by Elle Kennedy
Vince’s fury whipped through the air like a bolt of lightning. He was apoplectic with rage, growling like a wild animal as he pounced on her, pinned her between his strong thighs, his heavy body pressing down on her chest, robbing her of breath.
“You think I’m going to let you get away with this? I’ve waited a year for you, you stupid whore! I own you!”
“No. You. Don’t.” Each word was a wheezy burst of air.
Adrenaline scorched through her veins, giving her a boost of energy that enabled her elbow to shoot up and connect with Vince’s throat. He made a muffled gagging sound as his head was thrown back, and that two-second beat was all the time she needed to wriggle out of his grasp and jump to her feet.
“You fucking bitch!”
Olivia grabbed the first item she found on the vanity table—a black eyeliner pencil. Breathing hard, she curled her fingers around the pencil, then whirled and shoved the pointed end directly into the side of Vince’s throat.
He stumbled a little, his eyes filling with disbelief, and then a primal cry flew out of his mouth and he lunged at her, even as he ripped the pencil out of his neck. Blood oozed from the wound, but not the gushing spurt she’d hoped for. She’d missed his artery, and that one error cost her—the next thing she knew, she was on the floor again, lying flat on her back with Vince’s body crushing her chest like an anvil.
His hands came around her throat, squeezing hard. She batted at him with her fists, but that only caused him to tighten his grip. Her vision blurred and her lungs burned. God, he was actually going to kill her.
Vince’s enraged face loomed over her, spittle flying into her eyes as he continued to fume and pant like a rabid dog. “You are not worthy of me! You hear me, Olivia? You’re nothing but a cheap whore! Screwing some punk right under my nose! Who do you think you are?”
His fingers dug into her throat. No air got in, and her head began to spin, incoherent thoughts hurtling through her mind. She was going to die. Vince would strangle her to death, and then he’d get rid of her body, the same way he’d gotten rid of the customer—
“Let her go.”
The cold female voice barely registered in Olivia’s muddled brain, but she did notice that Vince froze. That his grip on her neck loosened.
“What the hell are you doing?” he snapped.
“Let her go. Now.” A shuffling sound. “Make no mistake, I will use this on you. Now take your hands off her throat.”
The weight on her chest eased when Vince abruptly scrambled to his feet. A burst of air promptly flooded her lungs. Coughing wildly, she welcomed the rush of oxygen, greedily sucking it in like a starved woman. As her brain began to function again, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
Candy, standing by the lockers, holding a gun in a two-handed stance and pointing it directly at Vince’s head. Vince was staring at the blonde in disbelief that mingled with the fury seething in his eyes.
“This has nothing to do with you, bitch.”
“Maybe not, but I don’t feel like watching one of my colleagues get choked to death.” Candy’s aim abruptly dipped to his crotch. “Close your mouth, Angelo. You shout out for your guards and I’ll shoot your dick off. Sure, they might put a bullet in my head when they rush in, but not before I get off a shot of my own. And my accuracy is quite good, trust me.”
Vince blanched, but his jaw slammed shut.
Olivia’s mouth was still wide open. She stared at the other dancer, absorbed the skill with which Candy held her weapon, and in that moment she didn’t doubt that Candy Cane was perfectly capable of blowing Vince’s junk off.
Suddenly those sharp blue eyes were focused on her. “You okay, honey?”
She nodded numbly, reaching to rub her sore throat as she stood up on wobbly legs.
Still holding the gun, Candy dipped her free hand into the purse dangling from the locker door. She pulled out a set of keys, and, without taking her eyes off Vince, tossed them in Olivia’s direction.
Startled, she caught the keys.
“Silver Honda, west side of the lot,” Candy told her. “Go wait in it. I’ll be right behind you.”
She was about to protest, but the blonde glared at her. “Now, Olivia. And be careful walking out. Make sure his guards can’t see into this room.”
Stopping only to grab her purse, Olivia pivoted and raced to the door. She opened it a crack, took a quick peek, then slipped out and shut it behind her. Vince’s guard Mikey stood in the hallway, and his eyes narrowed when he caught sight of her face. She knew she must be paler than snow, and from the way her neck kept throbbing she suspected her throat was bruised all to hell.
She caught Mikey’s eye and spoke in a terse tone. “Vince is on the phone. He’ll be out in a moment.”
Without waiting for him to respond, she started to walk, forcing her unsteady legs to maintain a normal, measured pace when all she wanted to do was run for her life. She didn’t risk looking over her shoulder to see if Mikey had entered the dressing room. She prayed that if he did, Candy would be all right.
Oh God.
What the hell just happened?
She still couldn’t believe that Candy Cane had pulled a gun on Vince.
Think about that later. Focus on getting out.
Taking a breath, she moved through the employee corridor toward the back exit. Only when she got outside did she start running, breaking out in a mad sprint to the Honda Candy had described. A click on the key remote and the locks slid open, and then Olivia dove into the driver’s seat. With shaky fingers, she started the engine.
She waited. A minute ticked by. Two.
God, where was Candy? She said she’d be right behind her. But what if Vince had attacked her? Or his guards had swarmed the dressing room?
Olivia’s hand trembled on the gearshift. She had to go. Now, before Vince charged out that door looking for retaliation. His pride was the only thing that mattered to him, and she’d taken a damn sledgehammer to it. Now that he knew about Luke, Vince wouldn’t rest until he’d punished her.
But she couldn’t leave Candy behind, damn it. Not after the woman had just saved her life.
Fortunately, she didn’t have to desert anyone. The back door of the club suddenly opened as if a blast of air had hit it, and Candy Cane came tearing out, her leather boots snapping as she bolted to the car.
A second later, the blonde was in the passenger seat, shouting, “Drive!”
Olivia’s heart lurched. “What happ—” Before she could voice the question, the club door burst open again and two of Vince’s guards ran out.
“Drive,” Candy repeated.
Olivia drove. Fast. The scent of burning rubber filtered into the car as she sped out of the parking lot in a screech of tires.
“Where am I going?” she asked frantically. The residual adrenaline coursing through her blood was making her dizzy and she had to blink a couple of times to clear her vision.
“West. Make your way to Tribeca,” Candy said briskly. She pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number. “Sullivan? It’s Isabel.”
Isabel?
And wasn’t Sullivan the name of Luke’s friend?
Olivia was in a daze as she listened to the one-sided conversation. Her foot shook on the gas pedal, making it difficult to control the car, especially at the high speed they were traveling.
“We’ve got a hell of a situation here. I got her out, but I shot one of Angelo’s guys. We’re making our way to the safe house. Yeah . . . yeah . . . meet us there in—”
“No!” Olivia exclaimed. “We can’t!”
Candy—Isabel?—swiveled her head. “What are you talking about?”
“My mother’s home alone,” she blurted out. “Vince might use her to get to me.”
The blonde nodded and lifted the phone back to her ear. “Change of plans. Head over to Olivia’s place instead. Get her mother. No . . . try not to scare her. Make something up. Just get her out of that apartment and to the safe house . . . No
. . . I’ll drop Olivia off and ditch the car afterward. Okay . . . good . . . see you soon.”
As Candy hung up the phone, Olivia kept her eyes on the road, speeding through an intersection before the amber light turned red. A hand reached across the seat divider, touching her arm. She flinched and scowled at the woman beside her. “What the hell is going on? What did you do to Vince?” Anger shot up her spine. “Who are you?”
“What’s going on is that I saved your ass,” the woman said bluntly. “Vince is probably hunting us as we speak, and me, well, I’m obviously not who I said I was. Any more questions?”
* * *
The Diamond Mine’s employee area was in chaos. Dancers in a panic, waitstaff wandering around in shock. Vince stood outside the dressing room door, gazing down at the pool of blood on the floor.
His hands trembled in rage. That stripper bitch had shot Mikey in the leg.
Melinda, the club manager, stepped forward nervously. “Should I call the cops, boss?”
Vince bit back an expletive. “Not necessary. Just calm the girls down and make sure everybody gets back to work.”
“But shootings have to be reported to—”
“To nobody,” he interrupted with a scowl. “Mikey is fine. He’s getting looked at by a doctor right now.”
“Boss—”
“Back to work!” he snapped. “And get someone to mop up that goddamn blood!”
Stalking away from Melinda, he went up to his office and slammed the door behind him, so consumed with rage he couldn’t see straight.
Candy Cane. He couldn’t believe it. When she’d pointed that Beretta at his groin, the bitch had meant business. Hot waves of anger, blended with humiliation, formed a lethal cocktail in his gut. That bitch was going to pay for humiliating him.
And so would Olivia.
Oh yes, Olivia would pay for her betrayal.
His body began to shake as white-hot fury tore through him. Growling, he whipped out his cell phone and called Rocko.
“Where is she?” Vince boomed.
“I don’t know, boss. All three of us went after the Honda she drove off in, but we lost her.”
He closed his eyes briefly. Drew a calming breath. When he spoke, his voice was soft and deadly. “Find her. Go to her apartment, kill her fucking mother if you have to—I don’t care what you do. Just find her.”
Chapter 20
Luke jumped off the sofa when Isabel and Olivia entered the apartment an hour after he’d arrived. He ignored the agony shooting through his body and rushed to Olivia, who, despite looking shell-shocked, threw her arms around him. Their chests connected with a jolt, and when he winced, she didn’t miss the reaction.
“Are you okay?” she demanded.
He offered a noncommittal shrug. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“No, he’s not,” Trevor announced. “Take a peek under his shirt.”
Luke resisted, but she was already tugging on the bottom of his T-shirt. She rolled it up, blanching when she saw the bruises marring his abdomen. “Vince did this?”
“Yes. But I really am fine,” he assured her. “I’m more worried about you. What happened?”
Her mouth flattened. “Vince attacked me in the dressing room.”
She tilted her head up, and the light caught the bluish finger-shaped marks on her delicate throat.
Olivia must’ve noticed the murder in his eyes, because she let out a soft breath. “Don’t worry. Isabel stopped him from doing any real damage.”
“You inflicted some damage of your own,” Isabel said in an amused voice. “Nice move with the pencil to the neck.”
When he noticed that Olivia didn’t return the blonde’s smile, Luke offered a contrite look. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that Isabel was working with us. It was for her protection as much as yours.”
Olivia nodded. “I figured.”
He glanced over at Isabel. “Thanks for getting her out, Izzy.”
“I aim to please Jim Morgan and his men,” the blonde replied with a faint smile.
Taking Olivia’s hand, Luke led her to the couch and gingerly lowered himself to the seat, pulling her down beside him. Trevor and Isabel left them alone, the couple drifting toward the kitchen, talking softly to each other.
D and Holden were holed up in the guest room, monitoring the Diamond Mine via the security feeds, but Luke was kind of apprehensive about asking for an update. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what state the club was in. Apparently Isabel had shot Angelo’s guard on her way out of there, so Vince was likely to be on a rampage. Not only had he lost Olivia, but his bodyguard had taken a bullet to the leg. He’d be gunning for both women, but Luke wasn’t worried about Isabel; she could take care of herself. He was far more concerned with the woman sitting next to him.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice.
“What for?” Olivia asked.
“It was my fault he attacked you. I slipped up and that’s the only reason he went after you.”
She exhaled heavily. “No, it was bound to happen. I’ve been walking a fine line for the past six months, trying to keep Vince at bay, but he was going to snap eventually. I figured it would happen when I refused to sleep with him.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.” Her green eyes blazed. “But that’s the last time that son of a bitch lays a hand on me, Luke.”
“Damn straight,” he said in a lethal voice.
“I’m serious. I want you to give me a gun, or show me some better self-defense moves.” Her mouth set in a firm line. “If Vince or anyone else ever comes after me again, I want to be able to stop them.”
He squeezed her hand, then swept his thumb over her knuckles. “I’ll keep you safe, darlin’.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he hurried on. “And I’ll also teach you how to keep yourself safe, okay?”
“Okay.” She went quiet for a moment, and then looked at him in dismay. “I’m worried about my mom. I called her on the way over and told her that a friend of mine was coming to pick her up. I think I freaked her out.”
Trevor drifted back to the living area. “Your mother is fine. Sullivan just checked in. They’re on their way here.” He held two mugs of coffee in his hands and gave one to Olivia, the other to Luke.
Isabel trailed after him with two more mugs. She settled in the armchair, while Trevor perched on the arm of it.
“What did you say to Kathleen?” Luke asked.
Olivia sighed. “The truth. That she had to get out of the apartment because our lives were in danger. I’ll tell her the rest when she gets here.” With a grim look, she met his eyes. “What happens now? Can my mom and I stay here?”
“I think it’s better if we get both of you out of the country. You can stay at the compound until we take care of this Angelo situation.”
“I agree that my mom can’t be here, but I don’t think I should go.”
“It’ll be safer if you leave town too. Angelo will be looking for you. He’s out for revenge, Liv.”
“I know. But—”
Luke silenced her by pressing his finger to her mouth. “But nothing. You’d be taking too big a risk if you stay, and I’d feel a hell of a lot better knowing you’re being protected at the compound.”
Fortunately, the front door opened before Olivia could argue. Sullivan entered the main room with Kathleen Taylor, who wore a blue cotton kerchief over her head, a loose shirt, and sweatpants. She looked positively frantic—until she spotted her daughter. “Liv! Thank God!”
Olivia vaulted off the couch and hurried over to her mother. As the two women embraced, Luke heard Olivia murmuring soothing words. The sight of them spoke to something deep inside him. One so frail, the other fit, yet both women were tough as nails. It was frickin’ poetic.
“What on earth is going on?” Kathleen demanded when they broke apart. She looked past her daughter’s shoulders at Luke, then at Trevor and Isabel.
Olivia cleared her throat. “Is ther
e somewhere private where my mom and I can talk?”
“Master bedroom,” Trevor supplied. “Double doors at the end of the hall.”
With a nod of gratitude, Olivia gently took her mother’s hand and led her to the corridor.
Once they were out of earshot, Luke turned to Isabel with a somber expression. “Angelo will be hunting her,” he said flatly.
“Oh yes, he will. He’s furious.” She hesitated. “He was strangling her. I know she said it wasn’t bad, but . . . Jesus, he nearly killed her.”
He gritted his teeth. “You should have put a bullet in his head.”
“I couldn’t. We need him alive if we want to find Dane, remember? Besides, my gun wasn’t equipped with a suppressor. A gunshot would have alerted the guard outside the door.” She looked apologetic. “My first priority was getting Olivia out.”
His throat closed up. “You’re right. That was the only priority.”
* * *
“Mom?”
Olivia searched her mother’s face, her heart breaking as the silence dragged on and on. They were sitting side by side on the king-size bed in the master bedroom, where she’d just spent the last forty-five minutes talking. And talking. And then talking some more. She’d confessed everything—about her job at the Diamond Mine, the attack in the alley, Vince’s obsession with her. She’d told her mom about Luke’s mission, their agreement, the drugs, Cora’s death.
Through it all, her mother had listened—and hadn’t uttered a single word. Now, with the chasm of silence stretching between them, Olivia was so overwhelmed with shame she wanted to weep.
She blinked back tears. “I know you’re disappointed in me.”
To her surprise, her mother grabbed both her hands and squeezed them. Kathleen’s grip was surprisingly powerful for a woman who could barely hold a fork for longer than a minute.
“You can never disappoint me,” Kathleen said with unfaltering conviction. “Never.”
The tears spilled over and coursed down Olivia’s cheeks. “I lied to you.”
“That I’m disappointed by. You should have told me, Liv.” Kathleen sighed. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry for putting you in this position.”
