Hunted

by Velvet Vaughn

  “You’re very lucky, Harlow Elizabeth. It could’ve turned out much worse. I just got a report that the entire country is in turmoil. Dominar assassinated most of the existing government and what’s left of the operation is fighting with their rival cartel for control. It’s a bloodbath.”

  She shuddered at how close she’d come to dying so many times. Thanks to Sawyer, she was alive and well and in lo—

  “You love him, don’t you?”

  Harlow wanted to deny it. The words should be said to Sawyer first. But she couldn’t hide anything from her grandmother so she simply nodded.

  “He’s a good man. I trust him to protect you. And he loves you, too.”

  “How do you know?” Her heart picked up speed.

  “By the way he looks at you. Talks about you. Darling,” her grandmother took her hand. “The man jumped on a plane to come get you with no information other than the country you were in.”

  She smiled. He had done that for her. “We live so far apart.”

  “That shouldn’t be an issue. If you love each other, it’ll all work out.”

  Her grandmother hugged her and she took comfort in the feel of the soft cashmere that brushed against her cheek and the scent of Channel No. 5 that tickled her nose. To the world, she was the leader of the United States of America, but to her, she was just Grandma.

  #

  After hugs and tears, Zoe reluctantly hopped on the plane and left with their grandmother, leaving Harlow and Duke alone in the waiting room while the doctor examined Sawyer. Grant and Wyatt had left to retrieve the COBRA Securities plane so they could fly home as soon as Sawyer was cleared to leave.

  Sawyer’s phone vibrated in her pocket where she’d stashed it for safekeeping. She tugged it out and checked the screen. She smiled and answered. “Hi Grandma.”

  Taylor Costa chuckled. “That’s the closest I’ll ever get to being the President of the United States.”

  “Hey, it worked.”

  “It did.”

  “At the time I couldn’t appreciate your attempt to sound like Grandma, but you did a perfect job. They didn’t doubt you a bit.”

  “I tried to sound all authoritative. I also had Dante feeding me instructions.”

  Her voice turned serious. “I can’t thank you enough, Taylor. You did exactly what was needed without question.”

  “Anytime, Harlow and I mean it. I’m so glad you thought to call me.”

  “Me, too.” Unlike Carmen, Taylor’s friendship was genuine and sincere and she hoped, life-long.

  “How’s Sawyer today?”

  “He’s doing better. The doctor is with him now. I’m hoping they’ll clear him to fly so we can come home.”

  Her thoughts spun at that last sentence. Home. Where was that now? Her grandmother had been right. If they loved each other, it would work out. She would never ask him to leave his job. He loved it and he was good at it. Plus, Taylor was there and they’d become close friends. She loved New York City, but it was just a place. She could paint anywhere.

  “What are you going to do?” Taylor asked.

  She had no idea.

  Epilogue

  One Month Later

  Harlow slowly strolled through the Cherise B Fine Art Gallery, the site of her first public showing, and studied the displays with a critical eye. The framer had done a perfect job matching frames with the prints, picking styles that were well-made and exquisite, with just enough detail for interest but not enough to distract from the paintings. Spotlights were positioned above to highlight every detail. One wall of the gallery was exposed brick, the rest painted a fresh, sharp white making a clean backdrop for the art, she supposed. Half wall partitions divided the space, with a mixture of track lighting and tear-drop pendants hanging down to light the space. The floor was covered with tiles that resembled wood, giving the room a trendy feel.

  She ran her finger over the slightly raised paint that was her signature. Harlow Duquesne. She wasn’t hiding anymore. The showing was in her real name and the response had been overwhelming, so much so, in fact, they had to issue tickets. They expected a record crowd and she’d even caved and accepted the secret service protection her grandmother insisted upon. It was more for the gallery and Cherise, the owner, than for herself. There was only one man she wanted guarding her body.

  She’d chickened out telling Sawyer how she felt when he was lying in the hospital bed. After she hung up with Taylor, Grant and Wyatt had returned and then the doctor signed Sawyer’s release papers. There was no time to talk on the flight with an audience, plus, Sawyer slept most of the way. She was glad. He needed to rest so he could recover.

  At one point when he’d been awake, she told him about her intention to send a note to the family of the man in the hotel room who died because of her. Since the country had been in chaos with no clear leadership or police force, he warned her against sending the letter. No sense in bringing any undue attention upon herself, even though she was completely innocent. He told her he would take care of getting the money to the man’s family for the amount she borrowed from his wallet, the cost of the destroyed cell phone, plus interest. She wanted to tell the family how sorry she was, that their loved one had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, how guilty she felt that he’d died, but she bowed to Sawyer’s wishes. After reciting the address she’d committed to memory, she tried to give him money but he brushed her off, saying he’d handle it. She started to argue, but his lids had drooped and then he’d fallen asleep again. She had a sneaking suspicion he’d faked it to win the argument.

  Once they landed, his coworkers descended on the plane like a swarm of bees and he’d been bombarded with care and concern. Unbeknownst to her, her grandmother had worked it out with Sawyer’s bosses and a plane was waiting to whisk her home. She thought she might spend a few days with Sawyer and Taylor. Instead, she barely had time to say goodbye. Just before she boarded, she thought he might ask her to stay. He opened his mouth, but closed it and smiled, a sad curve of his lips. Then he kissed her long and hard before stepping back. Letting her go. Getting on the plane had taken every bit of strength she possessed.

  She shed more than a few tears on the flight home. Once she landed, she’d been overwhelmed with interview requests and hounding paparazzi. Cherise had been in a full-blown panic, so she spent most of her time preparing for the showing. Paintings had to be selected, matted and framed. She’d been so busy, she barely slept. Still, Sawyer was never far from her thoughts. She spotted a tall, blond man on the street and ran up to him, only to be disappointed when he turned around. The man had tried to engage her in conversation but she just turned and walked away, dejected. She thought she heard his laugh once. She sought out the source of the sound, only to be saddened once again when it wasn’t him. The nights were the worst.

  She’d not only left one love of her life, but two. As much as she loved Duke and wanted to keep him with her, she just couldn’t take him from Sawyer. Despite his grumbling, he protected the dog and Duke was devoted to him. Though it pained her to do so, she told Sawyer that her apartment wouldn’t allow dogs. He promised to watch over him until she could find one that was pet friendly.

  They’d talked often, mostly in the evenings, but neither mentioned the ‘L’ word again. Each night, she learned a little more about him and each night, she fell more in love. He was all she wanted.

  He knew about the showing and had been so encouraging. When she had a hard time choosing which mat to use on a painting, she’d texted him pictures and he’d selected the lighter color. Now, as she gazed at the print, she knew he’d made the correct choice. The lighter hue brought out the colors of the paints. A week ago, she’d been convinced she couldn’t do the showing at all. What if people came and hated her art? Sawyer had talked her off the ledge, getting her head in the right space even from miles away.

  He told her he wanted to come, but he didn’t think he could get away. She told him she understood, and she did, but she’d been sadden
ed. This was the most important night in her artistic career and she wanted the man she loved at her side. His competent strength would calm her nerves. He’d called to wish her good luck this morning and as they were chatting, she answered a knock from her doorman to find him delivering a huge bouquet of fragrant, exotic flowers. Sawyer had timed his call perfectly.

  She rubbed her hands down her black floor-length empire waist gown. Famous designers had besieged her with samples when they learned of her showing, but she chose an up-and-coming artist who worked with a small staff in her tiny shop in LoHo…the Lower East Side of Manhattan. The dress featured a V neck with a low back, the sheer bodice encrusted with jewels. It was elegant and classy. Small diamond studs were her only other embellishment, besides the purple lily she’d plucked from the bouquet and tucked inside the fancy chignon her hairstylist had created.

  She took one last visual sweep around the space, making sure the paintings were straight and the lighting was perfect. She stopped in front of her favorite piece, Serenity. She’d painted it after she returned from attending the weddings of Sawyer’s coworkers after they’d rescued her sister. It was of the lake that surrounded the compound. It showed the trees in full green glory and a sailboat drifting along the placid waters. She’d painted it from memory, but she thought it was pretty good. It was a personal piece and she didn’t want to include it in the show. She had no intention of parting with it. But when Cherise saw it, she insisted it be displayed in the gallery. She promised it wouldn’t be listed in the brochure of items for sale.

  Cherise called her name, letting her know it was almost time for the doors to open. She started to turn away when something caught her attention and her eyes snapped back. She leaned closer. Sold! What the…Cherise had slapped a sold sign on the bottom corner.

  Maybe it was to let the patrons know that it wasn’t available. That better be the reason. She spun around intending to find out.

  #

  Sawyer straightened the black silk bow tie in the mirror and adjusted the white collar on the dress shirt. Over the past few weeks, the cuts had healed, the bruises had faded. His headache was long gone and his ribs were close to one hundred percent. The only thing that was still broken was his heart. He planned on mending it tonight.

  Coslos remained in turmoil, but the people were resilient. With assistance from international forces, a new government had been installed and they promised to rebuild and to combat the drug cartels. The destruction had been vast and wide-spread, but the number of deceased wasn’t as high as Sawyer had feared. Still, it would be a long time before the country healed.

  After Andrés’ taunt about additional quantities of Sarin gas, the two men Grant and Wyatt detained at the airport had been thoroughly questioned by interrogation specialists and both confirmed that there had only been one truck.

  Raul Escoban had been killed in prison. Someone buried a shiv into his brain stem in the cafeteria. He died face down in a plate of chipped beef. Despite the number of inmates in the area at the time, not a one saw anything. Big surprise. Not. Most agreed it was the work of Victor11 as payback for Dominar’s murderous rampage.

  After slipping in the gold and diamond cuff links that had been a gift from his parents on his sixteenth birthday, he lifted the black suit jacket off the wooden valet and slipped it on before adjusting the lapels in the mirror. “How do I look, Duke?”

  The smartest dog in the world “woofed” which he took to mean handsome. “Thanks, bud, right back at you.”

  With the white collar around his neck that also sported a black bow tie, matched with the white cuffs around his paws, Duke was positively dapper. They made quite a team. There was a special surprise tucked inside Duke’s bow tie. He even had a matching top hat, but Sawyer didn’t hold out any hope that the dog would go along with wearing it. He’d been good with the other bits of clothing but asking him to don the hat might be a little much.

  When he’d called Cherise, the owner of the gallery, she’d known his name. He took that as a good sign. He’d arranged for Duke to attend. The demand for Harlow’s showing had been so great, tickets had been issued. Cherise had conspired with him and she’d snuck him in for a private viewing. He’d been blown away by Harlow’s talent. He’d grown up in a house full of original artwork worth millions from famous painters, but none could hold a candle to Harlow. She had amazing talent. She captured light and depth and subtleties perfectly. The picture she’d sketched of him that Andrés used had been flawless.

  “Woof.”

  “Yeah, bud, I miss her, too.” Duke had flourished in the last month. He was a confirmed black lab and had only been a few weeks old when they found him...Harlow found him, he corrected in his head. She was the one who crawled under the dumpster and coaxed him out. He’d already grown with a constant diet and he had so many playmates at the compound, he radiated joy, wearing a perma-doggie grin. Having him by his side had eased some of the loneliness he felt at Harlow’s absence. Funny, he’d spent most of his life without her, but after a few days together in Coslos, he didn’t know how to live without her.

  At the knock on the door, he opened it to reveal Jonathan, his parents’ butler. He presented a shiny pair of black leather loafers over his arm with a flourish. “Your shoes, sir.”

  “Sawyer,” he corrected, as he did every time Jonathan called him sir. They’d gone through the same routine for over twenty years. “Thank you, J.”

  “You’re welcome, sir.”

  Sawyer smiled and the twinkle in Jonathan’s eye proved he enjoyed the banter, too.

  He took the loafers that had been polished to an eye-popping sheen and slipped them on.

  “Don’t you look handsome,” his mom said, standing in the doorway.

  “Thanks, Mom, but you have to say that. You’re my mom.”

  Duke, thinking she meant him, rushed over to shower her with affection. He marveled at how his stuffy, uptight mother melted under the dog’s attention. She crouched down and let the puppy climb all over her. They’d never had pets growing up and now he was sad about that. His mother obviously loved the dog. Maybe he’d gift her with one soon.

  He’d spent the last few days at his parents’ house. He even managed to breach the gap in his relationship with his dad. They weren’t golfing buddies, yet, but they were getting there. It’d helped that he’d been on the news constantly for saving the president’s granddaughter. His father was slowly forgiving him for choosing a different career path. He was glad they were mending their relationship because if all went as planned tonight, he might be asking his dad for a job.

  His mom stood with Duke happily nuzzled in her arms. Amazing. “Yes, I’m your mother, but I mean it, Sawyer. Harlow doesn’t stand a chance. You look just like your father did thirty years ago.”

  At one time, he’d have hated the comparison, but with the tentative truce, he’d accept the compliment as his mother intended. “You look beautiful, Mom.” He leaned down and brushed a kiss against her flawless cheek. Duke tried to get in on the action, swiping his tongue and she laughed. His parents purchased tickets to attend the showing and she was dressed in a floor-length blue gown that flattered her eyes. Her hair was swept up into some kind of twist. She looked elegant and years younger than her fifty-five years.

  He’d told her all about his plans to ask Harlow to marry him, but he hadn’t said anything about the possibility of moving back to the city. He didn’t want to get her hopes up. She’d been overjoyed with the possibility of him marrying. He knew part of it was the alliance with the most powerful family in the US. But his mother was genuinely happy he’d found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

  He’d also had dinner with Harlow’s parents, who were in town to attend her showing. He’d been intimidated walking into the restaurant, and it wasn’t because they were both influential politicians, but because they were the parents of the woman he loved. He worried for nothing. They had been warm and kind. He was sure it helped that he’d had a
part in saving both of their daughters. But he genuinely liked them and thought they felt the same way. They’d both given him their approval. That meant so much.

  He’d rented a limo and when Jonathan let him know it was here, he hugged his mother and kissed her cheek, picked up Duke and headed to his destiny.

  #

  Harlow hadn’t smiled or shook hands so much and her show was only a half-hour old. She’d had requests for magazine interviews after the show and photos, too. Her parents were there, and though her grandparents had wanted to come, they knew they’d be a distraction and take away from her day. She was disappointed, but she understood.

  Her eyes kept straying to the door. Even though Sawyer told her he couldn’t come, she held out hope that he would. Her eyes widened and she rushed over.

  “Taylor!”

  She hugged her friend, who looked amazing in a black dress that if she wasn’t mistaken, was Dolce & Gabbana. Her breath caught in her throat at Dante, the second handsomest man she’d ever met. He was the poster boy for tall, dark and handsome. She looked over her shoulder, hoping to see tall, blond and handsome, but they were alone. She tried not to let the disappointment show on her face and focused on her friend. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

  “We wanted to surprise you. And,” she looked at her husband, who smiled at her adoringly. A pang of longing punched her in the gut. She wanted a man to look at her like that…like she was his whole world. Not just any man. Sawyer. Taylor took a deep breath, “We’re expecting.”

  Harlow laughed and hugged her friends. “Congratulations!”

  “Thanks. We’ve known for a few weeks but we were waiting to tell anyone until we were sure everything was okay.”

  Harlow grabbed her hands. “Is it?”

  Taylor nodded, tears shimmering in her eyes. “Perfect. We’re celebrating with a night at the Waldorf.”

  “Harlow.” Cherise was standing with a group of people and she waved her over.

  “Duty calls. Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”