“I’m sorry,” she said.
He stopped to look at her, and he seemed to wrestle with several emotions. Confusion, anger, pain. “Don’t worry about him anymore, okay? Let’s just focus on getting you better.
She wiped her tears off her cheek with a hand. “Yeah, okay.”
“I’ve convinced the staff to let me take you to a private rehab center in Malibu.”
She blinked. “California?”
“There’s only one Malibu.”
“Can we afford that?”
He shook his head. “Don’t you worry about that. You just concentrate on getting better.”
She couldn’t help but feel sad. Some of it was due to self-pity, but it was more about the loss she knew was coming. Not because she was essentially giving up the pills, but because she knew that to truly be done with the addiction, she would have to lay Eva-Ann and John permanently in their graves.
“When I was in a coma, I lived her life,” she whispered. Something inside her needed to say the eulogy now, before she had to completely lay them to rest. “I know I did because I know everything about her. Every thought. Every feeling. Her father saved the life of Jedidiah Byron’s daughter, and for thanks, Jedidiah gave her father the Recovery mine. He didn’t want it. Was terrified of being boss. And the men who worked it were jealous. Especially one man named Monty Finleigh.”
“Evie, stop.”
“If I didn’t experience her life, then tell me how I know all these things. Her favorite color, her hopes and dreams. Her love for John.” She placed her hands over her eyes. “How could I still have these feelings for him? For a man I’ve never met?”
“Evie—”
She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him. “I’ve been trying to remember more. It’s why I took the sleeping pills. Why I had to keep uping the dosage. I just had to figure out what happened to me.”
“You mean to her. To Eva-Ann.”
She blinked. “Right. To her. But I know now I can’t go on like this anymore. I realize that. I think I’ve realized that for a while. I just didn’t want to admit it.”
For a long time, Chris simply stared at her, but she didn’t have anything more to say. She was drained. It was over. As she cried silently, she felt Chris rise, kiss her forehead, and leave her room.
****
Bishop laid his arms across the top boxing rope as he watched the two men inside dance around each other. This was the third gym he’d visited in search of the next fighter for Sherman Groto to sponsor, but so far he hadn’t like any particular person.
All day he’d tried hard not to think of Evie. Tried to lose himself among the bare-knuckle training surrounding him instead of remembering what her thighs felt like as they pressed against his face. Her taste, her scent, all the tiny little moans that drove him wild. He wanted more. One taste of her wasn’t nearly enough.
As he watched the two fighters dance around the ring, another man came up beside him. Bishop didn’t need to turn around to realize it was his boss. It didn’t surprise him that Groto knew where to find him. The man had informants all over the city.
“He’s telegraphing his attacks,” Groto said, watching the match.
“Yeah,” Bishop muttered. He knew exactly which fighter his boss meant. “And his reaction time is slow. Given enough punch-kick combos, I think he’ll crack under pressure.”
“I agree.”
Bishop turned his back on the fight, and thus came face to face with his boss. The hard edge and unsmiling face gave more away then it hid. Sherman Groto was still ticked off with him.
“Have you thought about your allegiance to me?” Groto asked. “Is your preoccupation with Miss Duncan over?”
Annoyance flashed through Bishop. He had the strangest urge to smash Grotto’s face in, until the bastard couldn’t remember what Evelyn Duncan looked like. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest.
“I’ve worked with you for twelve years and I’ve never seen you react like this to a woman before. Like she’s some type of threat to you.”
“If you don’t think that Miss Duncan isn’t the most dangerous woman in my world then you are vastly mistaken.”
“It’s because I kissed her, isn’t it? You stated before you can’t trust me now. You think I’m not loyal to you.” He shook his head. “After all we’ve gone through together … after all I’ve gone through … I don’t understand how you could possibly think that.”
“And what if I ordered you to kill her?”
Bishop froze. He studied Groto’s hard expression, trying to determine if the man was joking or testing him, but he was completely unreadable.
“I thought you liked Miss Duncan,” he said, trying to stall.
“And I thought after twelve years, you wouldn’t hesitate to obey one of my commands.” One fighter hit the boxing ring floor with a mighty thud. Groto glanced at them and shook his head. “Keep looking for a new fighter.”
“Is that my job now?” Bishop asked. “Finding a replacement?”
It was a loaded question and one look at Groto’s face confirmed that he understood the double meaning.
“I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.” Groto gave him a tight smile. Then he turned on his heel and walked away as a wake of bystanders stared after him.
For the first time in his life, Bishop felt fear, and what was even stranger was that it wasn’t for himself, but for Evie. Perhaps she was the most dangerous woman in the world, or at least in Groto’s world. He felt like he balanced on a tightrope. Take the wrong step and he was going down. For twelve years he always asked how high when Grotto told him to jump, so standing on the precipice of falling out of that favor shook him to his core. Yet there was another sense of urgency gripping him, and before he even realized what he was doing, he hurried out the back door to his car. Even as he raced toward her house, Bishop wondered what the hell he was doing.
How the fuck did she get under my skin so deeply?
The lights weren’t on at the house, which meant either she or her brother Chris weren’t home. Had she obtained more pills and now lay in a drug-induced sleep? He wasn’t sure what to do. Did he wait in the car? Did he barge in there and shake her the hell awake? As he ran a frustrated hand over his hair, a moving shadow caught his attention. He narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the movement, and saw a large form crouch behind a tree. Groto’s words came back to haunt him, and Bishop didn’t even need to guess who it was and what he’d been ordered to do. Anger ignited through him, burning out the hesitation and any lingering loyalty he had toward Sherman Groto. The man might have saved his life once upon a time, but he now knew that he never had his trust. He’d never been a partner. All he’d been was one more lackey in Groto’s empire, and his time was almost up. The signs had been pointing in that direction for some time, ever since he’d stepped out of the ring. Masters had once told him that as long as he made money for Sherman Groto, Bishop would be the most important man in his eye, but as soon as he stopped pulling in the cash, he’d better watch his back. Masters’s death had never sat well with him, and now, seeing his own threads unraveling between him and Groto, he suddenly had clarification. An epiphany blinded brighter than anything else, and he knew if he continued on the current path, he would be heading into the same grave as Masters.
Bishop exited his car and went wide, skirting around Evie and Chris’s house, moving through the darkness. He kept his eye on his target, letting his fury rise to the surface with every step he took. Twelve years of bowing down to a man who cared about no one, whose only god was the money lining his pockets. Bitterness left a bad taste in his mouth, but it was his own damn fault. Did he really expect to mean more to the man? He’d seen Masters’s decline first hand. How had he not realized his own fate would be the same?
Perhaps he had known. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself.
Those were self-reflections he’d have to analyze later, because right then he had another situation to take care of as he si
lently glided up behind Santiago. The other man didn’t even have time to realize what was happening as Bishop snaked his arm around the other man’s neck and locked it tightly in place. Santiago tried to fight, but Bishop brought him down, kneeling him on his back as he applied more pressure. After a minute, the man’s desperate jerky movements began to slow. As soon as his limbs fell limp, Bishop let go of him and pushed to a standing position. A branch snapped and he spun around only to see Chris standing there, wide eyed.
“Did you kill him?” Chris asked.
“No. I thought about it but figured we didn’t need that kind of shit right now. I just choked him out. When he comes to, the first place he’ll head is directly back to Groto, who will then send men to kill Evelyn and then me, and finally for good measure, and to leave no loose ends, you.”
Chris shook his head, obviously confused. “But why? What did Evie do to him?”
“Because she got under my skin.” Bishop looked around, trying to see Evie. “Is she with you?”
“No, she’s in the hospital.”
Bishop couldn’t even describe the feeling that flashed through him, a combination of fear and concern. He grabbed Chris’s shirt, ready to haul him up and interrogate him, when Chris raised his hands.
“It’s okay, she’s recovering from withdrawal.”
That made Bishop pause, and a second later, he let Chris go. “What happened?”
“I found her on the bathroom floor this morning and called nine-one-one. She knows she needs to detox and get off the shit and she’s willing to go into rehab.”
“Is she okay?”
“Yeah, I think so. But what about this?” He gestured to the still unconscious Santiago laying at their feet.
Bishop thought for a second. “Where’s rehab?”
“Malibu, California. I have her enrolled in a place called The Cove. I thought it would be best to get her out of Vegas, go someplace that doesn’t remind her of the accident.”
Relief surged through Bishop because he was glad a plan was in place, one that was far better than what he could’ve come up with in just a few minutes.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Chris held back and Bishop raised an eyebrow, waiting. Chris shook his head. “Go get Evie from the hospital. Let me pack a few things, and then I’ll follow after you.”
“Pack up?” Bishop asked, a bit incredulous. “What do you possibly have that’s worth your life? You need to get out of here too, Chris.”
“I will,” Chris assured him. “Evie is at Sun Horizon Memorial, room three-twelve in the east tower.”
Bishop looked from him to Santiago’s unconscious body, and back again. He wanted to ask more questions about what Chris had to do, but he learned early in life that sometimes it was best not to dig too deep. Instead, he pulled out his phone from his front pocket and held it up.
“Do you have a smartphone?” he asked Chris.
“Of course.”
“Good. We’re switching phones.”
Chris cocked his head. “Why?”
“Because you’re going to drive my car and I’m going to take yours.”
“Come again?”
“I don’t want to drive an electric car through the desert when I’m pretty sure there’s not a supercharging station along the way. Teslas don’t have keys. You use the app to start the car.”
Chris frowned. “Wait. If I take your car, then how do I get to LA? I’m going to have to recharge, right?”
Bishop reached in his back pocket and took out his wallet. He grabbed a few hundred-dollar bills and held them out Chris.
“You keep four hundred dollars in cash in your wallet?” Chris asked, shocked.
“No, I keep about six hundred, but this should get you a flight out of here. Meet us in Malibu.”
Chris took the cash. “Yeah. Okay, freakin’ rich guy. Just take care of Evie.”
Bishop smirked. “I will.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Good evening, Doctor Lee.”
The smallish Doctor Lee, who walked beside Bishop, gave a nervous little smile to the security guard. As soon as Bishop had heard which hospital Evie had been taken to, he knew the exact man to help him break her out.
“Hello,” Doctor Lee said. “I’m just visiting a patient. This is one of my interns.”
He pointed to Bishop and the guard stared him down, and while he didn’t have a doubt that he could physically take down the older, overweight man wearing a fake police badge, stealing a patient out of a hospital wasn’t as easy as it looked in the movies. Hence the reason why he’d called up someone who owed Groto’s casino a lot of money.
“You’ll tell Mr. Groto I helped you, right?” the doctor muttered under his breath as he flashed his hospital identification.
“Yep,” Bishop replied. The guard gave him a once over but nodded to the doctor.
They left the security booth behind and headed toward the elevators.
“You think Groto will reduce some of my debt?”
Bishop impatiently hit the recall button. “Does it matter?”
“What?”
He shot the doctor an annoyed look. “You’ll be down at the casino as soon as possible, gambling away more money you probably don’t have, which will prompt you to take out another line of credit from the house. So does it really matter if Groto reduces your debt?”
Doctor Lee lowered his chin and shifted his gaze away.
“Yeah, I thought so,” Bishop said as they stepped into the car. He pushed the button for the third floor. “Just help me get my friend out of here and then go gamble to your heart’s content.”
“I can’t help myself,” the doctor mumbled under his breath.
Bishop ignored him. Moments later her walked into Evie’s darkened room. She slept on her side, with her hand curled under her chin, looking completely at peace. Only when he got closer did he notice the tight lines bracketing her mouth, and the bruise that discolored her cheek. That wasn’t from falling down or vomiting over a toilet. The mark clearly showed that someone had punched her. Rage boiled through him, and his hands curled uselessly into fists. His first thought was that Groto had gotten to her, and that Chris had withheld this information. Deliberately? That was a question he would ask the next time he saw her brother.
Reining back his emotions, he leaned over her and gently shook her shoulder. “Evelyn, wake up.”
Her eyes opened immediately and they locked gazes. He didn’t see surprise in the dark depths, as if she had been waiting for him to show up.
“Bishop?”
“We have to go.”
She opened her mouth, as if she wanted to question him further, but he guessed she thought better and closed it before giving a nod.
“How?”
He lowered the bed railing and helped her sit up. She wore a misshapen gown and he grabbed the plastic bag on the end table that held her clothes.
“I have someone distracting the nurses. We’re gonna walk out of here.”
As he pulled out her folded clothes, she held out her arm.
“Can you take out the IV?”
He looked at her wrist and that was when he spotted more bruises encircling her forearm. Once again, rage filled him.
“Fuck,” he muttered, running a finger over the mottled skin. “Who did this to you?”
“I know you want answers,” she said, frowning. “But these bruises woke me up, so wait until we’re out of here before we go down that road.”
He took a deep breath and then focused on where the IV went into her arm. “This is new territory for me.”
He gently raised all the tape, and then slid the needle out in one steady motion.
“Easy peasy,” she said blandly.
He threw her a dark glower before she swept the gown off to pull on her t-shirt. The momentary flash of breasts rendered him speechless and made his dick rock-hard. He mentally berated his libido for having an erection at what had to be one of her most v
ulnerable times.
After she slipped on her shoes, Bishop took hold of her hand, peeked out down the hallway, and heard Doctor Lee chatting up the nurses at their station. Then he causally left Evie’s room, with her right behind him, strolling nonchalantly down the hallway and to the elevators.
****
Evie rested her head back and stared at Bishop as he drove them out of the hospital parking lot. He seemed a little different, more focused on looking in the rearview mirror than paying attention to her, but that only made her realize something bad must happened. Something was off.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Groto threatened you.”
She raised her eyebrows. “It must have been some threat.”
He spared her a quick glance. “Ordered me to kill you in a roundabout way, then had a man staked out at your house when I refused. I managed to subdue him.”
“That makes no sense,” she said. “What did I do to him?”
“That is the monumental question, isn’t it? Your brother asked the same question.”
“Is Chris okay? Why are you driving his car?”
“He’s fine. He’s going to meet us in Malibu. I have his car because I don’t want to run out of charge in mine.”
She frowned. “So you’re taking me to the rehab center?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Why? You don’t want to go?”
She sighed. “Of course not, but I know I have to.”
He fell silent for a moment. “And your bruises?”
Shame filled her. “I-I wanted to purchase more sleeping pills, only I didn’t have the money. So he, ah, wanted payment out in trade.”
She saw his knuckles tighten on the steering wheel.
“Who is this walking dead man?” he demanded.
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it fucking matters!”
“Craig Brogan.”
“Never heard of him.”
“He works with Chris at the casino.”
“Then he’s fucking fired and I’m going to fucking kill him.”
She couldn’t help but smile at his deadly tone. Perhaps it should’ve scared her, or intimidated her, but she knew the anger wasn’t directed toward her, and it made her feel special. In a weird way, it comforted her. She had no problem with Craig being hurt, so perhaps that was a defect in her own psyche.
Recover Me Page 9
