“Beatrice, darling.” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “Thank god you’re safe.”
Beatrice stepped in front of Arthur, her body tense. “Stay back, Marcus.”
“It’s over, Bea. The police are on their way. We’ve managed to keep the 'kidnapping' angle out of the major papers for now, but this... this boy needs to answer for what he’s done.”
“He hasn't done anything!” she shouted. “I went with him. I chose this.”
Marcus smiled, a cold, thin line. “Of course you think that. It’s a classic case of manipulation. He’s a 'content creator', Bea. He’s been filming you since the moment you met. He’s using you to build his brand.”
He turned his gaze to Arthur. “How many followers did you gain this week, Arthur? Five thousand? Ten? It’s a good haul. But it ends here.”
Arthur felt the weight of the Leica in his hand. It was empty now, the card destroyed, but Marcus didn't know that.
“I have nothing.” Arthur said, his voice steady. “I deleted it all.”
Marcus laughed. “A likely story. Give me the camera, and we’ll see.”
“No.” Beatrice said. “He’s telling the truth. He destroyed it for me.”
Marcus paused. He looked at Beatrice, then at the shattered SD card on the ground. His expression shifted from concern to something much darker.
“You destroyed it?” he hissed. “Do you have any idea what that footage was worth? The documentary rights alone...”
He caught himself, but the mask had slipped.
Beatrice saw it. She stepped back, her eyes wide. “You didn't come here to save me. You came here to save the footage. You wanted to sell our 'escape' as a special, didn't you?”
Marcus straightened his tie. “I was protecting your interests, Beatrice. You’re a brand. This 'romance' would have been the biggest thing in Hollywood. We could have controlled the narrative. Now... now you’re just a girl who ran away with a loser and has nothing to show for it but a tarnished reputation.”
He signalled to the two men in the SUV.
“Bring her.” he said. “And deal with the boy.”
The men moved forward. Arthur stepped in front of Beatrice, raising the Leica like a weapon.
“Don't touch her.” he growled.
“Arthur, don't.” Beatrice whispered.
But then, the sound of sirens echoed through the canyon. Not the private security sirens, but the real ones. A fleet of Utah State Patrol cars rounded the corner, lights flashing.
Marcus’s face went pale. “What? I told them to wait.”
A tall officer stepped out of the lead car. “Marcus? We got a tip about a kidnapping in progress. And we also got a tip about a stolen park ranger vehicle.”
He looked at Arthur, then at Beatrice.
“Everyone, hands where I can see them.”
Arthur felt a strange sense of relief. The game was over. They were caught. But as the officers moved in, he saw Beatrice look at him.
She wasn't afraid. She looked at him with a profound, quiet pride.
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