Brink sneaks around the corner, giving me a tense nod to let me know the men are in position. The hotel is surrounded. There’s no way out but through us. A few connections from jail have pitched to offer their assistance, but they’re hanging back, acting on my command. The revenge is mine. It’s our unwritten rule.
“I want Zane alive,” I say into the mike that connects me to the men. I need answers. When I have them, I’m going to kill Dalton.
The sun burns down on my head. My shadow is a tight circle around my body. The curtains of room sixteen are closed. They’re a faded yellow with a sunflower motive. Those curtains will haunt me in my sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I’ll see Lina in a field of faded sunflowers. I’ll remember what it felt like to feel fear, the real kind that can shatter your soul. I’ll recall the pressure of my index finger on the trigger, and the foreign urge to pray. I’ll see Lina’s face as she stared up at the portrait of Mary and feel the ache in my soul for that missing smile. I’ll see the possibility of a smile in every moment I’m yet to steal from her future.
Brink waits. Sweat beads on his forehead. His ponytail ruffles in the breeze. I give the signal. Slowly, we creep toward the door. The sounds of a news channel filters through the walls. Taking aim, I motion for Brink to kick down the door. It crashes into the room, sending dust up from the carpet. I take stock of the situation in a millisecond.
Lina is slumped in a chair, tied up. Shrieking like a hellcat, Anne jumps from the bed. Zane jerks with a start. Disbelief registers on his face. He recovers even as I charge, reaching for a gun on the nightstand. Before he can get it, I fire a warning shot into the wall. Anne’s eyes are wild and feverish as she grabs the object closest to her, a stone ashtray.
For an instant, my focus is distracted. Zane uses the moment to pull a knife and leap over the bed, straight toward me. I don’t think twice. I aim for his arm and pull the trigger. The knife drops to the floor. He loses his footing. Blood pumps from his bicep. Anne screams, hurling the ashtray at an unconscious Lina. It’s a good aim, going for Lina’s head. Projecting myself sideways, I intercept the heavy object, taking a knock under my breastbone. I hit the floor hard, shoulder first. Something cracks inside my body. I feel the fissure and hear the sound but feel no pain.
Zane has recovered the knife in his good hand and comes at me with a snarl. Rolling onto my back, I lock my elbows, point the barrel at his kneecap, and pull the trigger. He grunts as he goes down.
“Hart,” Brink shouts. “Three o’clock.”
I’m just in time to see Anne retrieve the gun on the nightstand.
I shift my aim. “Drop it, Anne.”
She turns the gun on Lina as if she hasn’t heard the deadly threat in my tone. Hatred fills her eyes. Her finger curls around the trigger. I’m vaguely aware of Zane using the bed to push himself up. Between Zane, Anne, and me, there’s no choice. The choice is always Lina. Before I can eliminate the danger threatening my wife, a shot goes off. Brink. His first priority is protecting Lina. Anne collapses. At the same time, Zane lifts the knife and dives. I barely have time to fire. His body jerks from the impact. His knees hit the carpet before he falls facedown.
Brink moves to the bathroom and signals it’s clear. One of the guards is already cutting Lina loose. I waste no time in getting to her, leaving Brink to check Anne and Zane’s vitals.
With his finger on a jugular vein in Zane’s neck, Brink gives me a negative sign. Anne took a headshot.
“We’ll clean this up,” Brink offers.
I lift Lina’s limp body into my arms. “Leave it. It’ll look like a gang shootout.”
My ribs protest as I walk outside into the glaring sun, but it’s the happiest pain I’ve felt. One of the men opens the car door for me. I lower my precious bundle into the back before taking the seat next to her. After fitting her seatbelt, I arrange her body to rest in the crook of my arm.
“Hospital?” the guard who’s driving asks, shooting a wary look at Lina’s unconscious form.
She’ll have to be checked by a doctor, but it’ll have to be a house call. I can’t afford the routine questions that’ll come with a hospital visit.
“Home,” I say, pulling her tighter against me.
Lina
I wake up to a warm and comfortable dream. I’m in a boat, rocking to a soothing rhythm. Outside, a storm is brewing, but inside I’m safe. I’m lying on a soft bed, wrapped up in strong arms. A delicious weight presses me deeper into the mattress. We’re rocking together, moving with the ebb and flow of the tide. Like lazy waves, we lap at the shore.
Reveling in the feeling, I snuggle deeper. From afar, the cold tendrils of consciousness reach for me, trying to pull me from my dream, but I’m not ready to let go. It feels too good here. The rocking continues as new sensations join. Hands, broad and warm, drag over my shoulders, breasts, and hips. My awareness shifts, turning from languid to sensual. Slowly, my body comes alive. The tide builds, but this time, it’s inside of me. I moan.
A deep chuckle caresses my ears. The rough timbre resonates through my breastbone. The sensual rocking escalates, waking a hunger in my core. I arch my back, and am rewarded with hard, hot skin sliding over skin. The hunger becomes unbearable, the rocking insistent. The wave rolls, but the crash remains just beyond my reach. I ride it like the boat, rocking, ebbing, but forever falling behind. Panting, I chase the crescent that cruelly escapes me. I moan again, frustrated, and this time we go faster until, at last, the wave lifts and curls.
I reach out, needing something to hold on to. My fingers tangle in damp hair. A hint of winter and citrus drifts over my senses. The harsh tendrils of reality finally strip me of my comfortable dream. Opening my eyes, I stare into a pair of dark ones. Damian hovers over me. My dream and reality merge. He’s inside me. He cups my face and rocks his hips with that lazy rhythm that creates beautiful dreams and frightening realities. Sucking in a breath, I tense.
“Shh.” He kisses my lips, never ceasing his movement.
A part of my memory is missing. I have questions and fears, but I’m too far down the road to release to stop him. His hand moves between our bodies, finding my clit. I jerk when he applies pressure, the touch too intense and not enough.
“Come, Lina.”
I convulse around him. Needing him deeper, I wrap my legs around his ass. He groans with approval, driving his hips harder.
“Please, Damian.”
He gathers my slick from where we’re joined and runs it over my clit with the heel of his palm. He rubs in a circular motion, holding my eyes, reading me like the open book I am. I still feel disorientated, like I’m lost at sea, but the pleasure he creates with his hand and cock outshines my fear.
“Come,” he says again.
I dig my nails into his shoulders, feeling adrift and unanchored. “Where am I?” I recognize his bedroom, but I have to be sure this is real.
“Where you should be.” He grips my hair and pulls lightly, bringing my focus back to him. “Come.”
“Damian.”
He pinches my nipple. “Come.”
When he kisses me, I do. The minute I let go, so does he. We come long and violently, breathing hard and shuddering in each other’s arms. He holds me until the very last aftershock has passed before turning us on our sides, keeping our bodies locked together. He winces as he does so.
Alarm tightens my chest. I should feel many things, apprehension being on the top of the list, but I’m not myself. I’m disorientated, and with my mind’s rational ability suppressed, all I feel is concern for the man whose seed is still inside my body, the man who makes me feel so safe, so warm, so good. So awful.
“What’s wrong, Damian?”
“Nothing important. Just a broken rib.”
My emotions are all over the place. Tears well up in my eyes.
The sound he makes mirrors the chuckle from earlier. “Your concern is endearing, but it’s nothing to cry over.”
The languid pleasure from earlier evapora
tes. My fear becomes sharper, but for a different reason. “Are you going to punish me?”
“Relax, angel.” He kisses my lips. “I’m not going to punish you today.”
I blow out a slow breath of relief, forcing myself not to think further than today so my body can once again relax and soak up his warmth. If I don’t, I’ll freak out about what has happened, Zane and Anne’s last conversation returning with unwelcome clarity to my mind.
“Why did you run, Lina?”
Biting my lip, I try to look away, but he grips my chin and forces me to look at him.
“Was it the cane, or because I broke skin?”
“Both.” My voice cracks. “I can’t handle it. I can’t handle you.”
I’m not crazy enough for his darkness and not strong enough for his punishment. I can’t take the depth of what he needs to find his warped pleasure. I may as well admit what my actions have already confirmed.
“What about the whip? Did you want to run after that, too?”
Will my answer have repercussions?
“I want your honesty,” he says as if reading my mind. “I won’t hold it against you.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “I wanted to run then, too.” I still do, but for different reasons.
“Fine.” He brushes a thumb over my lips. “I’ll have to find a different way of punishing you.”
The vice around my heart squeezes harder. I don’t want to be punished at all.
“Relax.” He rubs my back. “Your spine is about to snap.”
Making a conscious effort, I try to relax my muscles.
“Good,” he coos. “Are you going to tell me about it?”
“About what?”
“About what happened after you ran.”
He makes it sound as if I have a choice, but there isn’t one. One way or another, he’ll find a way of making me talk. It doesn’t matter. These aren’t the truths I want to keep hidden.
“What do you want to know?”
“Did they hurt you?”
“Other than hitting me on the head, no.”
“I had a doctor check you out, but I want to be sure.”
Automatically, my fingers find the egg at the back of my head. “It doesn’t hurt, any longer.”
“The doctor injected you with a painkiller. You may have a mild concussion, so you need to rest.”
“What happened to your rib?”
“I took a knock in the fight.”
My muscles tighten again. “What fight?”
“It’s not important. Rest.”
For now, I concede. I look toward the window where daylight filters in. “What time is it?”
“Go back to sleep.”
“How did I get here? They drugged me. I can’t remember anything after.”
“I fetched you.”
“How did you find me?”
“Easily.”
I trail my hand over his side. The familiar weight of my engagement ring pulls my attention. It shouldn’t be there, but it is, as if Anne never took it. “The ransom—”
“It’s over, Lina. You’re safe. Forget about the rest.”
“It’s so much money,” I whisper, miserable with guilt.
“Which I would’ve gladly paid.”
“Would have?”
“I didn’t have to.”
I’m still angry with him for what he did to me, but I’m also thankful that he found and saved me. As always, my signals where Damian is concerned are crossed. It’s confusing. I don’t know how I should feel, so I focus on filling the missing gaps in my memory.
“Zane? Anne? What about them?”
“Lina,” his voice turns strict, “close your eyes and go back to sleep. The doctor said you should rest.”
A fresh rush of fear clears some of the cobwebs from my mind. “Damian, please tell me. I have a right to know.”
“Let it go.”
“Are they…?”
“Dead, yes,” he says, suddenly cold and angry.
Oh, my God. I can’t bear to ask, but I need to know. “Who killed them?”
“I shot Zane. Brink shot Anne.”
“Was it…?” I swallow. “Was it really necessary?”
His dark eyes pierce mine. “It was them or us.”
“This is my fault.”
“No,” he says sternly. “When Zane realized he was cornered, he went into the fight with the intention of not coming out alive. He knew the risks when he decided to kidnap you. He’s lucky I didn’t have a chance to torture him to death.”
Shivers wrack my body. His arms tighten around me. I bury my face in his neck, inhaling the wintry scent of my dreams and nightmares, finding comfort in my captor, a man who killed his best friend for me. He didn’t want to tell me, but I insisted. Now, I’m an accomplice. I’m as guilty as Damian. We hold each other as we sink deeper into the mud of our dark existence.
Miraculously, Damian manages to keep my kidnapping out of the media. Except for the people involved, no one knows what happened. That includes Jana, who corners me before dinner in the kitchen when I go down to make a cup of tea.
“Lina.” Her gaze sweeps over me. “Are you all right?”
“Of course.” I force a smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You look like you’re coming down with something. There’s a flu virus going around.”
“It’s nothing. I’m just a little tired.”
“Did you sleep enough? You’re so pale.”
“I could do with a few more hours,” I say honestly.
All I seem to want to do is sleep. Damian says it’s the aftereffect of the drugs. It should be worked out of my system in forty-eight hours.
“I put last night’s dinner in the freezer.” She watches me curiously. “Weren’t you hungry? When I got in this afternoon it was still in the oven.”
“Oh.” My cheeks heat as I battle to think up a lie and fail. “We, uh, didn’t get around to dinner.”
“Ah.” She gives a knowing grin. “Still on honeymoon, I see.”
Feeling horrible for letting her believe the untruth, I busy myself with filling the kettle so she won’t see the conflicting emotions that must be written all over my face.
“I don’t want to be nosy,” she continues, “but I couldn’t help but notice Zane’s things are gone.”
My hand starts shaking on the mug I take down from the cupboard. “No, he, um, didn’t Damian tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
I swallow hard. “He left.”
“Ah. If you don’t mind me saying so, it’s probably for the best.”
From nowhere, shock slams into me. The full impact of what happened and what could’ve happened makes my knees weak. I grip the counter, feeling nauseous and unstable. Sweat breaks out over my body.
“Lina!” Jana rushes toward me. She takes my arm and leads me to a chair. “Here. Sit down.”
“Lina?” Damian’s dark voice says from the door.
“Mr. Hart.” Jana gives him a concerned look. “I think Mrs. Hart is coming down with that bug that’s in the air.”
In two steps, Damian is at my side. He presses a hand against my forehead and peers into my eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just had a little dizzy spell. I’ll be fine.”
Ignoring my protest, Damian scoops me up in his arms. “Back to bed.”
“I’ll make some soup,” Jana offers. “I can bring up a tray.”
“That’ll be kind,” Damian says before carrying me back to his room.
I’m shaking so hard my teeth chatter. He lays me down on the mattress and pulls the duvet up to my chin. Not bothering to undress, he only kicks off his shoes before getting under the covers with me. I crawl into his arms, hiding in the warmth and false safety they offer.
Rubbing his hands over my arms, he soothes me with tender words. “It’s all right, angel. You’re having a delayed reaction from the shock.”
Two more people are dead because of me. Because I ran.
Because I’m a prisoner.
“I don’t want to be here.” I no longer want a part of this life. Everything I touch is tainted.
“You went through a traumatic experience. It’ll get better.”
I’m not sure it will, but I don’t have the energy to debate my present or future feelings. It wasn’t like this when I shot Jack. Then again, Harold immediately dragged me to Willowbrook. Before reality could set in, I was already sedated, my senses dulled, and my body numbed.
“Sleep,” Damian whispers, planting a kiss on my forehead.
“Will you stay?”
He hesitates. “I have something to take care of, but I won’t be long.”
“What?”
“Nothing to concern yourself over.”
I gasp, clutching at his shirt. “You’re going after Harold.”
“He put your life in danger, Lina.”
“Please, Damian.” He has no idea how dangerous Harold can be. “Stay with me. Don’t go. Don’t leave me. I beg you.”
His hesitation stretches a little longer this time. Finally, he says, “I’ll never leave you again when you need me.”
“Thank you,” I whisper on a sigh, fisting his shirt harder, as if that will prevent him from slipping away.
I drift off with the comforting knowledge that he’ll stay, because he always keeps his word.
The following morning, Anne and Zane’s murders are all over the news. According to the police report, gang violence is suspected. No suspects have been arrested. My stomach tightens so much at the last part, I almost empty my stomach in the toilet.
True to his promise, Damian hasn’t left my side. We woke together with him still fully dressed. After he made love to me in the shower, he took me outside to have breakfast on the terrace, claiming some sunlight will be good for me.
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