by Kelly Wood
My problem was there were too many possibilities, too many likely suspects who’d want to hurt Frank. That was the life of the mob, I guess. I thought we’d narrowed it down to two, Gracie and his parents, but when I thought about it, Gray and I never found out what happened to Milano’s crew. Maybe it was even one of them? Or two?
Two people together would be able to pull this off. Like a tag team. You don’t have one suspect, now you want two? I thought to myself. I mentally slapped myself to pay attention.
Passion continued to twist and fall and climb again on her silk scarves. I shouldn’t call them scarves, they were fifty feet long and four feet wide. Passion wrapped her feet around each one, did the splits and hung upside down while spinning in a slow circle. Her face was frozen in a tense smile. I prayed she knew what she was doing. If she miscalculated and fell, she’d crack her head open.
My eyes followed the silk to the top. Above the stage, a series of catwalks crisscrossed allowing access to lights and equipment. I slowed down and scanned for any movement. The bright lights of the stage offered a little illumination for me to see up there.
A reflection caught my eye. Crouched directly above Passion was a man. He was dressed in all black, but he’d neglected to cover his head. The reflection of the lights on his bald skull gave me the only clue he was up there. I squinted my eyes and looked closer. Light glinted off his knife as he worked it against one of Passion’s silks. With all the moving she was doing, she’d never feel the tug of the knife through the material. Something may feel off to her but she wouldn’t know what.
Passion was still spinning upside down. If baldy managed to slice completely through one of her silks, either she would plummet down or her other foot would get caught, catching her, but possibly injuring her in the process. I couldn’t take that chance. This qualified as real danger.
I didn’t think, I just moved. I put my hands on my waist and kicked my legs like a Rockette. Sadly, my kicks barely cleared my knees. I wouldn’t fool anyone. I twirled and kicked my way past the other dancers. They were all professionals so they never stopped moving, but they shot weird looks my way, clearly knowing something was not right. I looked over my shoulder for a security guard, hoping one was chasing me. No such luck.
I stopped my act under Passion and yelled up to her, “You get down right this minute, young lady! There’s real danger.”
I pointed up above her head. Passion reached out both hands and grabbed each silk. I shook the uncut one. “Grab this one! The other one’s going to rip.”
As I said the words, Passion’s left foot dropped about six inches, her weight pulling down on the weakened silk. Fear crossed her face and she gave out a little yip of shock. She scrambled to grab onto the good side. The other dancers gave up all pretense of a show at this point, standing in a wide arc around us. Audience members stood and pointed toward the stage. The murmur of the crowd grew.
Someone shoved me out of the way. I fell to the stage. The tail of the suit absorbed the impact from my tailbone. My dad stood under Passion with his arms held out, ready to catch her in a basket carry. I stood up, rubbed my rear end and looked around the crowd for Gray. I realized he’d never returned after following his father out of the theater.
“Jump, baby. I’ll catch you!” Dad yelled.
“Passion!” Frank’s voice bellowed above everyone’s murmurs as he bounded to the stage. Frank’s voice cracked from fear and worry. I realized it took him awhile because he was sitting in a box seat in the back while my family was up close. The run down the stairs and up the aisle must’ve felt like an eternity to him.
A round of ‘ahh’s went up from the dancers. The dancers stood in a circle around us. Some had their hands over their mouths, while others covered their hearts. Frank and my dad jockeyed for position to be the hero. Both men were close in age and scrappy. They were close in height. Both men were good-looking and got second glances from the dancers. I didn’t think Passion realized just how similar dad and Frank were. When she did, she may rethink her whole relationship.
Passion untwisted her foot in the damaged silk and swung it over. With one foot straight up in the air next to her head, she slowly slid down the silk. A thunderous applause could be heard from the audience and the stage.
“Thanks, but I got this.” Passion winked at everyone. To the end, she was the ultimate showgirl.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I looked again to the catwalks. The bald man leaned over the railing looking down on us. His eyes locked with mine. He dragged his finger across his throat in a cutting motion and then pointed to me. I stuck my tongue out in response. I knew it was juvenile, but it was all I had.
I hit Frank with my hand and pointed up. Frank’s eyes followed my finger. Frank inhaled sharply and stumbled back a few steps. I ran behind the stage looking for the stairway leading up to the catwalks. My feather tail snagged on wires and cables. My hat slid askew, its feather plume sticking out at an odd angle.
I found the stairs and barreled up them, but the tail caught again. I took a step back and pushed my way through, shredding the feathers on the metal railings. I bounded up. The metal pattern in the stairs dug into my feet through my ballet flats, but I kept going.
I crested the top and came face to face with the culprit. He crouched down facing me, a knife in his hands. He wore a black turtleneck and black slacks. His muscles bulged through the fabric of his clothes.
“Regan Harris. Or, is it Thomas now?” he asked.
“I’m at loss. I don’t know who you are,” I said coolly. I stood with my hand on my hip giving him all the attitude I had.
“I thought you’d figure it out. I’m disappointed.”
“You’ve had work done, Guy.” I mentally adjusted the photograph Gray altered. Guy had his nose straightened and his chin squared. And, after hours in the gym, he had broadened his physique. I hadn’t factored that in when Gray and I aged the photo on the computer.
Guy Bianchi stood up and clapped his gloved hands together slowly. Sweat ran down my back as I debated what to do next. Once again, I ran straight into a dangerous situation without thinking through a plan. I had no way to stop him. I wasn’t armed. I definitely wasn’t dangerous. I wasn’t even clothed properly. I looked around me for a weapon but saw none. Guy took a step in my direction.
“Job well done.”
“Thanks. I think,” I said.
Guy turned the knife so the light caught it. Even a dull blade would hurt to be stabbed with. I took a step back, but the tail caught again on the railing. Feathers rained down to the stage. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the other dancers all looking up at the drama unfolding. Even after the excitement, the dancers still looked beautiful and flawless. I resembled a very sad peacock. I tried to straighten the hat.
“You’re going to come with me,” Guy said.
I hesitated in answering, hoping to give Gray enough time to get to me. I knew he’d come. Eventually. I hoped the noise of the crowd drew him back to the stage. With the dancers standing around, he’d know something was amiss and come looking for me.
“I’m going to pass. Thanks, though.” I tried to back away further. The feathers still pulled against the railing.
Guy pulled a gun out with his left hand and aimed it at me. My heart stopped beating.
“You brought a gun to your own knife fight?” I asked, nervous laughter escaping me. Guy sheathed the knife instead of answering.
Someone moved in the doorway behind Guy. I tried to keep a straight face, but I smiled when I saw Gray sneaking up on him. He was even faster than I had hoped.
“I’m actually on my honeymoon,” I said, hoping to distract him. I kept my eyes trained on his, afraid if I looked at Gray again, Guy would notice. “Why Passion?” I asked even though I thought I knew the answer.
“For fun. I really want you. It’s their turn to wonder where a family member is. If she’s coming back.”
“It’s been thirty years. Let it go.”
“Revenge—”
“—is a dish best served cold. How cliché. I expected more,” I said, waving my hand at him.
“Excuse me?”
I kept talking so his eyes would stay on me. Gray inched along but was still two feet away from Guy. “Seriously. Have you been locked in a basement? Tied to a chair? You’re an adult. You should’ve just come home if you wanted to.” One more foot to go.
“Guy!” Gracie yelled his name from the stage. Guy turned and looked over the side. His face softened when he spotted her. His hand reached down as if he could actually touch her from here.
Gray swung his arm trying to catch Guy in a chokehold. Guy ducked down, twirled around, and brought his fist up into Gray’s stomach. The air whooshed out of Gray. I cringed at the blow. Gray stumbled back a step. The knife hissed as it was pulled from its cover. Guy held it in front of him and lunged toward Gray. My world stopped.
The knife plunged into Gray’s side. Bright red blossomed across his white shirt. I screamed, covering my mouth with my hands. Guy pulled the knife out of Gray’s body and stabbed again. The gun was still in his left hand. He fought Gray one-handed, ducking and bobbing between blows. Gray continued to engage Guy, but he was clearly weakening. His movements weren’t as fluid. The punches he landed weren’t as solid. The sound of knuckles hitting flesh made my stomach roll when Guy connected with Gray’s chin. Gray’s head snapped back.
The catwalk swayed under us. I held onto the railings and braced myself. The movement startled Guy. He reached out for the railing, giving Gray a moment to recover from the hit. But Guy didn’t stop once he got ahold of the railing. He shook the walkaway back and forth. I held on even tighter. Gray lost his footing and slipped. His body tilted over the side.
I lunged forward trying to grab him even though Guy stood between us. Guy grabbed Gray’s arm and pulled him back up before he could tumble over the side. Guy spun Gray, wrapping his arm around Gray’s neck. The barrel of the gun pressed firmly against his temple.
Guy inched backwards with Gray. Both were tall, but Gray had to hunch down slightly to accommodate Guy’s arm restraining him. Doors burst open around us. Frank, Gracie and Michael poured through and took in the scene.
“This wasn’t part of the plan, Guy,” Michael said
“Stay out of it, Costa. This was my plan all along.”
“You helped Guy run away?” I asked. I was taking a stab in the dark, trying to piece the rest of it together.
“Forced is more like it. He,” Guy pointed to Frank, “left me for dead. Costa here fixed me up and sent me on my way.”
“But why? Why stay gone?” I asked.
“To keep Gracie and the baby safe. Costa would’ve killed them if I tried to return,” Guy said.
“That’s why you can see Gracie’s house from yours. So, you could watch her?” I asked Michael.
Michael refused to answer my question. Instead, he stared at Guy with hatred. Pure hatred. He may have been aware of Guy’s return and his pranks on the hotel, but holding his son hostage clearly crossed a line. I took a step back, trying to put as much distance between Michael and myself.
“Just let Gray go. He wasn’t even born yet when all of this happened. Please,” I said. Gracie kept quiet but watched the scene unfold before her. Silent tears rolled down her face. Frank’s face was drained of all color. He looked like he was staring at a ghost. Based on what Guy said, Frank truly believed him to be dead all these years.
“Gray’s my insurance. We’re leaving.”
“I thought you wanted me?” I asked.
“Plans change. I’ve learned to adapt. Either way. Costa here will hurt. If I kidnapped you, he’d have hurt watching his son scour the earth for you. If I take Gray, he still hurts knowing I have his son. Knowing his son won’t live through it. Either way he knows this is all his fault.”
“But, you said Frank left you for dead. Not Michael,” I said.
“I’d rather have been dead than spending the last thirty years without my family. That’s on him.” Guy pointed to Michael. “I’ll deal with you next time.” Guy pointed to Frank.
Guy glanced over his shoulder before retreating backward. Gray matched him step for step. Nobody tried to stop them. All of us too afraid of the gun going off and killing Gray. Pain ripped through my chest as they disappeared through the doorway. My heart broke in half.
“Noooo!!!” I yelled and raced forward. I followed them through the doorway but there was no sight of them. I ran right and left but couldn’t see where they’d gone. I banged on the walls hoping to find a secret doorway. Anything that could explain how they’d just disappeared. Tears ran down my face. I screamed in frustration. Arms wrapped around me holding me in a bear hug.
“Stop! Let me go. I have to find him.”
“They’re gone.” Michael’s voice was firm in his command. I fought with all of my strength to get out of his embrace. “Stop. Guy grew up in this hotel. He knows every nook and cranny. You’ll never find him.”
I slumped against him in defeat, but quickly rebounded.
“This is all your fault.” Michael loosened his grip when I turned in his direction. I slapped him across the face. My hand stung from the contact, but he didn’t even flinch. I threw myself at him. I beat on his chest with my fists until my energy was spent. He caught me as I started to sag. Sobs wracked through my body. I hugged myself, trying to find any comfort I could. Eventually the crying jag slowed but with nothing to fill its place I just felt empty. I needed Gray. I needed to find him. But, how?
To be continued...
Chapter One
Regan Harris
Magari Hotel and Casino
Las Vegas, Nevada
I pulled the blanket around me tighter, shivering into it. I couldn’t stop shaking. My mind raced with all the possibilities of what could’ve happened to Gray. He could be dead. He could be wounded and fighting for his life in some dark alley.
I took a deep breath and tried to make my bones stay still. I tuned out the yelling around me, hiding deeper in my cocoon. I rocked back and forth trying to comfort myself.
Pain wracked through my body. My shoulders shook as a sob escaped me again. I felt awful. All I wanted was Gray. I wanted him to put his arms around me and hold me. I wanted him and I to get on a plane and never come back to Vegas again. I wanted to see him grin and wink at me. I just wanted him. Here.
But, I wasn’t going to get that wish. Gray Thomas, my husband of twenty-four hours, was kidnapped before my eyes. Held at knifepoint, bleeding from the stomach, I was helpless to do anything but watch as he was led away.
My hotel suite overflowed with people. Everyone yelling at each about what should happen next. Liam, a Chicago police detective, wanted to call the police. Michael Thomas, Gray’s father and mob boss, objected. Of course, he did, I thought. This was ultimately all his fault. Frank Donato, owner of the Magari Hotel and Casino by day and mob boss by night, agreed with Michael. Liam argued his side, not knowing these men would never give in. At some point I would have to tell him he was surrounded by mobsters, but now wasn’t the time.
Mary Francis, Gray’s mother, sat in the corner alternating between screaming and crying. She demanded attention, so the women in the room offered it, while I was forgotten. I preferred it. I tucked my feet under me and pulled the blanket down, further covering my head. Only my eyes were peeking out. People stood around the room, pointing and bickering about what step to take next. Gracie was the only other person who’d withdrawn mentally, too. She sat across the room, almost invisible, on a bar stool. Her face blank and her body unmoving. While I was digesting the possibility of Gray’s death, she was struggling with finding out her husband was still alive after thirty years. The shock of seeing him and then watching him stab and kidnap Gray was just as overwhelming for her as it was for me. I took solace in the fact that Gracie loved Gray like he was her own. Maybe that would stop Guy from hurting Gray?
But, how would he know th
at? Guy had been gone for thirty years. Thirty. No contact with Gracie. He didn’t know her life or who she loved. My heart sank again.
My mother squeezed my shoulder, showering me with unspoken support and love. She stood behind the couch I was on in full-on mama-bear mode. If someone even looked my way, she put herself physically between them and me until the threat was over. Mom knew me well enough to know I needed time inside my own head before I entered the debate. I loved her even more for it.
I didn’t get an opinion. Or, I didn’t have an opinion as of yet. I was still digesting the information of Gray being gone. If I could do anything, anything, what would it be? I could join Liam’s argument to call in the police or the FBI. The only policeman I trusted right now was Liam. With Frank and Michael’s history in this town, I’d never be able to rely on the police here to have Gray’s best interest at heart. If we called them, I’d be relegated to sit on the sidelines and watch. My only contact would be any information Liam could send my way. That was unacceptable.
I didn’t like to watch. I liked to act.
But I didn’t know how in this situation. I didn’t even know where to start. Liam would help, to a point, but he’d insist the whole time that I called in the authorities. I needed someone who was willing to break the rules, who was willing to bend the law.
I glanced around the room again. My eyes fluttered over Liam and Jax, landing on Frank and Michael. Their heads were bent together while they whispered back and forth, the yelling momentarily stopped. Those two knew how to break the rules, but I couldn’t trust them to hold my purse, let alone help me now. They would willingly go after Gray, but they could leave a trail of blood in their wake. Gray would never want that on his conscience.
Gray.
I steeled myself against the pain of thinking his name. Gray was a fighter. Maybe he overpowered Guy and got away?
Then why wasn’t he back here yet? Or, why hadn’t he called?
Hope left just as quickly as it came. Guy Bianchi was strong and a good fighter. I witnessed that myself as he fought with Gray. Gray may be twenty years younger, but Guy had stabbed him. Gray was out there, hurt and alone. I needed to do something.
