“I love you,” she heard him whisper. She kept up the pretense of being asleep and it was only when she heard his snores that she opened her eyes and stared at him.
I hate you. I hate you, and if I get the chance, believe me, Lucian, I will kill you.
Tara lit one cigarette after another, sitting out on her balcony. Norah Reddy was alive and Lucian—god, the stupid fucker actually believed he would have a happy-ever-after with her. Jesus.
Tara had been fretting all day, ever since the FBI had come to see her. She had no doubt that Giacomo had sent them to her. They had asked her questions about Lucian and their affair. Did she have any contact with him?
She’d given a command performance. Luckily, after the last call with Lucian, she’d dumped the burner phone she used to talk to him. God bless the sense that had made her use one in the first place. If the FBI had gotten hold of that, they would have found not only Lucian’s number but the hitman she’d hired to kill Carmel Price. Fuck, what a mess. She should have told her contact to kill Norah a long time ago,. Then none of this would be happening. Damn you, Lucian.
If she could just find him then she would end Norah herself—and Lucian. Make it look like a murder-suicide. She allowed herself a fantasy of that for a second, then pushed it away. Lucian was wise to her; he wouldn’t ever tell her where he had Norah.
So …what to do? She sat, lost in her thoughts when it came to her. She could have laughed out loud. So simple. Deflect and protect.
Tara picked up her phone and called her agent.
They had decided to meet at The Anthology, and use it as a base. Fred, her distress at Norah’s abduction making her unusually subdued, brought them all coffee from the place a block away. Zulika hugged her. “Are you okay?”
Fred shook her head. “I want to kill him, Zul, with my bare hands. The fucking wanker.”
Zulika nodded. “There’s a pretty big queue.”
Fred lowered her voice. “How’s Giacomo doing? He looks terrible ...for him, anyway.”
“Not good.” Zulika sighed. “I knew he loved Norah …but even I didn’t realize how much. If she …doesn’t come back, I don’t think he’ll survive it.”
She suddenly felt a wave of light-headedness come over her and she swayed. Fred gently steered her into a chair. “Have you slept at all?”
“Not much.” Zulika had to admit she felt wiped out and Fred frowned at her.
“Dude, you’ve been sick. You have to pace yourself. Here, have some of this.” Fred handed her a hip flask and Zulika grinned.
“Seriously?”
Fred snickered. “It’s just orange juice, I swear. You need the sugar hit.”
Giacomo and Orlando came in. Zulika noticed Giacomo didn’t look at the floor where Norah’s blood had stained it. Her heart ached for him.
“I’m just frustrated,” he was saying to Orlando. “It’s as if they’ve disappeared off of the face of the earth.”
Fred was switching the big-screen T.V.. on—it was an automatic thing now. She hit the mute button so they wouldn’t have to hear about nothing new over and over.
Giacomo’s phone rang. “Yeah?” He listened for a while, the others silently waiting for him, then he gave a frustrated sigh. “Well, okay, take the net wider. Yeah, Fresno. Anywhere you can think. What? What about her?”
They watched as his expression changed from frustrated to angry. “You have to be kidding me. Which channel?”
Fred, reading his mind, handed him the T.V. remote and he flicked over. “Okay, I got it. I’ll call you back.”
They all watched as Tara stood at a podium. Giacomo turned the sound up. “As a friend of Mr. Conti’s, and of late, of Ms. Reddy’s, I do feel it is my job to advocate for them. Please, if you have any idea on Norah Reddy’s whereabouts, please get in contact with the police. Her life could depend on your information.”
“What the actual fuck?” Zulika was on her feet, but Giacomo held up his hand.
“Wait.”
They watched as Tara, dressed in a conservative navy dress with a white Pilgrim collar, looked down as if she were trying to control her emotions. When she looked up into the camera, there were tears in her eyes. “I have to confess something. I feel it is my fault that this has happened.” She drew in a long breath. “Almost a year ago, when I was engaged to Mr. Conti, I had an affair with a man called Lucian Hargity. Yes, the suspect. I don’t know what I was thinking. I have regretted it ever since, but Lucian, if you are watching, please. Don’t punish Norah for my mistake. Please …bring her home. Thank you.”
Giacomo was frozen in disbelief. Zulika put a hand on his arm. “You and Tara were engaged?”
He gave a strange laugh. “No. At no time.”
Orlando made a disgusted noise. “What the fuck is she playing at?”
“She’s making it all about her,” Giacomo said in a flat voice. “Cazzo cagna …”
Zulika looked between the two men. “Will it help or hinder the case?”
“I don’t know which way. If she pisses Lucian off …god.”
Giacomo was grim-faced. “If Norah dies, I’ll make Tara’s life a living hell.”
Norah could feel herself fading. The pain in her stomach—really her whole body now—was keeping her awake, and no matter how many aspirins she took, it wasn’t getting better. Lucian was beginning to notice. “You still got cramps?”
She nodded. She figured if she told him she was badly hurt, he would kill her rather than take her to the hospital.
Three days. Three days since she’d been taken, but it felt like a lifetime. Her mind was foggy and when she looked into the little mirror in the bathroom, she barely recognized herself. Her usually golden skin was a sickly yellow and there were huge dark circles under her eyes.
Now she was feeling so sick that she lay down voluntarily on the bed to sleep and closed her eyes. Sleep evaded her, but when Lucian suddenly cursed loudly at the television, she sat up and took notice.
She watched in disbelief as Tara performed for the cameras. Lucian was angry. He looked around at Norah. “Can you believe this bitch?”
She couldn’t help the words as they shot back at him, “Well, you fucked her. Surely you would have known exactly what she was like?”
For a moment, she thought he was going to lose it and regretted her words. Her body couldn’t take another attack. But then, to her surprise, he looked shamefaced.
“I don’t know what I was thinking, Norah. She can’t hold a candle to you.”
Norah felt tears in her eyes. Don’t feel badly for him, you crazy woman. She looked away. “Doesn’t matter anymore.”
She lay back down and closed her eyes, but the hot tears flooded through them anyway. Lucian obviously saw her shoulders shaking because he was at her side in a flash. He uncuffed her hand from the bed frame and cradled her in his arms.
Norah didn’t know how any coherent thought got through to her—all she could think was lLet him hold you. This is your chance to convince him, to get his guard down. She didn’t fight him as he held her against his chest.
They stayed like that for nearly an hour before Lucian’s phone rang. He let her go and sat up, sighing.
“What do you want, Tara?”
Norah was suddenly desperate for a pee, so she pointed at herself and then the bathroom. Distracted, Lucian nodded and waved his hand. Norah walked slowly, as if her brain wasn’t working at a hundred miles an hour. She peed, then as she was washing her hands, she listened to Lucian arguing with Tara.
Lucian cursed at Tara. “What the hell was that farce on the television? You think I won’t tell them about you? About what you did to that lawyer?”
Tara laughed. “Fuck you, Lucian. I told you to kill that whore and you not-so-politely declined. These are the consequences. One thing …just thought you should know …I know where you are.”
Lucian ended the call, cursing and banging on the bathroom door. “Norah, come on. We have to go.”
There was no a
nswer. Shit, was she okay? She hadn’t been looking so hot. Lucian banged again. “Norah? Baby, you okay?”
When she didn’t answer, he opened the door to find …nothing. What the fuck?
He yanked the door wider and he saw her. He saw her in the final second before the towel rail she was holding crashed down on his skull and knocked him senseless.
Norah didn’t waste a second. She dropped the towel rail and ran. The motel room door was locked, but she knew that if she hunted for the key, Lucian might wake up and then she’d be a dead woman.
She picked up a chair and threw it through the window. It smashed into a thousand pieces and she crawled through the hole, ignoring the glass which cut into her skin. And then she was out.
“Hey!” She heard someone shout behind her, but ignored him. If it was the manager, Lucian’s buddy, she knew he wouldn’t help her.
She ran barefoot across the rain-soaked parking lot and into a clump of trees. She found herself in a small campground. An unattended tent sat nearby, and without thinking, she darted in, looked around for anything she could use—a cell phone or a weapon. Nothing. A small torch was all she could see and she swiped it and headed out again.
The motel had been halfway up a small mountain and now Norah pushed forward through the thick trees, ignoring the searing agony of her body and the harsh ground on her bare feet. The adrenaline carried her through as she ran—ran from her certain death. All she could think of was getting back to Giacomo.
She couldn’t tell if it was her imagination, the adrenalin coursing through her, or the fear, but the sounds of pursuit were all she could hear. The rush of the trees and the brush around her as she ran, stumbling in the near full dark. The tiny torch bobbed and weaved, barely helping her at all. She fell, her body slamming against the ground and her ribs against a tree stump, agonizing pain shooting through her. The torch flew from her grip. She lay still, listening. She hadn’t imagined it. She could hear his breathing close, so close. A twig snapped less than a foot from where she lay. Then she heard it—the whisper.
Norah, Norah, Norah …
The urge to scream was overwhelming, but she didn’t move, even closing her eyes in case what little light there was caught them. The world stopped turning.
Then he was gone. For a second, Norah couldn’t believe it, but then she scrambled to her feet, panting with terror. In a few minutes, she scrambled out onto the road and saw a Chevy truck. She ran toward it, but saw the cabin was empty. She tugged on the door and it opened. With a choked laugh of delight, she saw the keys were in the ignition.
Somehow she managed to put her foot down, screeching away from the mountain and away from Lucian. Her mind couldn’t process the fact she was still alive and her flight instinct took over, not caring if she was speeding or weaving all over the road. She prayed that a cop car would come along, that she would be stopped—even arrested. At least she would be safe. Now that the energy from the escape was leaving her, the pain returned and she moaned as she fought off the lightheadedness. She had no idea where she was, so she just kept driving until she began to see road signs.
Fresno. She almost burst into tears, so relieved she was still in her home state. I’m coming home, Giacomo …
But the pain was getting worse and she desperately tried to fight off the dark spots encroaching on her vision. She heard the sudden screech of a police cruiser’s sirens and then the tears did come.
Thank you, thank you.
She pulled the truck over and got out just as the deputy approached her. “Ma’am, are you okay? Ma’am?”
Finally knowing she was safe, Norah did the only thing she could and collapsed, unconscious, into the deputy’s arms.
Giacomo was out driving around, as was his normal night now. He knew it was pointless and that he’d never find her like this, but he had to do something. The rain was getting heavier, though, and visibility was poor. He drove around for an hour or two, then went home. The apartment rang with emptiness—with the ghost of her. Every room seemed to remind him of something about her, about them, and about the two of them being so in love. The kitchen where they would cook together after work, or try some new cordon bleu recipe on the weekend, to varying degrees of success. The living room—a place of comfort, of relaxation, and very often the place where their lovemaking would begin before moving to the bedroom.
He closed his eyes, imagining her here with him now, her gentle touch, her fingertips tracing down his cheek, and her soft lips against his. The feel of her slender body under his and her legs around his waist. That moment when his rock-hard cock would push into her velvety cunt and she would sigh with happiness.
Norah …Norah …
He was jolted out of his reverie by both his phone ringing and his head of security knocking furiously, then, not waiting for for permission to enter, bursting in. Giacomo stood, his phone to his ear as the man nodded at him. Adrenaline coursed through his body. His security man nodded, smiling broadly.
“They’ve found her.”
Zulika’s breath was coming in short gasps as she, Orlando, and Fred raced through the hospital corridors. As they turned into the relative’s room, she saw Giacomo, his head in his hands, and her heart nearly failed. But then he looked up and smiled, and she saw genuine relief and joy in his eyes. He hugged her.
“She’s going to be okay. She’s in surgery at the moment, but the doctor’s say she should be fine.”
Zulika could feel the tension in Giacomo’s body. “What aren’t you telling us, Jack?”
“Sit down, all of you, and I’ll tell you.”
Zulika kept a hold of his hand and Giacomo squeezed it. “He beat her. Badly. The docs say she has a splenic injury and she’s been bleeding internally for a couple of days. Luckily, it wasn’t a huge rupture, or she’d be gone. They’re doing a repair now. The rest of her injuries are still horrific, but they’ll heal.”
“Have you seen her?”
Giacomo shook his head. “Not yet. They had to take her straight into theater. She escaped …she got free herself. She had to steal a car, but a police cruiser stopped her. Once they realized who she was, they rushed her to hospital. She’s back, Zul. She came back to us.”
Zulika burst into tears and Giacomo laughed softly. “That was my reaction when my head of security told me. I think I might have freaked him out.”
Orlando hugged his best friend and grinned. “That’ll do it every time. God, brother, I’m so happy for you. For us all.”
Giacomo nodded. “The police don’t really know much yet. She wasn’t in the condition to tell them. Except for one name. Lucian.”
“Well, we kind of guessed.”
“Yeah.”
“How long will she be in surgery?”
Giacomo shook his head. “I don’t know. I just know I can’t wait to see her.”
Norah opened her eyes and for a moment, all she could feel was relief that the pain had gone away. Her body felt heavy though, and as she moved, her muscles protested. She sighed and she heard a chair move. Then he was there, her beautiful love, and he was all she could see.
“Il mio prezioso,” Giacomo’s smile was so full of love that Norah felt all the tension in her body leech away.
“Giacomo…ti amo.”
His lips found hers, but it was a gentle kiss—a tender kiss. “Thank you for coming back to me, my beautiful Norah.”
She felt his tears on her cheeks and her fingers stroked his dark curls. “Always, my love, always.”
There didn’t seem a need for words, not for the moment. Norah wrapped her arms around his neck, and Giacomo half-sat, half-lay with her. Neither of them saw Zulika look around the door, smile, and quietly back out, closing the door to give them the privacy they deserved.
Lucian, his head screeching with pain, was on the run. He had stolen his manager’s buddy’s car and headed north, trying to get to Oregon. He almost made it.
Tara and her henchmen caught up with him at the border. He’d risked che
cking into a cheap motel under a false name, but one of the staff there recognized him, and at dinner at the adjoining diner that night, had mouthed-off to one of her friends that she was going to call the police on him and get a reward. Unluckily for her—and Lucian—one of the detectives Tara had hired was sitting in the next boot.
Lucian stood underneath the shower for a long time, washing away the blood that had turned his hair red and thinking of the moment Norah had knocked him out. When he’d come around, saw the broken window, and realized she was gone, he’d given a howl of rag andpanic. He’d plunged into the forest, knowing she had only one way down the mountain and, for a brief time, thought he had seen her in front of him. He stopped and listened for breaking foliage and heavy breathing. He whispered her name, hoping that if she was hiding nearby it would freak her out enough for her to blow her own cover.
Nothing. Norah was gone. He knew Tara would be even more apoplectic that he’d kept Norah alive and then lost her. Plus, the police would be on his ass. Fuck. How the hell did it get to this?
He finished his shower and dressed in the thrift store fatigues he’d stolen earlier that day. Attempted murder, kidnapping, actual bodily harm, burglary, theft …they were going to throw the goddamn book at him. He had just sat down on the bed and flicked the television on when the door was kicked in.
Tara’s men grabbed Lucian and shoved him against the wall. Tara herself followed them in, her eyes cold, her beauty icy and terrifying.
“You stupid fuck,” she said. “You’ve found every way to fuck up my life, your life, and everyone’s life. You should have killed Norah when I told you to.”
Lucian wasn’t stupid. He knew there was only one way this was going to go down, so he had nothing left to lose. “Fuck you, cunt.”
Her smile was chilly. “You did that, remember? Not that it was memorable—ever. Seriously, Lucian, I have to know. How did you ever, ever think Norah would come back to you? She would leave Giacomo Conti for you?”
His Beautiful Revenge: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Page 15
