* * * * *
CHAPTER 21
It wasn’t the sound of the vase crashing against the floor that had Dylan slamming his fist against the wall. It was the voice coming from behind him. And the fact that he’d couldn’t find his keys.
“She is your girlfriend, isn’t she?”
“I don’t have time for your questions, Susan. I gotta find my keys.”
“You mean these?”
He spun around to see his keys dangling from her fingers. “How the hell did you get those,” he asked, reaching for them.
Susan jerked her hand from his and hid it behind her back. “You sent them flying across the floor when you started ransacking that table.”
“Give them to me. I need to go after her,” he growled, taking a step toward the reporter.
Susan took a step back. “Not until you answer my question.”
His fingers missed her bare shoulder. Stupid strapless top. If she’d had on something with sleeves, she couldn’t have avoided his grasp. Or made it look like she was standing upstairs with nothing on.
No wonder Heaven thought…
His heart pinched.
“I’ve never hit a woman in my life, but don’t push your luck with me. Give me my damn keys.”
“What the hell is going on down here?” Dylan’s eyes shot up the stairs, landing on his father’s stern face. “Who’s doing all this yelling and door slamming?”
“I don’t have time for this bullshit,” Dylan shouted. He reached for his keys once more, but Susan took another step back.
“Dylan, I don’t know what the hell you’re doing, but we’ve got a case to settle. I need you both back in the study. The lawyers are going to eat me alive if you both don’t get your asses up here.”
“Oh, there is no case,” Susan seethed. Her eyes moved from Dylan’s to Nathaniel’s. “You tried to tell me those pictures I had published were libelous. Guess they can’t be when your son is really with that girl.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Susan?” Nathaniel asked as he trotted down the steps.
“The girl from the picture. She was just here. You missed your son’s little lover’s spat with his girlfriend.”
Nathaniel’s icy glare rained down on Dylan. “Heaven was here?”
“So you do know about her?” Susan scoffed. “This is perfect. I can’t wait to run this story in the morning edition.”
“Listen,” Nathaniel shouted. He advanced on Susan so fast she hit her head against the wall in an attempt to avoid him. “You’re not here because of a libelous photograph. You stole another man’s property. Those weren’t your photos to publish.”
Susan stepped away from him. Her heels crunched the broken pieces of vase sprawled across the floor. “You don’t have proof that I stole anything.”
“We have Sid Baker’s testimony. And I’m sure we can subpoena your editor-in-chief.”
The menacing laugh spewing from Susan’s lips sent a shiver through Dylan’s chest. “My editor-in-chief makes a career out of keeping the truth a secret. Subpoena him if you want. He’ll lie. Trust me. And Sid Baker…well, I wouldn’t count on him to back up that testimony. I’ll make sure of that.”
“Why can’t you get past the fact that things didn’t work out between us, Susan?” Nate asked as he followed her across the room. “Why do you have to go after my son?”
“Please,” Susan snorted as she turned to look at Nate. “I was never after you. My god, you’re old enough to be my father. I wanted him!”
Dylan turned to face Susan. Her finger pointed straight at him. Was she serious? Her eyes narrowed in on him.
“Seeing what unfolded here tonight makes all the times you rejected me worth it. You’ll never find happiness, Dylan. You’ll be old and miserable, just like your father.”
She took another step toward the door, pausing at the table that Dylan had just cleared off with his fists. Grabbing the purse and umbrella near the base of the table, she turned to walk toward the door and then spun around. “Here,” she said, tossing Dylan’s keys through the air. “You might need these. Good luck patching things up with your girlfriend.”
* * *
Heaven tried to keep her composure when she made it back to the condo. It wasn’t the easiest thing to do when the only thing she could concentrate on was the burning in her chest. It wouldn’t subside. The minute she walked through the door, she met Hope and Scott, who were on their way out.
“Hey, Sis, what are you doing back so soon? I thought you were—what’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing, I just want to go to my room.” Heaven answered, sweeping past her sister and Scott.
“You’ve been crying,” Hope said as she grabbed Heaven’s arm. “I want to know what’s going on.”
“Hope, please don’t do this. Not now. I have no energy to discuss this with you tonight. You two go out and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
Hope shook her head, her eyes protesting Heaven’s request. Why couldn’t Hope leave things alone? “If you’re not going to talk, I’m not going out. I refuse to leave you in this condition.”
Heaven was about to respond when her cell phone started buzzing. She glanced down to see Dylan's number flash across the display.
“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Hope asked, but Heaven took another step past her. Not that she got far before Hope cut her off. “Who is it?”
“It’s Dylan.” Heaven mumbled.
“Okay, you really need to start talking. You’re drenched, you have red eyes, a puffy face, and now you won’t answer Dylan’s calls. Tell me what happened.”
Heaven still didn’t respond to her sister’s demands. She kept her eyes on the ground, fighting to keep her stomach from flopping like a fish.
“That’s it,” Hope began as she turned to Scott. “I’m sorry to cancel last minute, but my sister needs me.”
“No, I don’t!” Heaven snapped at her. She glanced over at Scott to protest.
Scott’s eyes were sympathetic to her plight. “It is okay, Heaven. Hope and I can go out some other night.”
“I will be fine,” Heaven shouted. She raked her hands through her hair then let her arms fell hard against her sides “I am not in the mood to talk to anyone. If you two don’t go because of me, then I will get back in Chelsea’s car and go somewhere else for the night.”
“Don’t do that,” Hope pleaded. “Look, if you don’t feel like talking, I will leave. You don’t need to be behind the wheel of a car right now. Go take a hot bath and get some sleep. I will check in on you when we get back.”
The buzzing of her phone brought Heaven’s eyes back to it and then to her sister. She pressed a button to silence the phone and then tossed it into her purse. “Enjoy your evening. I mean that. Don’t be worrying over me.” Heaven turned toward the steps, sprinting to the top. She wanted to get out of her sister’s sight before Hope changed her mind and decided to stay. Not that it would make a difference. She wouldn’t talk to anyone about what she’d just witnessed.
And Dylan…she hoped she’d never lay eyes on him, again. No matter how hard it was to breathe without him.
* * *
“Please pick up the phone,” Dylan said as he paced back and forth in the foyer. He’d lost count of how many times he had called Heaven since she’d left in tears.
She wasn’t going to answer. Not that he could blame her. Susan’s exposed shoulder had looked incriminating. But how could she believe he’d cheat on her?
Maybe because he’d just tried to lie about dreaming about her.
Christ…
She had a right to know about the dreams…and about their past. But how would she handle the truth once she heard it? Would she understand about his dreams and their connection or would she think he was some nutcase that was so desperate to keep her, he would make-up anything?
The vibration of their bond recoiled to the point that he could barely stand. It was as if he were a puppet and the bond between him and Heaven we
re severed strings. Every ounce of him ached. His gut twisted into knots.
He had to go after her. He needed to explain…
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?
“I’m going to find Heaven,” Dylan mumbled, meeting eyes identical to his.
“The hell you are. You have four lawyers sitting in your library, ready to sign papers with a reporter who just walked out the door.”
“You’re the one that came up with this crazy idea to blackmail Susan Jenkins. Had I known this was over your…ego, I would have never agreed to it. You clean up the mess.”
“Son,” Nathaniel said in a softer voice. He grabbed Dylan’s shoulder, preventing him from stepping away. “This is about more than my ego. This is about protecting you from my mistakes.” Nathaniel dropped his hand to his side. “Take it from someone who’s been through countless relationships, a failed marriage, and a divorce. This girl is not worth the trouble.”
“Excuse me?” Dylan snapped as he glared at his father. “First off, you don’t know Heaven. Second, you’re saying Mom wasn’t worth the trouble, which means I wasn’t, either.”
“You were the best thing to come out of my marriage. All I’m trying to say is that you have so much going for you, right now. Ever since you met that girl, you’ve been distracted. You need to focus on your career and stop chasing after women.”
Dylan leaned in just a few inches from his father’s nose. “I will follow her to the ends of the Earth if I have to. If you don’t like it, then screw you. I have to go.”
As he reached the door, he shot one more glance at his father. “My house better be clear by the time I get back.”
* * *
Heaven pulled the plug on the tub and watched the water drain as she dried off and put on a cotton dress. She was enjoying the softness of the material when something dawned on her. She had worn the same dress at Jerry’s house. The same dress that Dylan had removed from her body when they came close to…
My God! Everything reminded her of him. The pain in her heart spread with every beat. She tried to inhale, but her lungs refused to accommodate the amount of air she wanted. Her chest convulsed in a cough.
The doorknob felt cool to her palm as she tugged the door open and stepped outside. The lavender scented steam seeped into the hallway. Heaven could barely breathe it in.
She made her way down the steps, replaying the events of her visit with Dylan. She was such an idiot to think someone as gorgeous as him could be committed to one woman. Dylan was just like Layne—a womanizer. She was just stupid enough to get tangled in his web of lies.
Guess she knew who had been blowing up his phone today, with all the text messages. Why had he lied and said it was Sid?
Plush carpet hugged her feet as she descended the last step. She could finally take a deep breath, again, though the air still burned her lungs. Or maybe it was her heart that felt like the last log in a fireplace.
A loud knock on the door had her crying out. Who in the world was at the…
Crap!
Surely Dylan wouldn’t have followed her here? If he had, he’d just wasted his time. She had nothing to say to him.
Another round of knocking had her moving toward the door. She’d just crack it open and tell him to go away. If he didn’t listen, she’d slam the door in his face. Plain and simple.
Not really simple, but she’d do it, no matter how much she wanted to feel his arms around her waist or swallow the lies he was ready to feed her with his bullshit spoon.
When the door hinge protested its disturbance, the face looking back at her was not the one she had expected. The lump in her throat wouldn’t go down no matter how hard she gulped.
“My, my, my, don’t you look ravishing.”
“What the hell are you doing here, Zeke?” Heaven asked. No matter how low she forced her voice, the sound was anything but threatening. She barely sounded annoyed.
“You know what I want, you little tease…I want you.”
Oh, God…
Heaven tried to shut the door as fast as she had opened it, but Zeke overpowered her. He sauntered inside, slamming the door behind him. His eyes raked over her body, his lips spreading in a smile that only the Devil would enjoy.
“You better get out of here before my sisters come down and beat the crap out of you,” she seethed, taking a step backwards.
“Nice try, sweetheart, but I know you’re all alone. I’ve been watching you for days, waiting for this moment.”
“You’ve been what?” Heaven said, her voice growing quieter with each word.
“You sure have a lot of traffic coming in and out of this house. I didn’t think I would ever get this opportunity. I guess patience really does pay off.”
His voice had her pulse pounding against her neck. When he grabbed her in his arms, Heaven struggled to get loose. “Get away from me,” she shouted.
“Don’t fight me on this,” he demanded, wrapping his arms around her until her body was pressed to his. He leaned in to kiss her, but Heaven gave him a surprise of her own. “Damn it!” he screamed out as she bit him. Zeke tightened his grip on her arm. A metallic scent rushed through her nose as he wiped his lip.
Crimson stained his palm.
That same palm stung her cheek with such force, she spun in a circle. She touched the throbbing part of her skin, gazing down at her hand to check for blood. Stunned by his violent strike, she lost focus on her escape. His hands were groping her, again, pulling at her body while she fought to keep her distance.
Zeke managed to hook a finger under her strap. His anticipated victory gleamed in his eyes.
Heaven stepped back, only to be jerked forward by her dress strap. The strap loosened from her shoulder as the cotton ripped.
This couldn’t be happening. Zeke’s intentions were more obvious than a movie marquee. But she’d be damned if someone took her by force. Not her first time, not any time.
Mustering what strength she had left, she stomped on his foot as hard as she could. A brief moment of relief filled her body when he loosened his grip. The small window of opportunity wouldn’t last long, and she knew she had to use her time well. She kneed Zeke in the groin and then punched him as hard as she could before running towards the kitchen.
“You little bitch,” he shouted, his voice reverberating against the walls like the thunder outside. He rounded the corner of the kitchen, struggling to stand, but still advancing on her. “You’re going to pay for that little stunt. I was going to take it easy on you, but now…I’m going to make you suffer through every single minute.”
Heaven kept backing away until she ran into a hard surface. When she looked back to see the counter, she noticed a knife lying beside the sink. Without giving it a second thought, she grabbed the knife and pointed it towards Zeke.
“If you touch me, again, I will use this on you!” she warned.
Zeke’s laughter filled the room. Heaven’s chest tightened. “You’re not going to use that on me. You don’t have the guts and you know why? You’re a woman. You’re weak.”
“Try me and find out how wrong you are.”
“Oh, I plan to try you,” he whispered, his eyes trailing over her body, lingering at her breasts, then her thighs. “That’s been my plan all along, and I will have you, tonight.”
* * *
Dylan had pulled off the road and into the parking area of Chelsea’s condo when he noticed Scott pulling in behind him. He parked his SUV next to Chelsea’s car and stepped out. Rain beat against his head as he walked toward the condo, meeting Scott and Hope on the way.
“Hey, Dylan, what are you doing here?” Scott asked.
Dylan fought the urge to punch him. He knew had no right to be angry with his friend. It’s not like Scott meant for Heaven to find out about the dreams.
“I came to talk to Heaven,” Dylan answered, swiping the trail of water from his eyes. A rush of adrenalin burned his veins. His connection to Heaven vibrated like the sky above them.
He tried to walk past them, but Hope cut him off. “What did you do to my sister? She was upset when she came back from your house. Are you here to cause her more pain?”
Dylan’s gritted his teeth. He pushed back the retort begging to spill from his lips. He didn’t have time to argue with her. Not when something was wrong with Heaven. The urgent vibes cascading through their connection had him ready to scream. He needed to get to Heaven. Now.
“I'm here to make things right. What happened was a big misunderstanding. I take the blame,” He met Hope’s stern gaze with one of his own. “How did you know about it if you and Scott were gone?”
“We left twenty minutes ago.” Hope answered. “I waited around to see if she wanted to talk, but when I heard water running upstairs, we left. We came back because I forgot my purse and keys.”
Dylan glanced at Scott, still peeved to know that he had mentioned his dreams to Hope. But something in Scott’s eyes sent up a red flag. “What’s wrong?”
“Is that Zeke’s car?” Scott asked. Dylan followed his gaze to the Mercedes Benz, just down a few spaces down from Scott’s Mustang.
Dylan’s stomach dropped like a fifty-pound weight. “Shit!” The muscles in his legs stretched and burned as he made a mad dash to the door.
He grabbed the doorknob, giving it a quick twist, but panic shot to his core.
“Fuck,” he shouted. “It’s locked.”
“What?” Hope shrieked as she shook the knob herself. “I don’t have my keys, Dylan.”
It didn’t matter. He directed all the adrenalin pumping through his body into the door as he slammed into it three times. The doorframe complained with a crack. One final kick had the door smacking against the interior wall.
Heaven’s pleas filled the house. Dylan ran toward the sound of her voice.
Her fear was screaming to his soul.
If Zeke had touched her, he’d be a dead man.
What the Heart Wants Page 26
