Regan Harris Box Set

by Kelly Wood

  “Don’t be a drama queen.” Passion rolled her eyes at me in the mirror.

  “Listen to me.” I shook her shoulders. “What would be the worst thing possible for Frank right now?”

  “Having this weekend sabotaged?”

  “Exactly. What would be the icing on the cake?”

  “I don’t know,” Passion said, her tone sharp.

  “Having the weekend ruined and the love of his life hurt! That’s you!” I pointed at her chest.

  “Regan, we’ve done this show a hundred times in practice. I know what I’m doing.” Passion brushed me off with a wave of her hand. She stood and walked past me to the costume area. I followed right on her heels.

  “I’m not happy with that,” I said.

  “I’m not happy with you butting in. This is my night. Let me enjoy it.”

  “What if it’s your last night? The show isn’t worth it.” I refused to give up. I needed her to see reason.

  “Come on.”

  “Listen. What if it’s your last night of dancing? Would you chance your career?” I asked.

  I finally had her. I tried to keep a straight face so she wouldn’t see me gloat. I let the silence drag on between us as she looked for her costume.

  “I’m still going on,” Passion said.

  “Okay. Just let me stay here and keep a watch out. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “What if you see something? Something dangerous?” Passion asked.

  “I get your attention and stop the show.”

  “But only if there is very obviously danger. Other than that, the show must go on.” Passion raised her finger at me. I crossed my heart and hoped to die. I cringed as I thought the words.

  “Now, let’s find you something to wear.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Guy Bianchi September 1988

  “You have two choices.”

  Guy ignored the comment and pretended to still be unconscious. The pounding in his head forced him from sleep. He tried to ignore it and drift back into oblivion. When sleep still eluded him, Guy covered his eyes with his hand. His fingers brushed against a lump on his forehead. Shooting pains brought a moan from his lips. He carefully touched the area again. Threads stuck up from where the wound had been stitched. It’ll leave a nasty scar, Guy thought.

  “I know you are awake.”

  Guy gave up and opened his eyes. Even the small movement brought tears to his eyes. The room was dimmed, but light still sent daggers into his brain. He glanced around the room. A fire blazed in the fireplace. Guy quickly looked away from it, but not soon enough. His vision was blurred, but he could see the outline of a man sitting a few feet away from him. Guy rolled onto his side intending to prop himself up. The room spun around him, bile rising in his throat. He gave up and laid his head back down as slowly as he could.

  After a few moments the nausea subsided. Guy opened his eyes again. He blinked his vision into focus. The man in the chair leaned forward. Guy could see his face clearly for the first time.

  Garrett Costa.

  “Do I have you to thank for this headache?” Guy asked.

  Costa ignored the question. “As I said before, you have two choices.”

  “Live or die? How dramatic.” Guy watched Costa swirl the glass in his hand. The ice clinked against the side. The small noise sounded like gunshots to Guy.

  “Either way you live. For now,” Costa said. His voice held no warmth. How could my father get into bed with this man? Guy thought.

  “What are the choices?”

  “You have feelings for Gracie, no?”

  “Gracie?” Confusion wrinkled Guy’s forehead, causing more pain. “If you’ve laid a finger on her—”

  “You’ll what? Try to move and vomit all over my Persian rug? She’s fine.”

  “Then, what? What do you want?” Guy took in the room. He’d never been here before, but based on Franky’s description, Guy guessed he was in Costa’s home office. Guy shifted on the couch, trying to find a more comfortable position. When he realized every movement hurt, he gave up. He closed his eyes, but quickly reopened them. Costa wasn’t the type of man you took your eyes off of, no matter how much pain it caused.

  “I know you and Gracie planned to run away. You... and Gracie... and your unborn baby.”

  Guy’s heart hurt at the mention of their child. Gracie was Costa’s cousin by marriage, but he wouldn’t think twice about hurting her if it benefitted him.

  “What do you want?” Guy asked again.

  “I want you to make a choice. You can leave. Move somewhere—anywhere–else. Another country preferably. Walk away from your life here and never look back.”

  “Or?”

  Costa stood up and moved to the couch. He sat on the edge, his hip pressed against Guy’s side. His gray eyes looked into Guy’s. Steel gray, cold and unfeeling. A shiver went up Guy’s spine.

  “After you are well, you and Gracie run off together.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  “The catch? If you choose Gracie, I will hunt you down. I will find you. And then, I will kill Gracie. Slowly. While you watch. It may take me a while to find you, but I would. After Gracie draws her last breath, I will turn to you. The child I would keep. I would raise him or her as my own. In a loving family.” The pain of losing Gracie and the baby overrode the pain in Guy’s head.

  “And my life?” Guy asked. He tried to clear his head and ask any questions he could. He needed to see this from every angle. He needed to find the loophole.

  “No, no. Not yours. I will spare your life.” Costa finished his drink, slamming the glass onto the table. Guy’s head roared in response.

  “If I walk away? Alone?”

  “I will protect Gracie and the child until I draw my last breath. I will make sure she is provided for. I will help rear the child. I will guarantee both of their safeties. And, I will keep them far away from the darker sides of our lifestyles.”

  The thought of Costa having a hand in raising his baby gave Guy shivers. Although, Guy had seen Costa with his son and he truly seemed to adore his father. Could Guy risk Gracie and the baby? Even if it were a one percent chance that Costa would find them, was it too high of a risk?

  The answer was yes. Any chance of harm that could happen to Gracie or the baby was too much.

  “Not much of a choice, is it?” Guy asked.

  “No. It isn’t. But, do you love her enough to leave? To know she will be safe?”

  “I’m supposed to trust you after you assault and kidnap me?” Shock lit up Costa’s face.

  “Me? I saved you.” Costa watched Guy for any flicker of memory. “You don’t remember any of it?”

  “I—” Guy stopped speaking when he realized he didn’t remember. He remembered his name. His family. Gracie. He tried to focus on his last memory before waking up here, but it was fuzzy. “A party?”

  “Yes. At my hotel.”

  Guy waited for Costa to continue, but Costa took a drink instead, studying Guy. Watching for any other memory to surface.

  Guy thought back to the party. He remembered dancing with Gracie. He remembered their excitement while planning their escape. Guy was overjoyed when Gracie told him she was pregnant. But then reality overrode any elation he was feeling. Guy didn’t want his child to grow up in this life. He wanted to watch him—it was already a boy to Guy—play in the yard without bodyguards hovering nearby. Guy wanted him to go to school without the shadow of the family business. Guy wanted his son to have choices and freedom. He knew right away what he needed to do to make it happen. Guy was ready to leave immediately, to give his son all of those things, but he had one thing holding him back.

  Franky.

  Franky was the one person Guy couldn’t just leave. He wanted Franky to come with them. But if Franky didn’t want that then Guy at least wanted to say goodbye. Guy met Costa’s intense gaze with his own confused one.

  “Anything?” Costa asked. Guy started to shake his head
, but quickly stopped himself when the shooting pains returned.

  “Only the party.”

  “You owe this,” Costa pointed to Guy’s head, “to Franky. He hit you with a hammer.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Costa rose from the couch. He crossed the room to large armoire in the corner, opening the doors. Inside sat a small TV. Costa turned it on along with the VCR sitting on the shelf above. Costa checked the machine for the correct tape and then pressed play.

  The image was in black and white, but clear. Franky and Guy stood in a construction zone. Tools and construction materials were scattered around them. The video didn’t have sound. Guy and Franky talked for a few minutes. Parts of the conversation looked heated. Guy walked away. Franky bent down and picked up the hammer. Guy guessed Franky had called his name because the video showed him turning back. Franky swung the weapon, clubbing Guy across the forehead. Costa ended the tape. He shut down the TV and closed the cabinet again.

  “I watched you that night. I watched you with Gracie, your heads bent together, and thought how happy you looked. Especially Gracie. She practically glowed.” Costa snapped his fingers. “It reminded me of Mary Francis. I have seen her glow, too. Whenever she was with child.

  “You see, I was hoping for a union between you and Gracie. It would cement my relationship with Bianchi. The two families would merge into one strong unit.” Costa walked back to his chair and sat down. He crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap before speaking again.

  “I followed you and Frank down into the basement. Imagine my surprise when—”

  “When he tried to murder me?” Guy interrupted.

  “No, no. When you confessed your plan to run away with Gracie. I would’ve been caught up in the mess of you turning snitch. I have a family to protect. Figuratively and literally. I couldn’t have that. Antonio would’ve blamed me. Our union would’ve crumbled. It would be a war zone again and I promised my wife no more violence, no more death. And, I don’t like to break promises to Mary Francis. Plus, you are more valuable to me alive.” Costa paused, looking Guy straight on. “It was a relief really when Frank took you down.”

  “I thought you enjoyed that part of the job.”

  Costa shrugged his shoulders, neither admitting or denying it. “Maybe I’ve turned over a new leaf. Having children changes people. Mary Francis gave birth while you were asleep. A boy. We named him Gray.” Costa’s eyes glazed over when he spoke of his son. He lost the scary edge. “Or maybe I just realized this was a great opportunity. You want to leave and now I want you to, too.”

  “I want Gracie,” Guy said with as much force as he could muster.

  “Gracie’s not an option.” Costa wagged a finger back and forth. “I need Gracie here.”

  “Why?”

  “Insurance.”

  Guy weighed his options. There was a third choice. “I could stay. Take Franky’s place by my dad. You and I could work together. You’ll still get what you want.”

  “Not good enough. You don’t have the heart to run a family. Or should I say, you have too much heart. You need to make a choice.”

  “Leave Gracie forever or let you kill us? Not much of a choice.” Guy watched Costa. He didn’t doubt for a minute that Costa would kill him and Gracie. Guy couldn’t sacrifice Gracie. “How would I know she was safe? Her and the child?”

  “I’ll keep you updated. Maybe even send some photographs.”

  “Why didn’t you just finish the job Franky started?”

  “Maybe I’m getting soft?”

  “I doubt it.” Guy snorted.

  Michael shrugged his shoulder. “Like I said, insurance.” Costa frowned and picked a piece of lint off his pantleg. “Right now, the work is being finished on the basement room. I removed your body before Franky had the chance. I will let him think I know he killed you. It gives me the leverage I need to control him.” Costa waved his finger in the air. “And, I can bring you back if Frank ever forgets his place.”

  “I get it. I’d boot Frank out and take back control of the Bianchi family. Only in appearance, though. You’d be pulling the strings. What happened to your fifty-fifty agreement?”

  “Every good boss maintains control. You,” Costa pointed at Guy, “give me control over Franky.”

  “Why can’t I take Gracie?”

  “Frank would know you weren’t really dead.” Costa turned contemplative again. Guy expected a comment about Costa’s kids. What he got instead shocked him. “I thought about leaving the family once. I was a little younger than you are now. I didn’t have the guts. This is the only life I have ever known,” Costa said.

  “Why don’t you leave now?”

  Costa harrumphed. “Too late now. Can’t go back.”

  “I don’t want Gracie hurt,” Guy said.

  “Wise choice.”

  “I have conditions.”

  “You don’t have much power to be demanding anything,” Costa pointed out.

  “You want me gone with Gracie here. That gives me enough power. I’ll stay gone. For her. To guarantee her safety. I won’t make any deals. I won’t cause any problems. As long as she is safe.”

  “I could just kill you.”

  “If you wanted that, you would’ve done me in already.” Guy held Costa’s gaze, showing more confidence than he felt. “It doesn’t hurt to at least hear what I want in return.” Costa nodded, so Guy proceeded. “Frank is never to marry Gracie. Ever. Under any circumstances.”

  Guy had Costa’s attention with the first demand. Guy knew Costa would marry Franky and Gracie as quickly as he could talk Gracie into it. To strengthen the family.

  “You don’t need them married to have control over Franky,” Guy pointed out.

  “True. Next?” Costa asked.

  “Weekly updates with photographs when you can. I want to know every detail of their lives.” Costa nodded. “And lastly, I get to come back. When the time is right, I get to come back and get my revenge on Frank.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “No.”

  “Regan, you’ve got to blend in,” Passion pleaded.

  “That’s dental floss, not a dress,” I said, pointing at the offending garment.

  Passion grabbed my arm and pulled me close to her. “You are putting this on or I am sending you back to your seat. No one will question you if they think you are just one of us.”

  I dragged the outfit to the dressing room. I may have lost the battle of wearing the thing, but I refused to change in front of a bunch of strangers. I pinched and squeezed and shoved my way in. By the end, I looked like a fist squeezing silly putty between the fingers. There was no way I would be fooling anyone.

  Passion took one look at me and laughed. She began tugging and molding my body to fit into the suit. It was actually very modest but gave the impression of nudity. From my neck to my ankles, my skin was covered in a thick flesh-colored nylon. Over the nylon, a silver, sequined bikini adorned my body.

  “This thing is too small,” I said.

  “I got the biggest one we had.”

  “Thanks.” I infused as much sarcasm as I could into the one word. “You’d have to have two percent body fat to pull this thing off.”

  “Don’t exaggerate. I have like eight.” I gaped at her as she snapped the suit into place. Eight whole percent of body fat? What a cow.

  “There.” Passion stood back to admire her work. I looked in the full-length mirror next to her. While I still looked too large for the outfit, I looked better than I did. At least my mushy parts weren’t sticking out anymore.

  “I guess this will do.”

  “You look great. Put this on while I attach your tail.”

  I held the hat to my head. The skull cap fit snugly across my brain. Now every part of me was being squeezed. Passion walked around my backside while she attached the other part. I sighed in relief that my exposed dairy-air would be covered. My ‘tail’ actually spread out a foot on either side of me. The frame was covered in sequ
ins and feathers and matched the hat shooting straight up off my head.

  “All you have to do is stand on the edge of the stage behind the curtain. You’ll be able to see me the whole time,” Passion said as she handed me a pair of strappy four-inch spiked heels.

  “Got it, and no.” I pointed to the shoes. I bent down and retrieved my ballet flats. Passion tossed the heels back into a pile, giving up on making me wear them.

  “Regan, you are only to interrupt if there is real danger.” Passion waved her finger in my face imploring the seriousness of her words.

  “I got it. Real danger.” I didn’t point out to Passion that our versions of ‘real danger’ may vary. I knew I would stop the show way before she’d actually want it stopped.

  I stood back while the dancers organized themselves. I peeked around the edge of the curtain. My parents and Gray sat in the third row. Gray’s parents and Gracie sat one row ahead of them. Thankful I had all of them in my line of sight, I locked in on their positions in case I lost them when the lights dimmed.

  “Places, everyone.” A dark-skinned man carrying a clipboard repeated the two words at he worked his way around the stage. I was pushed aside as dancers ran onto the stage. My feathers caught on everything around me. I batted them back down with my hands.

  The lights dimmed and the curtain was raised. Dancers whirled and kicked around the stage. I looked around the curtain again. Gray’s eyes scanned the stage, but quickly came back to rest on me. I wasn’t quite as hidden as I’d thought. I eased back a little but continued to watch the audience and the girls, especially Passion.

  Silk scarves fell from the sky. Four dancers leapt and grabbed the material. I held my breath as Passion twisted her body while being raised above the other dancers. She used her feet and hands and head to wrap the silk, twisting the material around her as she held different positions in the air.

  I scanned the room again. Movement caught the corner of my eye. Michael stood up and walked back up the aisle. He buttoned his coat as he went. Gray quietly exited his seat as well, following Michael. Both of them disappeared through the entrance doors.