Redhead On The Run (RedHeads Book 1)

by Rebecca Royce

  “I’m thinking about art school,” I announced to him on the edge of our block.

  He nodded, taking a long sip of his water bottle. “Do you need school for that? Did your mother go? Or could you…”

  His voice trailed off, and I followed his gaze to see where he looked. A black car parked in front of the house, and my father stepped out of it, followed fast by Michael Li. I gasped. “My dad.”

  “Yes, I see that.” Zeke’s eyes hardened. Gone was my easy-going lover, and in his place, a man ready to go to battle against an enemy. I hung back behind him, instinct making me behave that way more than anything else.

  My father didn’t move, just stood there waiting for us, in his expensive suit and shiny shoes. Zeke stalked toward him like he wasn’t the least bit intimidated, and maybe he wasn’t. But I was.

  What was it about my father that could take all my confidence and shatter it just by being in the same air space as me?

  My father pointed at Zeke. “You have ruined everything.”

  “I’ve ruined nothing. We were separating for years. You and I both knew it. You even said it yourself on occasion. We had run our course.”

  My father shook his head. “The Allards will never come through now. Do you know what you’ve done?”

  “Used my out clause to prevent you from money laundering?” I came up on his side just as Zeke raised an eyebrow. “Go drown in that ocean by yourself. It’s not my fault you destroyed your abilities and are only a mediocre trader now, a shell of who you used to be.”

  My father rounded on me. “You. You’re the one who told him. It has to be you. That wasn’t information that was yours to share. It was private and none of your goddamned business. It was a family matter.”

  He was all over the place. It wasn’t a family matter if he dragged the company and Zeke through it with him. It was all of us. Everyone associated with the mess he was going to create. “You were done with me. I didn’t know I was still family.”

  He raised his hand like he was going to strike me. Zeke and Michael both reacted, Zeke being closer and able to stay my father’s hand. Still, my heart raced, and I reared back like I was about to be hit.

  “You’re going to want to keep your hands to yourself. Lay a hand on her, and you’ll regret it before you lower your fist to your side.”

  My father pulled away from him. “You were always such a waste, Layla. Not smart like your sisters or talented like your brother. And now you’ve ruined everything. That is what you are. A ruiner.” He rounded on Zeke. “But that’s fine. You think you won? You’re nothing without me. I’m the only reason you mattered at all. You had nothing to sell, no deal to make until you had me. You’d still be trying to make it as a nothing, supporting ten-dollar bond traders on the streets, not able to pay your rent if you hadn’t met me.”

  I saw the flinch Zeke gave, but it was so fast, only I would notice it. “That might be true. But you’d be a nothing grunt on the floor of a two-bit stock trader. You’re fifth in five years because no one could stand you, and you can’t make a deal to save your life. You’d be nothing but a man who couldn’t ever make it. So much potential but such a terrible person to talk to, they’d say. Who wants to work with him? I made you. The only reason anyone ever gave you any money is because they liked me.”

  “Gentlemen,” Michael called out. “We’re out on the street. It isn’t safe and, Andrew, we have to get to Justin. Now.”

  “Why?” I asked Michael. “What did you find?”

  “He’s in trouble, Layla,” Michael said simply.

  “Oh yes, another worthless child.” My father laughed. “I have to go get him now. All my worthless offspring. I should never have had you. Never.” He got in Zeke’s face. “So you keep her. You’re fucking her? Fine. Make her another one of your sluts. I don’t care. But know this, Layla. When he’s done with you, there’ll be no place at home for you. None. And he will be done with you because he’s dead inside. Always has been. Even his own mother couldn’t love him.”

  I’d had enough. I slapped my father. Hard. The same way I had Zeke all those weeks ago. But this time I wasn’t terrified and out of my mind. No, I knew what I was doing, and never had there been a person who deserved to be hit as much as my father did right in that moment. “Don’t talk about him that way.”

  “Oh how ridiculous. You’re in love with him. That makes this even sadder. Another one for the book, Zeke. How many of them fell for you now? Do you even know?” My father stormed toward the car and got in.

  Michael visibly steeled his shoulders. “After I find Justin, I’m done,” he told Zeke. “I can’t do this with him anymore.”

  Zeke nodded once before he stormed to the house, leaving me there on the street.

  I wiped at my cheeks. When had I started to cry?

  I waited as long as I could to see him. I didn’t shower. How could I when my heart was racing from needing to talk to him? The things my father said, I didn’t believe him. I’d seen Zeke’s soul. I needed to hold him and tell him that my dad was a piece of trash, and he should have been done with him years ago.

  Ten minutes had to be enough space for him. He was always glad to see me when I came in, so I did just that. Besides, the door was open. He’d have closed it if he wanted me to go away. I was good at understanding at least that much of a signal.

  I walked through.

  He sat in a chair I’d never seen him in before, staring out the window. “Zeke?”

  Turning toward me, I couldn’t read his expression. It was blank. “What?”

  “Are you okay?” I walked toward him.

  He waved his hand in the air. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be? What your father thinks is nothing to me. People can’t hurt me, Layla, because I really don’t care about them.”

  I swallowed. “That’s not true.”

  “It is, though.” He shook his head. “What did you want?”

  He’d stripped out of his shirt and was bare from the waist up. Beautiful. As always. I swallowed. “I thought it might be a good time for us to talk.”

  “Sure. What do you want?”

  “That’s always the question, isn’t it? What do I want? You promised to help me, and I think I can answer that question.”

  He rose, crossing to the other window. “Oh, yes. Art school.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I mean, yes, I want that, but that’s not the only thing I want. I know what that is and…I think you might want it, too.”

  He didn’t look at me. “Get to it, Layla. Spit it out.”

  “I want you. I want us to be together. I want to make it official. It pretty much is now, isn’t it? We’re together. Let’s say that. I love you. And I think you’re in love with me, too. Let’s say fuck the world, and whatever we do now, we do together.”

  He didn’t look at me, didn’t turn. I waited. And waited, dread starting to settle on my shoulders. What was happening here? Why wasn’t he saying anything? My heart fell into my stomach, the knowledge that something very bad was about to happen settled on my shoulders. Finally, he turned around.

  “Really?” He sighed. “We talked about this, Layla. Do you have to be this girl? I thought you’d come so much further than this, and it’s just…such a disappointment. I told you. I don’t do love. I don’t do relationships. I’m not that guy. I just don’t care about people like that, and if you convinced yourself that I do, that’s not my fault. You knew the rules when we started this.”

  My body went numb. I could actually feel nothing. “You and I both know that’s not true. Why are you doing this? I’ve seen how you feel. I know I did.”

  “Fanciful nothingness, Layla. You really are young. When a person tells you he can’t fall in love, believe him. We know ourselves. If I wanted to be married, I’d have done it years ago.”

  I backed up two steps. “You’re lying.”

  “I’m telling the truth. If you don’t like what I’m saying, that’s on you.”

  I couldn’t take any
more. He had explained things, but I’d…I’d thought they changed. A million different ways. All the time we’d spent together. He’d been so gentle, so kind with me. Loving. That couldn’t be nothing.

  I ran from the room. I’d probably hate myself for it later, but that was what I did. I had to get away from how he looked at me like I was nothing. I closed his door behind me. I didn’t even know why I did that. I just…had to.

  I walked like a zombie to my room, closing that door, too. Methodically, I started to pack. I would only take the things I’d brought with me. Everything else would stay. He’d bought it. I didn’t want it. No. Nothing I’d done here would come with me.

  Was my father right? Was I just one of a lot of women who fell in love with him? Was that why Isobel had stopped going to the café? We never saw her anymore. I shook my head. No, he was a four-day guy. We’d been together…five weeks. But maybe that was just because I was living in his house and he’d had no choice. Better to fuck me than not.

  Tears started to stream, but it was like I couldn’t feel them. Toothbrush, check. Hairbrush, check. I had all my things. I closed the suitcase. Zipped. I had everything I’d come with. Passport was where I always stored it in the front pocket. I could go, now.

  I could leave France. Zeke.

  That was what I had to do.

  Because I was nothing to him. I’d totally humiliated myself.

  But I’d seen his love for me. I knew I had.

  No, he was right. I’d made it up. I even knew why. I clearly needed love, clearly was desperate for it. Clearly had daddy issues.

  I rolled the suitcase. My father was headed to get Justin somewhere, and he’d stopped here. Now was the time to go back to NYC and see my sisters. They’d help me. I wouldn’t stay there. Too close to my father, but I’d borrow money—I was already in debt up to my ears with my father—and move on. Maybe I’d move to Hawaii. I could paint on the beach. No, that wouldn’t work. I was a redhead. We burned.

  Maybe I’d go to Alaska.

  Somewhere.

  I rolled the suitcase down the stairs as a crash in Zeke’s room caught my attention. It sounded like something had hit the wall. Not my problem. He didn’t love me.

  I made it to the door when I was stopped by security. “Ma’am?” My kind, British guard spoke to me. “Are you okay?”

  How much had he heard? It didn’t matter. Humiliation came in large doses for me. “I need to go to the airport. I have to get to New York City.”

  He nodded. “Do you have a ticket?”

  Oh right, I’d need one of those. There I was again. Stupid Layla.

  He took out his phone. “I’ll get you one.”

  That sounded good. I couldn’t perform basic things right now. “Can we do it outside?”

  I needed out of this ugly downstairs. I never wanted to see it again. I had to step away from here. Now.

  He gestured forward, and I went through the door. It was raining slightly. Zeke’s security guard stepped out. “Miss? Are you okay?”

  Why were they all asking? Oh, I was gasping for breath and crying, still in my running clothes. Plus, they’d all have seen that scene on the street. I walked to the street. “Thank you for everything, I’m leaving for America.”

  His face fell. “No, I hope not.”

  “Yes, it seems it’s time.” I rocked back on my feet, the ants feeling coming back. Who was looking at me now? I glanced around. No one.

  A car screeched to a stop in front of Zeke’s house, and we all turned to look at it at the same time. Men with machine guns ran from the car shouting in a language I didn’t know. My reflexes were slow as I tried to throw myself to the ground, but one of the armed men grabbed me by the hair, yanking hard against me as he yelled. They shouted and shot. The guard went down first, and I stumbled to keep upright. My security got a shot off before he also went down. Something slammed behind me, but I couldn’t see it as I was shoved into the car, a bag put over my head.

  I cried out, but it was no use. The car was moving.

  They talked to me and talked to me, but never in English. I didn’t know if they didn’t know, or they just liked torturing me with the fact that I hadn’t a clue what was going on. Maybe ignorance was better in this case.

  I sat on a couch. When I needed to pee, they let me. When I needed to eat, they fed me. And laughed at me.

  I didn’t think these were fans of mine who were just nuts. No, this had to do with the Allards. And my father. And all the things Zeke had been worried about. Zeke. I couldn’t let myself think about him. It was too hard.

  These guys were going to want money for me, and my father was done. Did that mean I was outright screwed? Day turned to night then day again. Then night. This time, they shaved my head.

  It was bizarre. One of them held me down, the other did the deed. It could have been worse. It was just hair, but still, it felt like they’d taken a lot more than that from me. Something else, something I couldn’t have named if I’d been forced to.

  I dozed on the uncomfortable couch, jolting with every noise, when one I didn’t recognize took my attention. What was that sound? I didn’t know.

  Then there was chaos. Gunfire. I hit the ground, covering my head. Not that it would stop a bullet. I didn’t know what to do. Who was here? What was happening?

  Strong hands pulled me up, and I recognized Michael Li immediately. “M-Michael,” I managed to get out.

  “That’s right, kid. I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re safe now.” He hugged me, which was so not a Michael thing to do, but I was so grateful for it, I hugged him back.

  “I…” Talking was hard. “They took me.”

  He nodded, slowly. “I know. We came and got you. I’m sorry, Layla. So sorry.” He picked me up like he would carry me. Where were we going? I didn’t know. It was like all language was confusing now. Even the one I knew.

  “I want to go home.” I didn’t have one, but I wanted to go anyway.

  “We are.”

  He carried me outside. Men in black stood everywhere, talking to each other, speaking to Michael. It was English. That much I knew.

  And then I saw the lights. Flashes. Cameras. Why were there cameras here? Oh, that was right. There were cameras everywhere. Every phone was a weapon to use against me. I hid my face against Michael. I hated cameras. I never wanted to see one again. Not ever.

  There was a doctor on the plane. “We’re going to take care of you.”

  I thought I saw my father, but he only stared at me for a second before heading to the back, leaving me in the care of the doctor whose name I didn’t know. But Hope was there, and so was Bridget. They held me. I’d stopped crying, but now they were.

  “We’ve got you, Layla.” Hope pressed her cheek against mine. “It’s over.”

  A lot of things were over. “I’m not good for anything, Hope.”

  “That’s nonsense. You’re just upset and rightly so. You are too good for things. That’s the truth.”

  “It’s true.” Bridget stroked my head. “We love you.”

  I believed them. They weren’t perfect, none of us were. But they were my sisters. We were triplets. Three of us in the womb, we were always meant to be together. I didn’t know who I was without them, and trying to be someone else had ended in disaster, literally.

  I shrunk down into the seat as the doctor put an IV in my arm. “This will help.”

  Help with what? I didn’t need any help, that I could tell. “I hate airplanes.”

  “In a minute, you won’t even know you’re going to be flying.” He winked at me.

  Why? I didn’t want to sleep. Why were they doing this? “Hope? Bridget?”

  They looked at each other and then the doctor. “Why does she have to be sedated?”

  “Because your father doesn’t want her to be hysterical on the plane. She’ll be fine, and then we’ll be in New York.”

  Bridget started to yell at him, but I was getting woozy, and it was hard to think. I looked at
Hope through bleary eyes. “Zeke didn’t love me.”

  She furrowed her brow. “Layla?”

  “He didn’t love me, and then they kidnapped me and killed two men.” I took her hand. “And I really hate airplanes.”

  She squeezed my fingers. “They didn’t die. Neither of them. The Russians didn’t kill them. They were both saved. I promise you. And Zeke…”

  I never did hear what she said.

  The very rich can get better from nervous breakdowns and lots of other things in private hospitals all over the place. I’d been kidnapped, but I guessed I was considered the same kind of liability. Either that, or they wanted me away from the press where anyone could see. The Hamptons must be entirely booked up, because I found myself in the lap of luxury for mental health disorders in the middle of the Upper East Side.

  I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. The air conditioner blew at me, and I shivered. Without my hair, my head was always cold. One of the nurses had brought me a cap, and I put it on. I pulled a blanket over myself and turned on the television.

  For the first couple days that I’d been here, the news had shown me myself all the time. Curled against Michael, looking like death warmed over. Poor little rich girl gets kidnapped by Russian mobsters because her father couldn’t make good on a deal with them.

  Things could be worse. Kit would never come home from Bali. They’d found him on the beach with his throat slit. His father had been gunned down outside their apartment, and Laura was missing. No one knew if she was dead or in hiding.

  My father must have just mildly annoyed them, or they’d have taken me out too. Or maybe one of them had liked the look of me. I closed my eyes at that thought. They’d laughed at me a lot. Had they been playing with their food before eating it?

  I might never know.

  I stared at the TV. Today, they were showing restaurant critiques. I closed my eyes. I wasn’t hungry. I might never be again.