I Do (Hate You) by Sienna Blake

James

My plan to ambush Clive outside the villa worked perfectly. Well, it started off perfectly and then went to shit.

As Clive stepped out on the porch and then on the path, I came out from behind the bush like I was out for a walk. He was lighting a smelly brown cigarette, so he didn’t notice me coming until I was almost on top of him.

He was not pleased to see me.

“What do you want?” he asked, then took a long drag on the cigarette.

“Answers,” I said, scanning his jacket, wondering if he had a gun or a knife under there. I was pretty damn good in a fist fight but if he was armed, then I was screwed.

“What’s the question?” he growled.

“Why did you kidnap me two nights ago?”

Clive didn’t even bother to look shocked or to deny the accusation. “You have no proof that I did.”

The smug bastard was right. Time to bluff. “How do you know I don’t?”

“If you had proof, you’d have called the police instead of confronting me.”

Well, fuck.

“Clive, kidnapping me must have something to do with Rupert. If you just tell me how he’s involved, then he’s the one who’ll get blamed. I know you don’t want any trouble.”

“You don’t know shit,” he said and stomped out his cigarette.

We both turned as we heard the front door open and Shell babbling something about menus and cake. She went on for another few seconds about icing and chocolate sauce, just enough time for me to disappear down the path and around the corner.

“Okay, bye then!” Shell called out and I heard the door close behind her. I was too afraid that Rupert would spot me through the window, so I stayed in my hiding spot. When she walked down the path, I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her behind the building.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, let go!” she said into my fingers that had clamped down on her mouth so she wouldn’t scream.

“I didn’t want them to see us together,” I explained. “Clive knows I’m onto him, but there’s no reason he has to know that you’re suspicious too.”

“Hands off the lipstick. Brooke mixed it just for me,” she said, and I slowly pulled my hand away.

“Huh?” was all I could come up with to say.

“Oh, never mind. What did you find out from Clive?” she asked.

“Nothing other than he definitely did it.”

“Did he actually admit it?” she asked, her beautiful blue eyes wide with shock.

“No, but instead of denying it, he just told me that I couldn’t prove it.”

Shell shrugged and then let out a little yelp when she saw how muddy the ground was below us, and she pulled the bottom of her dress up even higher. There was definitely a brown streak along the hem.

“Why is it so sloppy here?” she asked. “It hasn’t rained for days.”

“The wall’s wet too,” I pointed out. “Oh, this must be where that broken pipe was that the workmen were talking about. The curtain is pulled down, but I can see the edge of a bathtub through the window. I think they must have diverted the water out the window and into the garden until they could stop it from gushing out. I feel bad for the poor bastard who’s staying in this villa.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do,” I said, annoyed by her low opinion of me. “I’m not totally devoid of sympathy, you know.”

“Calm down. What I mean is that your mortal enemy Clive is staying here. It’s all a part of the groom’s complex. It has a separate entrance but an indoor walkway to the main part of Rupert’s villa. I feel sure you don’t feel bad for Clive being inconvenienced by a burst pipe.”

“That can’t be a coincidence,” I said.

“Yes, it can,” Shell insisted. “We don’t know who put us in those handcuffs. The two of us could have done it to each other for all we know. Maybe Clive really was helping you home after you got drunk or got roofied or whatever. Something obviously went very wrong last night but the fact that a pipe busted in his bathroom has nothing to do with it.”

“Then why were we wet when we woke up the next morning?” I asked, convinced I was on to something.

She scoffed. “I have no idea. Maybe we took a shower or got caught in a sprinkler or jumped in the pool. Who knows?”

“I’m going in there,” I said, putting one foot on an air conditioning unit that was near the window and trying to pull myself up by a tree branch.

“You are not!” Shell said, yanking me down with the hand that wasn’t holding up her dress.

“I’m going up there and you can’t stop me, Shell.”

“You’ll get caught,” she insisted.

“Then come with me and be my lookout in case someone walks down the hall or goes in the bathroom.”

“No.”

“I won’t ever ask you to do anything again,” I swore.

“You already made that promise then broke it today. Try going for a different lie to keep things interesting.”

“That’s okay. I’ll go alone,” I said, pulling away from her and leaping back up on the AC unit, knowing she was being logical, but I still really needed someone to watch my back. I leaned over to try to work the bathroom window up and noticed there was a gap large enough for me to wiggle my pinky under. After a few tries, I slowly slid the window open and swung my body up and through the hole.

“This is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” she said below me. “Now help me up.”

 

* * *

 

I’d pulled Shell up as carefully as I could, but I noticed a wet smudge on the front of her white dress when her robe fell open. Her bridal updo hairstyle was slowly coming loose. I thought it was sexy as hell but I was glad to see she breezed past the bathroom window without checking herself out.

She tiptoed out of the bathroom and into Clive’s adjoining bedroom. His door was pulled to with a crack just a few centimeters wide. We’d had a lot of practice hiding behind doors that weekend and she expertly smashed herself against the wall and stuck her eye close to the gap. I waited until she gave me the thumbs up sign before I went to go look at that pipe.

I could see where the workers had sealed the broken pipe and reattached it to the wall, but I wasn’t sure what else to look for.

“Do you see anything suspicious?” Shell whispered from the other door.

“Not yet.”

I dropped to my knees and looked through the trash can, under the rug and even inside the toilet paper roll. Nothing. Then I saw the metal shavings on the floor that looked like the same metal as the handcuffs. I had noticed that the chain in between was worn but I just assumed they were old. This looked like maybe they’d been scraped on something. The pipe?

I snaked my hands behind the toilet, and my hands closed around a phone. When I pulled it out, I recognized the sleek black case with the red volume button on the side. I swiped the glass and saw my familiar screensaver of Logan, Rhys and me cannonballing off a houseboat we’d rented the summer before.

Jackpot.

If my phone was behind the toilet, then Clive must have brought me back here after he drugged me. I put my hand back down and felt around again and a diamond earring rolled out. Shell had said she was missing one yesterday morning. I might expect to find it in her fiancé’s bathroom, but not his bodyguard’s.

I almost yelped when Shell whispered at my side, “What did you find?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching the door?” I asked when my heart slowly moved from my throat back down to my chest.

“We’re good for a few minutes. I heard Rupert tell Clive that he was going to make a call that should take about ten minutes and Clive say he was going to take a smoke break on the back patio. Hey. What’s in your hand?”

I held out my phone and her earring, then pointed to the metal shavings on the floor.

“My earring,” was all she said.

“This proves that we were in here two nights ago and handcuffed, clearly trying to get away. The shavings are right under the break in the pipe. We must have been handcuffed to it and jerked the pipe down. It all makes sense now.”

Shell kept staring at the evidence without saying a word, so I tried to jumpstart her into action. “It’s time to confront Rupert.”

I took two steps toward the door before she grabbed the back of my shirt.

“James, I’m sure there is an innocent explanation for all of this,” she said softly.

“Like what? I was just lounging on Clive’s bathroom floor playing Candy Crush on my phone while you couldn’t find your jewelry box, so you tossed your earring behind his toilet?”

“I think this looks really bad for Clive, but we don’t know that Rupert is involved. It would be a 180 from his entire personality. Rupert does not drug or kidnap people or aid and abet those who do.”

“I know you don’t want to believe it, but all the evidence points to him being involved. Let’s at least ask Rupert and Clive,” I said.

“The moment I accuse them of this is the moment that Rupert cancels our wedding. Would you marry someone who thought you were capable of this?”

“No,” I admitted.

“Just let me get through today,” she begged. “Then tomorrow, I can talk to Rupert about getting rid of Clive and finding out what he did and why.”

“You are un-fucking-believable, Shell! You are so wrapped up in having the perfect wedding and the perfect life that you can’t manage to see how obvious this is,” I said, my voice getting louder with anger until she shushed me. “Look, I don’t care if he’s your fiancé, I’m going to go confront him.”

“This is my birthday all over again,” Shell said, grabbing the back of my shirt once more.

“What are you talking about?”

“This is just like my birthday last year when you sabotaged my relationship with Luke.”

“Who the hell is Luke?” I asked, wondering why we had to have this ridiculous discussion right now.

“He was my boyfriend before you left a long and rambling message on my voicemail about how you had a present for me.”

“So?”

She got up in my face. “The present was all about how you wanted to fuck my brains out just like you did at my brother’s wedding. You said that May twenty-third would be your favorite day of the year if only you could bend me over in a hot tub that night. Then you went into great detail about what my pussy tastes like and how you wanted to make me scream your name.”

“I’m sorry, but why would you ever play that voicemail for your boyfriend?” I asked.

“I was trying to play it on my phone, but I accidentally connected to the Bluetooth speaker on his car, and it played for his entire family, including his eighty-five-year-old grandmother. I dropped the phone and desperately searched for it on the floorboards while you described my ‘tight little twat’ and what you’d done to it the last time we’d been together.”

I really, really, really didn’t mean to laugh.

But I did.

It looked like she was going to slap me. “Go fuck yourself, James,” she said. “You ruined that relationship but you’re not going to ruin this one.”

“Shell. Shell! Where are you going?”

“To go get married.”

Then she sat down on the windowsill, slid her legs through and dropped to the ground.