BLIND: A Mastermind Novel (18 page)

“Perfect. Just let me send this to my wingman.”

“Take your time.”

She sent both pictures off to Nicole and her phone immediately vibrated with a responding text.

Oh my GAWD, is that him? YES!! Go to his house and climb all over that mountain of muscle! And WTF is this other picture? It looks like a distorted reflection of your face and a car? Did you mean to send that?

Good enough. She turned her phone off, knowing Nicole’s questions could get relentless.  Stuffing it in her bag, she nodded at Pennyworth. “Let’s do this.”

Again, he handed her the blindfold. She carefully pulled it over her eyes, blacking out the world. Her arms extended as she worked to tie it without pulling her hair. Once it was in place she was immediately disoriented.

Mr. Pennyworth placed a gentle hand on her upper arm. “I’ll guide you to the car.
” 
It was strange, this man could have been Mr. Stone, but something told her he wasn’t. Still, she noted his cologne to make sure. Lots of tricks could be played on a woman in a blindfold.

As the door clicked open she had the sudden thought Mr. Stone might be in the car. “Is there anyone else in the car?”

“No, ma’am. Just us.”

She wasn’t sure if that was a relief or made things worse.

“Watch your head, please.”

Ha. Ha. She couldn’t watch anything. She was freaking blind!

As though she were being fed into the backseat of a squad car, she unseeingly fondled her way over the soft leather seat. The door shut with a quiet click and the temptation to peek while she was alone intensified. Before she’d decided to take the opportunity, the front door opened and the car slightly shifted with the weight of the driver.

The front door shut and the sound of fabric brushing over leather met her ears. “If you reach your hands out in front of you, I left a bottle of water for you. Mr. Stone suggested you drink it to calm your nerves.”

She reached out, finding Mr. Stone’s thoughtfulness comforting, as though he were there with her. Cool plastic met her fingers as her hand closed over the offering. “Thank you.”

“Do you think you can find the seatbelt on your own?”

Her mind was so overwhelmed she found his question incredibly difficult to answer. Gripping the water bottle between her knees, she patted around for the buckle and glided it over her chest. Her other hand located the cool latch as she directed the seatbelt into the hole. Mr. Pennyworth must have heard the click.

“Shall we?”

“Yes,
”
she rasped, her belly turning as if the car were a roller coaster cart on the cusp of a drop off.

“If you want to return home at any time, just say the word, Ms. Farrow. I’m at your service.”

“Thank you.”

“Please keep the blindfold on or I’ll have to turn the vehicle around, okay?”

“Yes.”

The car slowly lurched forward and her stomach lurched and dropped. The soles of her feet tingled as they picked up speed. This was it. Retrieving the bottle from between her knees, she inspected the cap with her fingertips. It was difficult to tell if anyone had tampered with it.

Holding it close to her ear, she gave it a turn, the resistance of the seal broke with a snap as the tiny plastic teeth separated. Chances were the water wasn’t rigged. Thank God because she was thirsty as hell. She was being extremely paranoid, but in a situation like this, who wouldn’t be?

The plastic crunched as she chugged several deep swallows, sounding obnoxious and loud in the silence of the car. Maybe it only sounded loud to her because she was blindfolded and her other senses were heightened.

The car was the perfect temperature, not too cool and not too warm, though she’d started to sweat. The air held the scent of leather, Armor All, and traces of Mr. Pennyworth. The memory of the driver’s appearance was already blurry and she regretted not taking a longer look at him before he drove her God knew where. Later on she’d go back to his picture and
really
study it.

Shit. She was sitting there playing with water and classifying the car rather than trying to track where they were going. Her body swayed with each carefully steered turn and her mind grew frustrated trying to decipher where they were headed.

Why was she being so quiet? Mr. Stone had said she could speak freely to Mr. Pennyworth. Deciding to take advantage of the opportunity, she sat forward. “Do you drive for a company or are you only Mr. Stone’s chauffeur?”

She was surprised how easily he answered. “I only work for Mr. Stone, but this is the first time I’ve acted as his chauffeur.”

“Oh. What do you normally do for him?
”
Hit man? Thug? Hole digger?

“I’m also his personal trainer.”

“Oh.
”
That made sense, since he was enormous. Also, Mr. Stone had mentioned having a trainer, so that added to his credibility.

She tried to figure out a way to politely phrase a question regarding Mr. Stone’s appearance. “Do you train him often?”

“Three sessions a day.”

Wow. Mr. Stone was likely as enormous as Mr. Pennyworth. She barely exercised. “Are we going to a restaurant?”

“I’m taking you to a private residence.”

“Mr. Stone’s?”

“One of them.
”
Interesting.

“How far is it?”

“Not much farther. We should be there in about twenty minutes.”

“Has Mr. Stone ever been married?”

“I’m afraid all questions regarding his personal life must be directed to him.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Not a problem. No harm in asking. I’ll let you know if I’m unable to answer.”

It was like twenty questions. She could get an answer—or at least some helpful information—if she phrased the question properly. “Does Mr. Stone usually have guests like this?”

“I can’t disclose that information.”

Damn it.
She tried again. “Do you have any sisters or a wife or girlfriend?”

“I’m single right now. Why? You have friends?
”
He laughed. “I have a younger sister.”

She licked her lips. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

“Do you think I’m in danger? I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m a little out of my element.”

He was quiet for only a few seconds, but it was enough of a pause for her to panic. “Since meeting Mr. Stone, he’s never shown me an unkind side of himself. My experience with him has been
…
inspiring. He’s a very driven man, resolute, and dedicated to getting what he wants, but he isn’t a cruel person from what I’ve seen. As a matter of fact I find him refreshingly humble, but that’s just my personal opinion, ma’am.”

Humble? She wasn’t sure how that word applied to the Mr. Stone she knew. “Would you let your sister do what I’m doing?”

He laughed. “I may be driving you, Ms. Farrow, but I don’t know what your or Mr. Stone’s intentions are for the night. He’s a very private man. All I can do is assume. I’m extremely protective of my little sister and involving her in any sort of hypothetical having to do with my assumptions doesn’t make me happy. I prefer to think of my baby sister as a completely non-sexual being, if you know what I’m saying.”

She wasn’t having sex tonight. The confession nearly slipped out, but she understood what he was getting at. Mr. Pennyworth had obviously picked up on some sort of sexual intent from his employer. Her body shivered with new curiosity.

“Do you think I’m crazy for going to a stranger’s house blindfolded?”

He chuckled again. “People do all sorts of wild things. Who am I to judge them? We’re here.”

The car slowed and every muscle in her body tensed. “Can I remove the blindfold?”

“I’m afraid not. Are you ready?”

No.
She nodded yes anyway.

“I’ll escort you inside.”

The door opened too soon and her heart pounded with a need to rapidly decide if it would be fight or flight or enjoy the night.

“If you reach forward, you’ll find my hand.”

Her body went on autopilot. Her fingers touched the calloused palm of Mr. Pennyworth and she quietly blurted, “Will you be here the whole time?
”

Stupid to look to a stranger as a possible protector from another stranger, but he was all she had. However, she could rip off the blindfold if she felt cornered or threatened. But that would end everything and she wasn’t ready for that. Still, it was an option.

“I’ll be parked here the entire time. If at any time you express the desire to return home, I will happily and safely return you to your house, Ms. Farrow.”

She stood, nodding. Transferring his hold to her upper arm, he announced, “There are stairs. I’ll let you know when to step.”

She awkwardly shuffled her feet in the direction he led. When he told her to step, she did, following his direction carefully. Lacking sight left her unbalanced.

“Only a few more steps to the door, Ms. Farrow. You’re doing great.”

His vote of confidence was oddly comforting.

“Here we are. I’ll let you in and once Mr. Stone greets you, I’ll return to the car where I’ll be waiting to escort you home.”

“My purse!”

“Did you need it?”

“It has my phone and…
”
Her weapon.

“If you want, I can run and get it.”

“Please.”

Fingers closed around hers, guiding her hand until it rested on something cold and solid. “This is the railing. Hold on so you don’t lose your balance. I’ll be right back.”

She gripped the railing as the sound of his heavy steps faded and the car door opened and closed. A second later his hefty footfalls were approaching again. “Here you are, Ms. Farrow.
”
The purse slipped over her shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“Shall we?”

She blew out a calming breath that really did nothing to settle her edginess. “Yes, please.”

The moment the door opened her front was bathed in heat, and her mind registered the sweet scent of wood burning in a fireplace, a fragrance she always found charming. Mr. Pennyworth guided her inside and just as she was certain she’d have an anxiety attack, the door closed with an ominous thud.
It must be a large door.

“Good evening, Ms. Farrow.”

Her shoulders unknotted as his voice washed over her. Her belly swooped with excitement as his slow steps approached, echoing, pronouncing the room’s enormity.
That
was her Mr. Stone.

Her voice shook. “Good evening, Mr. Stone.”

Her breath sucked in as her body jerked at the quick brush of his fingers along her jaw. “You look beautiful this evening.”

Unable to form a reply, she fought back every fear hitting her with the gravity of a falling planet. What if Mr. Stone was some Bram Stoker type with Hannibal Lector tendencies? She couldn’t do this! How had she ever believed she was brave enough to go through with this?

He chuckled. Her hand was lifted as a foreign object was placed in her palm. He gently closed her fingers around it. “A telephone, Ms. Farrow, should you need to call the police. Take a deep breath, Scarlet. I mean you no harm. Would you like to go home? You’re my guest, free to leave whenever you choose.”

Okay, she needed to chill the hell out. She was making an ass out of herself. Still, she gripped the phone like the lifeline it was. “Sorry. I’m nervous.”