“You don’t understand. Stephanie might live, but losing you will break her.” And she would never forgive me for allowing this to happen. How could she?
“Broken things can be fixed. Dead cannot.” Grant marched forward.
“Wait!” I held out my hands, unable to physically block him. I was far too weak.
“For what? For Stephanie’s head to be shipped to my home in a box?”
The heinous image pierced my heart. It enraged me to think of Warner touching her.
“I’ll make sure she knows what you did for her,” I said solemnly.
“You damned well better, Rook.” Grant took one more step toward the water. “And this better fucking work.”
I already knew it would. When one had been alive as long as me, one realized that some moments are fated. Like the first moment I saw Stephanie in the restaurant here on the island. I didn’t know she was Cici’s sister at the time, but my heart knew exactly what Stephanie would become to me. The connection was unlike anything I’d ever felt—more powerful than the love I had for my family, for this place, or even for myself. Gazing into her wide brown eyes felt like being struck by lightning made of pure bliss, and I’d found myself asking where she’d been all my life. I knew she would become my redemption, my destruction, and my reason for living. And now I knew for certain, she was my penance—for every life I’d helped take and every sin I’d committed. After this, I would never have her, and I would live out my days longing for her.
She’s going to hate me with every fiber of her being.
I dipped my head and looked at Grant. “The lagoon is open for swimming. May you find peace wherever it takes you.”
CHAPTER SIX
Stephanie
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” With my good foot, I kicked the heavy wooden door of my shitty prison, unable to take another minute of being locked up. “Let me out!” It had been at least a full day since Warner had made the video for my father, and it was torture knowing that they could come and end me at any moment. “This is bullshit! If you’re going to kill me, then get it the hell over with, you big pussies!”
The door swung open. “Stop your bitching. Let’s go.” Wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt, Mr. Classy and his one good eye appeared in the doorway.
A great outfit for hiding blood. My heart plummeted into my feet. Okay. It’s okay. You knew this was coming. “Make it swift.”
His lips bent into a vicious smirk, giving his narrow face a sickly, psychotic look. “And miss all the fun of torturing you?”
Not that. Anything but that. I had to do something to piss him off so he’d just put a bullet in my head. Fast. Done. Over. Because I could think of a thousand unpleasant things this animal could to do me. Death was absolutely preferable.
“Not sure how much fun you’d have listening to me scream at the top of my lungs about your tiny dick—’cause that’s what I’d be yelling. Want a sample?” I opened my mouth to scream, and he backhanded me across the cheek. I stumbled to the side, cupping my hand over the stinging flesh. Motherfucker. “You hit like a man with a chinchilla cock.”
He laughed, clearly enjoying this game.
“Fuck you! Kill me!” I made fists with my hands.
“Sorry, princess, but Warner gave me permission to do anything I want except kill you.” He reached for the button of his jeans. “Test me again, and you’ll be feeling the real size of my cock shoved right up your a—”
“Okay!” I held up my hands. “I’ll be good.” The last thing I wanted was this vile sicko touching me.
He dropped his hands. “I’m glad we can come to an understanding. Because the truth is, I’d rather not fuck a pathetic, ugly whore like you.”
If that was how he saw me, I wasn’t going to argue.
I nodded obediently.
“Good,” he said. “Now it’s time to get you ready. A very special guest is arriving this afternoon, and Warner wants you looking just right.” He moved his bulky body and gestured for me to leave the cell.
“What guest?”
Mr. Classy’s stone-cold expression returned, giving nothing away.
I sighed and went up the stairs into the dirty warehouse. Through the open bay doors, I saw the black SUV waiting, this time with the back, side door open.
It suddenly dawned on me. Rook is coming. My stomach rolled. I was going to see the man I hated with all my heart, and though luring him here had been the plan I’d set out to accomplish, all I felt was sorrow. Warner might kill him.
No, you don’t care. Rook is poison. But deep inside, other feelings still lingered. Feelings I couldn’t allow to exist because he and I hadn’t been real. Our love had been just another fantasy, one of thousands he created each year for his guests. Only this time, I was a player in his story. No, I didn’t doubt that he wanted to shut down the lagoon after so many years of being a slave to whatever really lived inside it, but he’d been determined to spend his final days living in a dream where I was his wife, we were happy, and he had my love.
A fantasy, all for him. Nevertheless, my heart ached with loss because it had been all too real for me. I’d never loved anyone like that. And losing us? It felt like shit.
I ambled toward the SUV, and Mr. Classy shoved me in. My cheek clipped the side of the door.
“Ow! Sonofa…” I groaned, feeling a trickle of blood down my face.
“Oops. I forgot to mention you’ll be wearing purple and red tonight.”
A dry lump stuck in my throat. Why did I get the impression he wasn’t talking about my clothes?
Rook
Feeling young and strong never tasted so bitter. I could barely look at myself in the mirror. My shiny dark hair, my vibrant steel-blue eyes, and the tight muscle tone and strength of my large body were reminders of the emotional pain I was about to inflict on the woman who meant more to me than my own life.
How will she ever forgive me? The answer was, she wouldn’t. It wouldn’t matter that her father died voluntarily, but all I could do now was save her life.
As my limo pulled up to Warner’s office building in Queens, I straightened my black tie and prepared for the ultimate game of chess. Yes, I held several strategic positions; however, he controlled the most powerful piece on the board.
The driver opened my car door, and I stepped onto the curb, noting the unusually cool summer breeze across my face. A bad omen. I craned my neck and looked up at the sooty brick facade of the five-story building. It was just as miserable and dirty as the men inside, no doubt.
I entered the lobby, which was empty except for a man with a scar on his face and one foggy eye.
“This way.” He headed for a stairwell, bypassing the elevator. I assumed it was an attempt to set a tone—I would be shown no civility.
Sorry, Warner. Not my first gangster rodeo.
We made our way up to the third floor, which contained nothing but boxes stacked against one wall, blocking out most of the sunlight from the dirty windows. On the other side of the dusty room, a man in his fifties with dark hair, wearing a white shirt and black suit, chewed out a guy in torn jeans.
“Mr. Price,” my escort cleared his throat, “your guest is here.”
The man in the suit glanced over his shoulder and scowled. “I’m almost done,” he grunted and returned to barking orders at the tense employee. “I want it all cleared out by tonight. You got that? You fuckin’ got that?”
Again, I presumed this was all for show. Warner Price wanted me to see that he was the boss and I was a nobody who had to wait his turn. I couldn’t care less about what Warner Price thought of me, himself, or anyone for that matter. I was here to help the woman I loved, the woman who’d betrayed me and sold out my island. I got it, though. I truly did. She’d been looking for answers about her missing sister.
Warner dismissed the man and turned his attention to me. “You ready to talk business?” He straightened his cuffs.
“No,” I replied.
“Excuse me?” He arched
one dark brow.
“I’m not here to talk,” I said in a stark tone. “I’m here for Stephanie. You can have the island and everything on it. My plane is waiting to take you there, but you give her to me now. She and I walk away now, or no deal.”
His almost black eyes twitched with irritation. “You think you call the shots, Rook?”
“Let’s cut the bullshit, Warner. I know what kind of man you are. I know you traffic over two thousand women a year and sell them for five thousand apiece. I know you push a hundred kilos of heroin a month along with a few tons of cocaine per year. You’re worth about ten million dollars, which you hold in an offshore account in the Caymans, and I also know you’ve been under heavy surveillance for the last six months. Someone tipped you off, which is why you’re trying to offload everything as quickly as possible.”
He bobbed his head slowly. “Seems you’ve been educating yourself.”
I had. The last twelve hours had been a scramble, but my friends came through. I knew everything about this piece of trash. “Like I said, I know what sort of man you are. The question is, do you know me? Because I am not without resources, and I would venture to say my friends are hungry for the chance to kill you.” I drew a slow breath. “My offer is a good one. My plane can carry a lot of inventory. You’ll get no hassle from US Customs, the FBI, or anyone if you leave now and let Stephanie go. Wait until tomorrow, however, and you’ll be dead or in jail. I guarantee it.”
He rubbed his chin. “So you’re offering me a way out, huh?”
I nodded, fully aware that this plan could backfire. Men like Warner would sooner chew off their own dicks than be backed into a corner and do what they’re told; their egos got the best of them.
“I’m offering you a very lucrative deal,” I said. “A woman—one insignificant person in the scheme of your empire—in exchange for a place to safely operate your business. No laws. No police. Just you. You’d be the king of your own private kingdom.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You must think I’m stupid.”
No. You’re just greedy as fuck. “My opinion of you has no bearing on this deal. Just like your opinion of me doesn’t factor in. You want the island or not? Because I sure as hell want to offload it. I’m ripe for retirement, a cool climate, and fishing.”
“Yeah, you see. That’s the problem. You’re giving in way too easily, which makes me think you’re up to something. I know things, too, Rook. Like…nobody knows where your island is, but you could change that once I take over. And no laws means no laws—for me, the DEA, or the FBI. They could waltz right in, arrest me, and there’d be no one but my men to stop them. And I don’t know about you, but I ain’t got no army. Yet,” he added.
Spit it out, you sonofabitch. What do you want? “Your point?”
“The island is worthless if it doesn’t come with the kind of protection you’ve got going on and it doesn’t stay a secret.”
I had anticipated this might be coming. Warner would want certain guarantees. “Very well, Stephanie goes free. Now. Today. I will go back with you to the island while you establish yourself.”
He wagged his thick index finger. “Nah. No deal. You could fuck me over the minute she’s gone. Hell, how do I know you don’t plan to have your men kill me once I get on your plane?”
A marvelous idea. However, I knew who I was dealing with: a ferocious rat.
“Frankly,” I replied, “if I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be standing here.” I dipped my head and narrowed my eyes, letting him know that he wasn’t the only savage predator in this room. “You think I’ve survived this long playing nice? You think I’d know so much about you if I didn’t have connections?” I shook my head slowly. “We’re not so different, you and I. The only difference is that I’ve been doing it a lot longer.” I wasn’t sure what Stephanie had told him, but his reaction would tip me off.
“Doubtful. You both come with me. I let her go once I got everything I need.”
So he wasn’t aware of the fountain of youth. “How do I know you won’t kill us once you have what you want?” I asked to test the aces up his sleeve.
“You don’t. But it’s a risk you’ll have to take. It’s either that or we kill Stephanie now. You along with her.”
And risk going to prison? Having everything taken away? Time to show a bit more teeth. “You asked why I was giving up so easily. Simple. Maybe you’re not the first jackass to try to take my island. Maybe I’m ready to retire. And maybe, just maybe, I’ve got the sort of leverage that would destroy you, Warner. So before you start making demands and assuming I’m a pushover, consider this: Perhaps I am allowing you to win.” I drew a breath and exhaled. “So let us, you and me, be done with this. I have no interest in keeping the resort, just as I have no interest in watching an innocent young woman die for your amusement. I’m tired. I’m ready to enjoy the fruits of my labor. So take the island or don’t. But just know if you touch her, running from the US authorities will be the least of your problems. You’ll be penniless.”
He narrowed his eyes, and if I had to guess, I’d say he was attempting to ascertain if I was bluffing. I wasn’t. The bank owner was an old friend, and I meant that in the literal sense. I had all of my money with him.
“If you don’t believe me,” I added, “call the bank now. You’ll find that your funds have been frozen. They’ll stay that way until I say so. Just like you’ll stay free long enough to escape, unless I say otherwise.” I straightened my tie. “You’re not the only one who knows how to play dirty, Warner.” The people who were alive because of the lagoon would do anything to help me. In fact, sometimes I felt more like the devil than a monk—selling sin, taking lives, and peddling youth and beauty.
Warner looked over my shoulder at the large man who’d been hovering over me the entire conversation. “Bring her.”
I let out a silent sigh of relief. “I’m glad you’re a rational man, Warner.”
He chuckled. “Rational? I’m anything but that.”
Stephanie’s muted groans ricocheted through the room. I turned to see her bound, gagged, and fighting. There were bruises and cuts on her face and arms. Her left eye was swollen shut, and blood ran from her nose. She still wore the same black cocktail dress I’d seen her in the night she’d left the island. The only thing about the brutal sight that gave me relief was the fury in her eyes. She was still alive, and that was all that mattered, but they’d seriously fucked her up.
I’m going to kill you, Warner. In the worst kind of way.
“Rook, Rook, Rook,” Warner tsked, “you just made a big mistake. You love her.” His words came out like an accusation.
Sonofabitch. The look in my eyes just now told Warner he had all the leverage he needed right here in this room.
Warner grabbed a gun from the small of his back and pointed it directly at Stephanie. “Here’s my offer. I blow her brains out unless you take me back to your island, release my money, and make sure I’m set up good for a very, very long time.”
So he’d taken the most unreasonable path, as I’d figured he might. “Very well. Then let us go to your new home.” The thing that Warner didn’t realize was that the island couldn’t be taken, it could only be given. Warner will never live there. He’ll only die. Until then, I had to make sure he didn’t kill anyone, and I got Stephanie away from him. For which, I had a special fantasy planned just for him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Stephanie
Considering the part I’d played in luring Rook to New York, I thought facing him would be impossibly difficult. But after the beating Mr. Classy gave me, the Grim Reaper could’ve showed up to drag me to hell and I would’ve welcomed him with kisses. It turned out Mr. Classy’s weapon of choice was the blunt side of an old brick. “It hurts the most, leaves the biggest marks, but breaks the least amount of bones.” He’d licked the edge with his pink tongue, sending a cold shiver down my spine. “Something about the porous surface distributes the impact, and I like that. Because we wouldn
’t want you dying on us, now would we? Not yet anyway.” He’d proceeded to slam the thing into my soft tissue with the skill of a man who’d done this before and thoroughly enjoyed it. My brow, cheeks, and jaw screamed with pain, but my shoulders, forearms, and wrists were numb.
“You alright?” whispered Rook as the SUV pulled out, heading to a small private airstrip south of Newark, New Jersey. Both of us in the backseat, I had been handcuffed to one of those plastic gripping handles above, but Rook had been left free. I supposed the tyrants in the car figured he wasn’t going anywhere as long as they had me and their guns. Warner rode behind us in one of four other cars containing his evil posse.
“I’m alive,” I mumbled, wishing for an ice pack and refusing to look at him.
“I am sorry they did this to you.” Rook brushed a stray lock of my hair behind my ear and leaned in so close, I could smell his sweet breath. In fact, everything about him was fresh—the lustrous shine on his dark messy hair, the smooth olive skin, and the glow in his mesmerizing eyes. He’d retaken his vows and gone for a swim.
I wonder which poor person paid the price for Rook’s makeover. Because the last time I saw him, he’d looked ten or fifteen years older with silver streaks in his hair and soft wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. Now he looked as wickedly handsome and as perfect as the day we met.
I looked out the window, not wanting to feel anything for him—not grateful he was sitting next to me, making me feel safe again; not warm in my chest because when I looked at him, all I saw was the beautiful man who whispered softly in my ear while he made love to me; and not dizzying attraction that made my heart buzz. I didn’t want to feel any of it.
“Look at me.” He placed a gentle hand on my chin and forced me to meet his gaze. “Whatever happens next, you need to know that I don’t blame you, and it hasn’t changed my feelings for you, Stephanie.” An affectionate, reassuring smile danced across his lips. “All that matters is you’re alive. And I’ll do anything to keep it that way.”
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