my thoughts into words. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Oh, didn’t I say?” The man smiled again. This time, it almost looked real. “I’m here for Ariel.”
My jaw dropped. “You’re the person who kidnapped him?”
“Well, one of.” The guy looked pleased, of all things. “I suppose I can’t take all the credit. I was the brains behind the operation, but technically, it was my team that took him. Or do I mean ‘napped’ him? What’s the proper verb here?”
I stared at him, slack-jawed. The guy was confessing to having kidnapped Ari and he was worried about semantics?
“In any case,” the man continued, “we lost him, we’ve been looking for him, and now, thanks to you, we’ve found him again.” He shook his head in what almost looked like amusement. “You did us a favor, splashing his face all over the internet. My guys swore they saw him, but they’d been swearing they’d seen him every other day for a month. I’d just about given up when those pictures came out.”
My stomach fell to the bottom of my shoes, then rolled off the cliff for good measure.
“Well, you’re out of luck,” I said, taking all the fear I felt at having a fucking gun pointed at me and channeling it into anger instead. “He’s gone.”
“Bullshit.”
“One hundred percent true,” I countered. “He left.”
For all I knew, this guy might have watched Daisy’s car leave, depending on how long he’d been on my property. I hoped he’d arrived after they’d left. The idea of him hanging around watching us was unnerving.
“I think you’re lying.”
“You’re welcome to think that. But it’s true. He left an hour to go meet his—oh, fuck.”
I stopped short. Partly because it had just occurred to me that I shouldn’t give any more information about Ari’s whereabouts to, you know, the crazy guy with the gun, but also because it had just hit me that said crazy-guy-with-gun looked awfully familiar.
“Oh, Christ. You’re his father.”
I’d googled Ari’s family this afternoon. I’d needed to find a picture to send to the gatehouse staff. Shit, no wonder they’d let him in. I’d explicitly told them they should.
“Oh God, no.” The man sounded offended. Like I’d accused him of being a war criminal. This, from someone who was pointing a gun at me. “Gross.”
“What do you mean, no? You are. I’ve seen your picture.”
“I have no doubt about that, but I am not Bobby Vaughn.”
“Then who the hell are you?”
“Tsk, tsk.” The guy shook his head in disappointment. “Really? Are those the kinds of manners you show to a guest?”
“Trespassing on my property to kidnap my—to kidnap Ari—does not make you my guest, asshole.”
“You really do have a temper, don’t you? I read about that, in tabloids, but I had no idea that was accurate.” The man cocked his head to the side. “I wonder if that means the other things I read are true as well.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
I didn’t have to try to channel fear into anger anymore. I was straight up pissed now, and wondered if I could maneuver the guy so he was the one with his back to the cliff.
“Well, I know you can’t believe everything you read,” the man said, “but there was at least one website I saw—what was the name? God, my brain these days. I really need to start taking ginkgo. Or is it ginseng? Which one’s the one for memory?”
He stared out into space for a moment, then shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, I suppose. The point is, this site was saying that you and Ariel were shacking up together. An item. Doing the horizontal tango, so to speak. Gotta say, I’m not really surprised to hear that about him. But you? That was a surprise. So, tell me—does he take it like a good little bitch? Or is it you who likes getting it up the ass?”
I threw myself forward, only to stop after three steps when he clicked the safety off the gun.
“Uh-uh-uh.” The guy said. “Let’s just remember who’s in charge here, pal.”
“I still don’t even know who the fuck you are,” I growled, “but if you think you can make me do anything, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“Pretty sure I have a gun, so I can make you do whatever I want. But I’ll do you a favor, and answer your question. Then you can do me a favor. That’s how civilized people do things, isn’t it?” He smiled placidly. “I’m Eddie Vaughn. Ariel’s uncle. And if you don’t tell