Page 5 of Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad World

“Call whoever you need to call. Check it out.” He sounded reasonable and appeared completely relaxed.

In her experience, kidnappers didn’t behave this way.

The last ones she’d encountered hadn’t been calm at all.

She glanced around, searching for her phone before remembering it was still beside her bed. There was an old-fashioned wired landline on the wall near Noah’s head, but she didn’t dare go near it for fear he’d grab her.

“I don’t have a phone,” she said.

He took one out of his jacket pocket and tossed it to her. It slipped through her fingers and landed on the floor.

Annabelle winced. “Sorry.” Then she realized she was apologizing to her captor and felt incredibly stupid.

Clutching the desk to steady herself, she retrieved the phone and stood back up. The screen displayed an image of the same two boys in the family photo. They looked older this time, and their eyes were sad—like their father’s.

She tapped the screen. “It’s password protected.”

“Linebacker360, capital L and no spaces.” There was no hesitation in his reply.

“You shouldn’t give people your password,” she said automatically.

His smile was wider this time, softening his bulldog appearance. “I think I can trust you.”

A loud thump on the door made Annabelle jump. She dropped the phone again, and it slid across the floor toward Noah.

This time, she didn’t apologize.

“Open the door,” an angry female voice demanded. “Noah, open the bloody door.”

“My partner.” Noah sounded weary. “I apologize in advance for anything she does or says. May I?” He pointed at the phone. “She’ll keep banging on the door unless I talk to her. I could shout, but you look like your head hurts, so it might be better to call.”

Annabelle nodded slowly. “Put it on speaker,” she managed to say.

“Of course.” He leaned forward to grab his phone, tapped the screen, then placed it face upward on his thigh.

Another loud thump on the door. This time, it sounded like a kick.

The phone rang inside and outside the room, making the situation even more surreal.

“Open the door,” the angry voice said when she answered the call.

Scottish?Annabelle blinked, trying to clear her head. “Your wife’s Scottish?”

“Not wife. Work partner,” Noah said.

There was another kick at the door. “Get her out of there, Merchant. We’re running out of time.”

“Stop banging the door, Violet,” Noah said. “You’re scaring Annabelle.”

“She should be scared,” Violet shouted. “Her life’s in danger, and she’s wasting time. We need to get her to a safe location. Fast.”

“A safe location?” Annabelle pressed a hand to her stomach as a wave of nausea assaulted her.

They couldn’t mean…

“Yes,” Violet snapped. “We need to leave.”

Leave?