by Cynthia Dane
Nurses congregated in the doorway. Some were ready to jump in and pull Monroe away from the bed. Others were calling security. Yet others hissed, “That’s Damon Monroe!”
Alice tried to respond, but tears fell from her eyes the moment she opened her mouth. What are you doing? Hold me. Her hands feebly reached for him. In a matter of seconds, Monroe had her wrapped around his shoulders, her tears wetting his navy blue dress shirt and steel gray tie. Desperation crashed into her. Monroe held her so tightly that something bruised beneath Alice’s gown.
“I’m all right,” she repeated, overwhelmed by his scent and the powerful touch of his body. “Thank God you’re here.”
She said that, and yet something hung heavy in Alice’s heart.
“I heard from my bodyguard.” Monroe lowered Alice back to the bed. His hand remained clasped around hers. “As soon as I heard, I canceled my meetings and flew back here. I haven’t stopped worrying since the moment I heard you were in the hospital from a fire. What the fuck happened?”
His bodyguard halted the security guard approaching the room. Linda remained totally perplexed.
“There was an accident.” Alice’s voice must have been a type of aphrodisiac, for Monroe kissed her, stealing the last of her breath right from her lungs. Linda gasped behind him.
“Alice! Who is this?”
As soon as Monroe pulled away, Alice said, “By the way, Mom, this is my boyfriend, Damon.”
He turned, as if he hadn’t even noticed Linda’s presence. “Pleasure to meet you,” he grumbled. Linda did not exist. She was a non-entity taking up space in the room. “I’m her fiancé.”
Alice slammed her head against the pillow. “Damon!”
“I’m serious,” he growled, hand on her face, thumb on her mouth. “Now, more than ever, I see that I need to protect you better. You’re my fiancée, Alice. Marry me so something like this never happens again.”
“You’re what now?” Linda was up. No matter how many bodyguards this man had, none of them could stand up to the wrath of Mama Bear. “Explain, Alice!”
“We’ll discuss this later.” Damon finally turned to Linda. “Damon Monroe. Pleased to meet you. Don’t worry about any of this. I’ll cover the costs.”
“I…”
“Remember how I said I was dating someone?” Alice managed a small smile. “Guess things got serious pretty quickly. Don’t tell Dad yet.” When Linda remained dumbfounded, Alice continued, “Mom, could you give us a few minutes? There’s something I need to talk to him about.”
For as many questions as she certainly had, Linda was probably glad to take a break from the chaos in her daughter’s hospital room. “I’ll go get you more water.” She left the room without taking the pitcher with her. The door closed behind her. Alice was alone with Monroe.
“You can’t go deciding things like that,” Alice said, torn between embracing him again and turning away from the man who declared himself her fiancé. “Give a girl some time to recover before asking her to marry you.”
“I’m not asking.” The sharpness of Monroe’s voice made her suck in her breath. “You will marry me, Alice. At the very least, come live with me. Shit like this would never happen under my watch.”
When tears returned to her eyes, Monroe attempted to wipe them away.
“I’m alive because of Dee.”
“Who?”
“My bodyguard.” Alice snorted. “You know, the woman you hired to shadow me even if I didn’t know she was there?”
“And she’ll be duly compensated and commended for her actions. I chose well when I hired her.”
Sure, take all the credit. Alice wanted to smile, but the dangers hanging over them were too real. How the hell could she smile at a time like this? One small smile spared for his arrival. That was it.
“We need to talk,” Alice said. She entwined her fingers with his. “It’s serious.”
How did a woman tell the man she loved that his father had tried to kill her? How did she present such evidence? How in the world did she make him believe her? Against his own father?
“What is it, my love?” Monroe pulled her greasy hair away from her head. I’m so unkempt. She smelled of body odor and anxiety. She looked a pale, oily mess. While she suffered no burns, she coughed every few minutes. The doctor said she would recover soon enough, but smoke inhalation was no joke. A few more minutes and she would’ve been dead. Just what Russell wants. “You can tell me.”
“I think I know who started that fire. It was no accident.”
Finely trimmed brows furrowed into the deepest scowl Alice had ever seen on that already stern face. “Tell me. Now.”
Alice didn’t doubt that Monroe saw himself as her savior. The man who would protect her for the rest of her life. The only one fit for such a honor. Money? He had billions at his disposal. Love? His heart was tepid at best, but the intent was there. The man wanted to love. He wanted to create domestic harmony and spoil one woman for the rest of his life. Security? What kind did Alice want? She could have it.
All Alice had to do was say a name. He was waiting. An old boyfriend. A stalker. Someone from work. A good for nothing neighbor. Monroe was ready for any of those. He would sic his own militarized team on them, if the police refused to do their damn jobs.
But his own father? Was he ready for that?
“I should clarify,” Alice began. “I don’t know who set the fire, exactly, but I do have a pretty good idea who arranged to have it happen.”
Something glistened in his dark eyes. Did he know? Did he have an inkling, even subconsciously?
“Your father.”
Was Alice imagining the deafening silence in the room? Did she make up how hard her lover squeezed her hand? No? He really was crushing her bones and making her wince and cry for relief? One thing was for sure. Alice did not imagine that visage of pure, unadulterated disbelief taking over the entirety of Damon Monroe’s face.
“Don’t jest about such things at a time like this, Alice.”
She whimpered, both from her crushed hand and the disapproving look on his face. “I’m not joking,” she insisted, even with the meekest voice she could muster. The tears returned yet again. This was what she feared. He wouldn’t believe her! “Your father has threatened me multiple times.”
“He’s all bluster.” Monroe spoke with finality.
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t know him like I do.” At long last Monroe dropped Alice’s hand, both of his landing on his hips as he pushed back his suit jacket and exposed his leather belt. “He threatens and bullies people into agreeing with him. I’ve seen it a million times in the boardroom. He says he’s going to cut someone’s throat, but the only cutthroat business he engages in is decimating banquet dinners.” A scoff of disbelief escaped him. “Put that idea out of your mind. If it wasn’t an accident, I’ll find out who did this.”
This wasn’t the time. This wasn’t the damn place. Yet Alice couldn’t hold back the words frustratingly pouring from her mouth. “Even your mother has warned me! She told me all about the horrible shit your father did to her! Which includes healthy doses of physical abuse and lighting her on fire, Damon!”
She had never seen this man shocked before. Not truly. He had been surprised. Startled, maybe. Shocked? Never. Apparently the only way to shock Damon Monroe was by accusing his father of foul bullshit.
And bringing up his mother.
“What are you talking about?” No emotion existed in his voice. Even his face calmed into the blankest expression donned before Alice. “What’s this about my mother?”
Alice swallowed. Where was her mother and that water? “I’ve met your mother before. Three times.”
Damon loomed over the bed, head slowly coming down toward Alice’s. It was not for kissing her.
“Start. From. The beginning.”
Now Alice knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of Damon Monroe’s ire. Was this what his employees felt like when h
e was on a tear? Did he inherit this wild and cold look from his father? Was this what Alice had to look forward to should she marry this man and accidentally piss him off? I can’t. I can’t look at him. Sobbing, Alice turned away, fear gripping her heart.
Somehow, she spoke. She started from their second meeting, after they had sex in his family’s penthouse and he sent her on his way. Russell’s first threat in the building lobby. The deranged woman with the burn scars who hopped into the back of Alice’s ride home.
When she mentioned the burn scars… that was the only time Monroe’s eyes whirled in anything but anger.
Alice explained what happened in Chicago. Julia, back again, this time dropping in on a café and subsequently inviting Alice to another hotel, where she told the most harrowing tale. It was not easy to replicate for the woman’s son. How could Alice even gloss over the atrocities his estranged mother suffered at the hands of his father? All the fear she lived with? Recounting a moment of abuse in Damon’s own childhood that he claimed to not remember? The tipping point for Julia to finally leave… and then have the nightmare grow?
How did she tell the man she loved that his father tried to have his mother killed in one of the most horrific ways?
Plus it was fire! Clearly, it was Russell’s go-to weapon against the women he deemed too big of a nuisance in his life. I wasn’t good enough for his son. I was a threat. So, he tried to kill me. That’s what one does, apparently.
Monroe remained standoffish through this tale, but he did not interrupt her. Instead, Alice received the hard look of a man who didn’t want to believe a single word she said. This was the moment he realized that he actually did not know this woman he claimed to love so much in so little time. Alice wanted to agree that he was a fucking idiot. For all you know, I’m crazy. So fucking crazy I make up stories about your family!
“You always talk about trusting your gut,” Alice finished with. “My gut tells me that your father wants me away from your life so badly that he’ll kill me. What are you going to do about that?”
Monroe didn’t speak for another minute. His eyes glanced around the room, from the thin blanket on Alice’s legs, to the sun setting outside, to the drab clock on the drabber wall. Baseball players walked to bases on the TV screen. Nurses argued whether to ram into Alice’s room. Linda Culver crowed in the background that she had a right to be in there too.
“Why didn’t you tell me about my mother supposedly harassing you?” So, that was the most important thing? Somehow, Alice wasn’t surprised. “How do I believe you?”
Alice knew that was coming. “She gave me a small package to give you when we were in Chicago. I put it in your suitcase. You didn’t see it?”
“No,” Monroe was quick to snap. Then, “I don’t unpack my suitcases.”
“Of course you don’t.” Who had done it? Was it Ms. Clayborn? Or her shit for brains brother who was obviously working for Russell? The moment Mr. Clayborn saw that wedding ring, he knew what it was. And got rid of it. Alice would bet more than her life on it.
“These are hefty accusations, Alice.”
“You think I don’t know that? For fuck’s sake, Damon, I’m not making it up!”
He lowered his hands from his hips. “You’re not feeling well,” he rationalized. “This has been a trying time for the both of us. I’ll let you get some rest. When it’s time for you to be discharged, I’ll set us up in a hotel.”
Monroe turned to leave, with a nary a kiss or another hold of her hand. Alice pushed herself up in the bed. “You don’t believe me,” she said matter-of-factly. “Fuck you, Damon.”
He stopped.
“You’re just like him,” Alice snarled. “Your mother was right to warn me, wasn’t she? You’re all shit. You’re all a bunch of murdering thieves!”
She didn’t mean to get that nasty. Not right now, anyway. But Monroe walking away from her? Not offering her a bit of solace besides throwing money at the situation? Fuck him. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need any of this. The whole reason her life was literally burning down was because she insisted on dating this man. What good was this man, anyway? Just because she loved him didn’t mean it was good for her. That they were good for each other!
“You might want to take that back.” Monroe glared over his shoulder.
Alice wasn’t afraid of him. Julia had been right to warn her, but not because her son had turned into an abusive fuckwad like his father… but because he was a spineless piece of shit who would let her die before admitting his life wasn’t perfect.
“No,” she said. “I will not. Get out, Damon. I never want to see you again.”
He gave her one last lingering look before storming out of the room. His bodyguard rushed after him down the hall, finally letting security take over Alice’s room and the nurses and bedraggled mother back in. They fawned over her, asking her if she was okay, taking her temperature and blood pressure, but nobody could save her hardening heart from the malice it constructed out of blood and spite.
Maybe she was Monroe material after all.
Chapter 16
That spite was the glue holding Alice together over the next two weeks. Spite was the only emotion allowed to enter her heart whenever she started to think about Monroe, his father, or what almost happened the night some goon lit Alice’s apartment building on fire.
The fire marshal had inconclusive results from his investigation. Naturally, whomever Russell had hired did a good enough job to not leave any evidence behind. Unfortunately, this also meant there was no evidence that someone had tried to kill Alice. Not even Candice’s suspicious tickets to Las Vegas were enough to get her loved ones to see what was going on.
So, spite it was. Spite also bolstered her through one of the nastiest breakups she ever experienced. This was worse than Matt, of all bastards.
Linda and Candice thought that Alice’s constant breakdowns – whether they were in the hospital room or the hotel she moved to after her discharge – had to do with the trauma she suffered the night she almost died. In truth, she cried every time she thought of Monroe.
Her anger spawned from memories of him disbelieving her. That his family could do something so cruel to her.
Her sorrow was born from the ache in her heart and the hole in her soul. She may have been willing to say that she was in love with Monroe, but actually being without him – forever – forced her to face those feelings.
She loved him. Even now, she loved the awful bastard. Alice spent her sleepless nights dreaming of the way Monroe both made love to her and held her through their too few nights together. Chicago was a fantasy. Him coming over to her apartment, for the sake of being with her?
Alice would never have that again.
It was for the best. She knew that. Candice knew that. Linda blankly nodded when the two young women attempted to explain what was going on with Monroe. “Some guy I dated for a few weeks, Mom. As you can see, he was too out of control and possessive. Wasn’t healthy. Had to break up with him.” Linda kept telling her that she did the right thing. As handsome and wealthy as that man had been, a possessive personality wasn’t cute. Not in real life, anyway.
If Alice stayed away from Monroe – and if he managed to stay away from her – then the terror would be over. She would never have to worry about Russell again. He got what he wanted. Even if Alice couldn’t be killed, she would at least be scared shitless enough to never come around again. What did she value more? Her relationship… or her life?
Monroe would get over it. He would move on. He was in a position to quickly recover and bounce back in a new relationship a few months down the line. He’d find someone new. Maybe Natsuko Matsuda was still interested.
Alice’s possessions had been mostly destroyed from either the fire itself or from smoke damage. The fire department allowed her and Candice to salvage what they could, which wasn’t much. Alice’s closet was toast, which included all of the designer clothes. Most of the stuff in her dresser on the other side
of the room was okay. Her old clothes of her older life.
All that remained as tokens of her relationship were the choker and the emerald ring, two pieces she was still wearing when Dee dragged her out of the apartment and to safety.
Alice didn’t have the heart to get rid of them. Not yet. She had thrown them into the bottom of the new purse her mother bought her and never looked at them again. First, she would need the spiteful heart to sell them for some much needed cash.
Monroe still paid for her medical treatment, but that was the extent of hearing anything from him. No phone calls. No texts. No assistants showing up at her hotel room door to collect her for dates or to relay information.
The only person she saw from that life was Dee, who swung by the hospital in plain clothes to inform Alice that bodyguard services had been terminated. “I’m on medical leave anyway,” Dee had said. “But I wanted to make sure you’re okay. Guess I’ll kinda miss you.”
Alice should have been grateful to return to a sense of normalcy. She may be sharing a standard hotel room with Candice until they could find a new apartment, but it was more normal than what she went through with Monroe.
On the third night in the hotel room, Alice sobbed herself to sleep. Candice rolled over in the other bed and covered her head with a pillow. Eventually, Alice was too much. Candice crawled out of her bed and into her friend’s, consoling her with bad TV and a bag of popcorn.
That was the last time Alice cried. She made sure to get it out of her system so she would never cry about Monroe again.
Her heart froze like ice. Her soul shut down. Her mind turned its attention to only one focus: getting another job.
Debts were cleared. Insurance paid for the hotel room while the roommates scrounged up the deposit fee for a new apartment. Yet Alice couldn’t spend every day of her life sitting around a hotel room, being reminded of what wonderful things Monroe did to her the last time she was in one.
“Are you nuts?” Candice asked as Alice circled job ads in a newspaper. “Or are you…”
“Taking matters into my own hands again?” Alice flipped the paper over. “I’m looking for a job, Candi. I’m not on Tinder or OkCupid trawling for prawns to fuck. Not like any Joe out there can fuck like He Whom I Will Not Mention anyway!”
