mouth on you,” the man snapped. “That’s a dangerous thing to have.”
“A mouth is a dangerous thing to have?” Chantal quipped back.
Okay.
Who. The. Fuck. Was. She?
Had the kidnapping somehow sparked a sassy bone in her body? It was hardly the time to discover her inner sass monster. This guy looked like he wanted to kill her, yet there she was mouthing off like she had been born to do it.
With a calming breath, she tried to clear her thoughts. WWMD? What would Margie do? Well, if Chantal was honest, she knew Margie would have been a lippy, attitude queen if she had been kidnapped. But really, Margie would probably have been a slobbering mess. She didn’t do well with challenges.
Clearly, that wouldn’t serve in this situation. Chantal still had to try something.
There was only one thing she could do to survive.
She had to become Chacha.
Not the nickname her friends and family used.
Nope.
The Chacha who had taken a stranger to bed on New Year’s Eve.
It was risky. She had no idea what would happen, but she wouldn’t just sit there and let these men threaten her or use her to get to Rush.
WWCD?
What. Would. Chantal. Do?
“Look, I have no idea who you are. I’m scared, tired, and honestly? I really have to pee. You think you can stand there and look all intimidating and scary? Fine. But I would think that you have been in this situation enough to know that different people react in different ways. Apparently, when I’m kidnapped, I turn into a motormouth. It is as surprising to me as it is to you, I assure you. Usually, I’m a shy person who doesn’t speak unless it is absolutely necessary.”
“Shut her up,” the leader, Spike, said.
Chantal barely had time to cry out in protest before one of the goons put a piece of cloth in her mouth. She tried to not gag on it, not knowing where the handkerchief had been before it found its way into her mouth.
Obviously, trying to reason with the kidnapper had not been a good idea.
“Now that we’ve got you nice and quiet, you’re going to listen to me very carefully.” The man leaned down in front of her. “Your boyfriend owes me a lot of money. Way more than he could repay.”
Shit.
Did this guy really think that holding her for ransom was going to light a fire under Rush’s ass to get the money? This was hardly the way to go about things.
“We’re going to call your mate, and if he wants to see you alive again, and not chopped up into little pieces, he’ll pay me back with interest.”
Am I supposed to cooperate? she thought to herself.
“You’re just some lousy human. You don’t matter.”
You’re wrong. I’m not a lousy human. I’m a friend, daughter, girlfriend, at least, sort of. I’m one hell of a talented designer. I have plans for the future. I have hopes and expectations and things I want to accomplish. I will get out of here, and when I do, you will wish you never messed with Chantal ‘Chacha’ Katz.
Now, she just had to find a way to actually get out of there. Being a designer, she was a problem solver. She had watched so many reality television shows where the designer had to complete these insane challenges to get to the next round. All she had to do was scan the room, find what she had to work with, and attack this as a reality TV challenge.
It was real life, and the stakes couldn’t be higher, but it was all she had.
Just her and her wits.
Chapter Nineteen
Rush
Rush was staring at the Jensen bank account on his laptop. He had been doing so for the last few hours, trying to come up with a solid solution. The problem was there was barely anything there. February first was in less than two weeks, and he didn’t have the money.
He wouldn’t have the money.
Should he have taken the cash from Jeremy? Maybe.
It felt wrong to do that. Rush didn’t know Jeremy well enough to gauge how a loan from him would play out. He needed to talk all of this out with someone. And not just anyone. With Chantal, his awesome mate, who he had completely blown off tonight. All because he was too much in his own head. He really had to get better at letting her into his life.
Even the nasty bits.
Rush knew Chantal would have something comforting to say; she would have this great insight. At the