata. You stay here with your pal. We’ve got a wedding to get to.”

“You should probably do what she says,” Chip suggested to Aiden. “She’s terrifying when she’s mad.”

“I can see that,” Aiden said, looking more amused than terrified.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” Frankie growled. “I’ll make sure you regret this. Let’s go, Chip.”

“Hey, do you want a ride, Aiden?” Chip offered.

Frankie slapped him on the arm. “No, he doesn’t want a ride. Kidnappers don’t get rides from their victims.”

“Awh, Frankie, he didn’t really kidnap me.”

“Then he conspired to kidnap you.”

“No, I didn’t!”

“No, he didn’t!”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Frankie said, finally understanding just exactly how mad a parent had to be to use those words.

She pushed Chip out into the hallway. “Stay,” she said, pointing at Aiden who was helping his brother to his feet. “If either of you try to follow us, I’ll kill you.”

“I think the crazy maid means it,” Elliot stage whispered, still clutching his nose and looking terrified. “Lo siento, lady. Lo siento.”

“Seriously? We’re in Barbados, you idiot!”

She pulled the door shut and then pushed Chip toward the stairs. “Go! Go! Go!”

They sprinted to the basement and burst through the double doors. Footsteps sounded a floor or two above them. Flor in Frankie’s sundress was stocking a cart with mini shampoos.