We fall to the ground, each landing blows where we can. I crack him good and hard in the mouth and I land a solid punch to his ribs. But his firm kick to my groin sends a shock through my system. I recover quickly, though, pounding his face with my fists. Tussling around on the carpet like a pair of drunken twenty-somethings, waking up the entire building on this goddamned Sunday morning.
Some birthday present this is!
A framed painting falls off of the wall and a chair somehow gets broken. Before long, there are hands on me. Not Bob’s hands. In my rage-tinged vision I see the hotel owner and a guy renting a room down the hall. They’re pulling me and Bob apart, separating the scuffle.
Laurie is still crying, cursing the day I was born, cursing the day she ever met me. “You’re sick, Raphael. Dirty. Eva is just a little girl. Why don’t you find someone your own age?”
Eva’s in the corner with tears pouring down her face. “I’m not a child,” she blubbers.
"This is my daughter! And you’re just a sick, lonely billionaire looking for a pet project to fill your time,” Bob spits out as he fights against his restraints. “I always knew she'd end up as some rich guy's whore. I just didn't know she'd be yours. My best friend. My best fucking friend." The men are hauling him to the door. “You’re dead to me!” he yells at the top of his lungs. “Both of you.”
Laurie grabs the cake, heading after him and muttering ugly words into the air. When she gets to the threshold, she spins on her heel, seeming to have changed her mind about leaving. She marches right up to me, lifts the dessert with a dignified huff and smashes it into my face. I stand there, stunned and defeated, icing falling off my cheeks in lumpy chunks.
Well, I guess she was going to make me eat that cake one way or another.
Frosting blurs my vision as she stomps away. And the only thing that registers in my mind is Eva’s pained wails filling my ears.
Chapter 37
Evangeline
I feel ill. Physically sick to my stomach.
I knew that my parents would be upset about Raph and me. I knew that they would take it hard. But not this hard.
My dad attacked Raph. My mother called me every name under the sun. And now, I’m sitting here on the bed with my mind in shambles.
My eyes ache. My bones ache. My heart aches.
I’m devastated. I found true love and instead of being happy for me, my parents have gone completely psycho-pants.
My gaze follows Raph as he limps across the room holding a damp towel to his cheek. Blood stains the terrycloth fabric.
“You okay?” He asks as he sits on the bed next to me.
Am I okay? He’s the one with a huge black eye and a purple bruise on his shoulder.
"I just can't believe my parents reacted like that, I can't believe they treated you like that." I reach up and slide my hand over his, holding the towel in place and applying gently pressure to hopefully stop the bleeding. "Does that hurt?" I ask when he cringes slightly.
He gives me a weak grin. “I’m a tough guy,” he says playfully. “This is nothing.”
I hate seeing him hurt like this. It makes my chest burn. "My father is an animal."
His tongue slides over his lips and he looks nervous. “Are you having second thoughts, Evangeline? If all this is too much for you, I understand.”
Scrunching my brows, I shake my head vigorously. “Not at all. No second thoughts. I’m all in, baby.” My heart thunders as my gaze narrows in on his features. “Are you having second thoughts?”
His answer takes a heartbeat too long to come, but then he smiles at me and whispers. “Not a chance. I’m yours, 100 percent, Kitten.”
“Good,” I whisper.
“Good.” But I still have that niggling feeling in my stomach, telling me that he isn’t sure. He basically confirms my doubts when he says, “I just don’t want to drive a wedge between you and your parents.”
My relationship with my parents is the least of my concerns right now. “Fuck them if they can’t accept that we’re together,” I bark sharply.
"You have your whole life ahead of you."
"Not without you."
"You can go to college. Find a guy your age. Build a life with him. Me? I'm holding you back."
"No no no no..." I drop my hand to his lap, commanding him to look me in the eyes. "No, Raphael. No..."
He pulls in a long, heavy breath. “Okay…As long as you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” I assure him. “I don’t care what my parents think. I don’t care what anybody thinks.”
I pick up the towel and cradle it to his cheek again. He flinches and for a second, I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve hurt his wound or if it’s my touch that causes him to want to shirk away. Then, he gives me a little smile and I push down my insecurities, deciding to accept the first option as my answer.
I survey his injuries again. He’s got to be in pain. These gashes are pretty bad. “We need to get you cleaned up.” I wander into the bathroom in search of a first-aid kit.
Raph hobbles in after me. “Eva, I’m fine, really.”
“I just need a few bandages and some peroxide to clean your cuts. And some ice for that goose egg on your forehead.”
He chuckles a little as he leans on the doorframe. “You’re making it seem like I got my ass handed to me. It really wasn’t that bad, Kitten.”
I angle a hip to the side and plant my fist on it. “Would you just let me take care of my man?!” I’m a woman – my nurturing instincts are firing all over the place right now.
Laughing again, he staggers closer and puts a kiss on my lips. My eyes flutter. “Okay,” he says.
Victorious, I drop a hand to his chest and drag my fingers down to his waistband. “I’m gonna run downstairs and get a first-aid kit. Then, I’ll come back and clean you up. And then, I have some really creative ways for how to make you feel much better.”
His eyes twinkle as I make my way to the door. “I’ll be here waiting,” he promises as I slide out the door. He calls after me. “Eva?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
My heart trembles with happiness. I don’t care how much my parents disapprove. This is the real deal. He’s the one.
“Love you, too.”
I finally let the last of my insecurities go as I hurry down to the reception desk. We’re okay, we’re okay. Everything’s going to be fine.
There’s no clerk at the desk and after waiting a few minutes for one to show up, I decide to just head out to the pharmacy. It’s a five-minute walk and I know that Raph might start to worry about me because he’s over-cautious like that but this is Reyfield. Nothing’s going to happen to me out here.
And I’m right. I make an uneventful trip to the drug store and fifteen minutes later, I’m back with all the supplies I’ll need to take care of his wounds. But when I knock at the door, there’s no answer.
What the fuck?
I hear a bumpy jangle coming from down the hall and I peer over my shoulder in the direction of the noise. “Looking for Mr. Silver, dear?” The hotel owner approaches me, pushing his cleaning cart ahead of him.
“Yes,” I say. “I left him here just a minute ago and now he won’t answer the door.” As I say the words, I begin to panic on the inside. What if something happened to him? What if he got a concussion from the fight with my dad? He could be laying on the floor in there, unconscious right now.
“He just left,” the man informs me.
I narrow my eyes on him, not sure that I heard right. “What?”
The hotel owner nods. “Yes, he just left with a few guys in suits. Nice suits. And they got into some fancy shmancy town car. They left in a hurry.”
“What are you talking about?”
The man shrugs a shoulder. “Just telling you what I saw, dear.” Turning his back to me, he pushes open a door and disappears into a supply closet, dragging his cleaning trolley behind him.
Leaving me alone with all my questi
ons and nowhere to find answers.
Chapter 38
Raphael
(Ten minutes earlier…)
She’s been gone far too long.
Maybe I’m being overprotective. Maybe I’m still on edge from earlier. But just a few minutes away from her feels like an eternity.
I shouldn’t have let her go down to the reception on her own after we had such a chaotic morning. With her parents showing up unannounced and wreaking havoc, I feel like I need to have her right next to me, tucked under my arm.
My patience runs thin as I sit on the bed a few more minutes, eyes peeled to the door, waiting, waiting, waiting. My heart drums in my ears. I try not to think the worse but it’s a losing battle. If anything happens to Evangeline, I won’t survive it.
“Dammit!” I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I’ve got to go find her.
Rising to my feet, I hobble to the door. Pain shoots through my battered limbs but I don’t care. I went through worse in the military. This pain is nothing. I ignore it as best I can as I turn the lock.
I swing open the door but I don't get too far. Two suited men come charging down the hall. They size me up.
The tall red-haired man breaks the tense silence. "Mr. Silver, we're with the FBI.” A pair of badges are flashed. “We have a few questions about Gwendolyn Spiers and the criminal organization that operates Club Audace."
Well this birthday just keeps getting better.
The agent pulls out his handcuffs, ready to shackle me. But his short, tough-looking partner gives him a sharp look that stops him.
"I'm calling my lawyer." I pull my phone out of my pocket and bring up Daniel Trotten's number.
The agents share a glance. “That might be a good idea.”
Chapter 39
Evangeline
(One week later…)
There’s a light tap at the door right before it swings open and Annaleigh sticks her head inside. The knocking is a warning that she’s about to come in, not an actual request for permission to enter. She knows that I refuse her company every time she tries to come and talk to me.
“I need some time alone,” I say hoarsely as I sit on the edge of the bed, staring blankly out the window.
She steps into the room anyway with Blakely on her heels. They sit next to me, each one flanking a side. “Honey, it’s been a week…” Blakely says softly. She reaches over to put a hand on mine but when she sees the way my fingers flex on my thigh, she hesitates and pulls back out of self-preservation.
It’s been a week? It feels like an eternity since I walked out of that hotel room, not knowing where the hell Raphael went or what happened while I was at the drug store. In that time, there hasn’t been even one sign of life from his end. Not a telephone call. Not an email. Not a fucking text message.
His cellphone has been disconnected and the last time I telephoned his office, his secretary told me flat-out that he wanted me to stop calling him.
Now, that’s cold.
He told me that he loved me, that he wanted to be with me regardless of what my parents think. And then…he just left.
I thought that he had changed, that he had realized that some things in life are more valuable than money. But when those businessmen showed up at his hotel room, everything we’d spent the past few weeks building went down the drain. His love of money won out over his love for me.
“Your mom called again.” Annaleigh looks at me with compassionate eyes.
I shake my head. “I don’t care. I don’t want to talk to her.”
I’ve wanted nothing to do with my parents after that whole debacle the last time I saw them. By now, they probably know how he abandoned me in that hotel room. I imagine them gloating about how right they were. So thankfully Annaleigh and Prescott were willing to let me crash in their extra bedroom. I can tell that Prescott’s just itching to start painting and transforming this room into the baby’s nursery but he hasn’t said a word. Yet. So for now, I still have a roof over my head and a bed to lie in every night to nurse my broken heart.
I can’t believe he just left me behind.
I thought that Raphael loved me but he just skipped town and that was it. He didn’t turn back. I’m starting to wonder if this was all just some game to him. Was it a middle life crisis or something? Because it was more than that to me. It was everything. It felt so real, like we were made for each other. Like he’s the only person who ever understood me. I loved him. I still love him. And he’s gone…
Annaleigh eyes me worriedly. “What’s the plan moving forward, Eva?” she asks. “You can’t just sit around here moping for the rest of your days.”
“Can’t I?” I ask, making a weak attempt at humor.
Blakely gives me a little smile. “No sweetheart. You have to pick yourself up. I know your heart is broken, I know it hurts…but life goes on.”
“So, what’s your next move?” Annaleigh rubs a hand over her little baby bump. Her belly has began to push against the fabric of her t-shirts and her cheeks are pink and rosy all the time. Pregnancy looks good on her. I wish I could tell her that but I’m so broken that I can hardly get a few words out without feeling like I’m going to break down in tears.
I shrug, my shoulders falling helplessly. “I don’t know.”
“Eva, you’re stronger than this,” Blakely reminds me softly, brushing her red hair from her eyes. “And we’re here for you. You can’t just stay paralyzed.”
She’s right. I have to pull my shit together. I give my friends a little nod.
“Any ideas what would make you feel better?” Annaleigh questions. She’s out of suggestions. She’s tried everything imaginable over the past week. Mani-pedis. Netflix and chill. Home-baked brownies with a little sumthin’ sumthin’ inside. None of it has made me feel any better.
But now, all of a sudden, I have an idea. Something that might dull the sharpness of my pain, at least for a little while.
“Maybe I could call Faith from the community center,” I tell them, my lips tingling at the corners as they curl up for the first time in days. “Maybe I could set up another jewelry-making workshop.” Maybe getting lost in my love of beads and trinkets for a few hours will help.
“That’s an awesome idea,” Blakely say encouragingly.
“An amazing idea, hun.” Annaleigh grins at me.
The two of them wrap me in a hug and the clouds part just a little bit. I think I even glimpse the sun.
Chapter 40
Raphael
Daniel Trotten really is as good as they say he is.
It’s been a month since that showdown in my Reyfield hotel room and the FBI still hasn’t indicted me. They haven’t even arrested me. Oh, they were going to but then Daniel showed up in his suit and tie, quoting obscure legal precedents and articles of law. They switched up their strategy quick-fast.
After all, the feds are really only interested in my cooperation. They’re not interested in tossing me in jail. That wouldn’t make the kind of splash they’re looking to make. I’m only a means to an end. They’re after the big fish – Club Audace – and I’m the only real lead they have.
Because I’m the only idiot who paid with a check.
Gwendolyn Spiers is a Versace-wearing, sex-trafficking kingpin. The FBI had been surreptitiously monitoring Club Audace's finances for months. Every other purchaser paid for their ‘merchandise’ using fat briefcases full of cash. In my shock and haste on the night of Eva’s auction, I made a fatal flaw. I left a paper trail. My million-dollar payment raised a major red flag and the FBI decided to follow the money. That trail led them to my Reyfield hotel room.
And now we’re here – Trotten, those two FBI buffoons and myself, in the spacious executive conference room at Silver Metal Brokers’ headquarters in Manhattan. This has got to be against FBI protocol but I don’t think they care. They just want to get to the bottom of this case by any means necessary.
I occupy the grandest chair, at the head of the table. It’s a silent
reminder to them that I’m in charge. This is my turf. They’re here on my terms.
Personally, I don’t give a fuck about Gwendolyn and her illegal sex trafficking ring. She could rot in jail for all I care. That’s where she belongs, anyway. I don’t mind playing a role in her demise. The FBI has already offered me criminal immunity in exchange for my full cooperation.
Dirty Silver (The Dirty Suburbs Book 7) Page 18
