Dr. Orgasm (A Holiday Romance Collection Book 2)

by Michelle Love

  “How’s Tommaso about that?” Olly shrugged when she gave him a meaningful glance. “I just know what it’s like to lose you, is all.”

  “No one is losing anyone anymore,” she said determinedly.

  She had no idea just how wrong she was …

  Tyler Sardee arrived back at SeaTac and hailed a cab, eager now to see his daughter. And her fiancé, he thought to himself with a smile. Maybe things were finally going to be good. He hadn’t called ahead, wanting to surprise them. It was already late, and he wondered if he should get a hotel room for the night. He decided he would and went into the city first, before heading out to see if he could grab something quick to eat.

  He wandered down to the waterfront and ate some hot chowder. Afterwards he wandered along the piers until it got very late. He was about to walk back to his hotel, when he saw a familiar face.

  “Hey … hey, how are you doing?” His smile spread across his face.

  He was still smiling when his throat was slashed open and he was pushed into the dark, freezing waters of Elliott Bay.

  Inca hugged Olly goodbye; she saw her friend give Raffaelo a friendly wave as she got into the car.

  “How was it?” Raffaelo kissed her softly.

  “Great. Really great. He sent you congratulations—and, he said, the dumbass, commiserations, because he knows how much trouble I am,” she chuckled. And Raffaelo laughed.

  “You’re glowing,” he said, smiling, and she nodded.

  “I’m with you,” she said simply.

  At home, the house was quiet and they went straight to their room. Desire pulsed through Inca’s body and Raffaelo took her hand and led her to the bed. He slid his hands under her T-shirt and pulled it off, kissing from her neck down to her belly. Inca gasped under his touch, waves of pleasure shuddering through her. She kissed him, her longing for him all consuming.

  Inca pulled her phone out to call Tyler—but when someone else answered, her heart froze as she listened to them and realized the nightmare wasn’t over.

  Olly’s eyes widened in horror as Inca burst through the door of the police station, breathless, tears pouring down her face.

  “What the hell?”

  Inca interrupted him. “Tyler is missing. He’s been missing for days. He didn’t tell anyone he was coming to see me in Seattle so they didn’t know to inform Missing Persons here. Olly … oh my God …”

  She was shaking badly, her distress making Olly’s chest hurt. He made her sit down, calmed her, and took her trembling hands in his.

  “Okay, sweetheart, just breathe. Knox?”

  His deputy had come in to see what the commotion was. Olly quickly filled him in. Knox nodded. “I’ll get on it … Inca, you okay?”

  She nodded, unable to speak. Olly hugged her as she calmed down.

  “Please not my dad, Olly. Not my dad.”

  “It’s okay, darlin’. We’ll check it out. It may be nothing. He may be just …” He faltered when he saw the disbelief on her face. “Yeah, okay.”

  Knox came back into the room. “Tyler got off a plane at Sea-Tac the evening of the fifth that’s the day you and Olly had dinner, right?”

  Inca nodded, her face drawn. “Yes. God, Knox. Olly …”

  She was trembling so violently that Olly put his arms around her and nodded to Knox, mouthing something at him.

  He left the room and Inca sighed. “Olly, if anything has happened to him, I don’t think I can handle it. I can’t handle …”

  “Ssh, ssh, ssh.” Olly held her as she sobbed.

  After a few minutes, Inca dried her eyes. “Who is doing this, Olly? Who hates me so much?”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart, but we don’t know what ‘this’ is yet, so let’s be positive.”

  Exhausted, Inca leaned against him. “I don’t know. I just … hope he’s still alive, still okay. I couldn’t bear it if another person died because of me.” But she couldn’t finish. Olly wrapped his arms around her, but his face was serious.

  “Listen to me, Inca Sardee. You listen good now. You are not responsible for everyone. You can’t save everyone. People make their own decisions. Your mom did when she killed your dad. Luna shot Scarlett and you—that was her decision. Tyler, wherever he is, made the decision to fly here. You are only responsible for the choices you make. I know it will take time, but you need to start now, today.”

  “Start what?”

  “Stop blaming yourself for everything.” They both turned to see both Raffaelo and Tommaso in the doorway and Inca realized Knox must have called them. Olly released her and she went into Raffaelo’s arms.

  The police search for Tyler went on for days. They found his luggage in the hotel in Seattle and traced his credit card to a waterfront restaurant. Blood was found at one end of one of the piers. Inca let the police into her parents’ home and waited while they went over it with a fine-tooth comb.

  Raffaelo was with her, his presence comforting, but when the police were finished, she turned to him.

  “Baby … can I ask a favor?”

  He touched her face. “Anything.”

  She drew in a deep breath. “In my heart … I know he’s gone. I know it. And I’d like to … be alone with them for a while. Do you mind?”

  “Of course not. Just promise me you’ll stay locked inside? Call me when you want me to come pick you up?”

  “I promise.”

  Inca watched Raffaelo drive away and now she was alone for the first time in … she didn’t know how long. She had thought it would good to have the house to herself, to breathe, to think.

  She walked through the house now, lingering in each room, trying to find the peace she craved. It didn’t come.

  Ghosts of the living and of the dead hung about the rooms. Inca realized that it hadn’t ever been her home, it had been their home, hers and Nancy and Tyler’s. And now that they were gone, and any connection she felt to it was broken.

  She went into the kitchen to fix herself some tea, splashing her face with cold water while she waited for the water to boil. She reached for the towel to wipe her face, her fingers knocking against the chalkboard that hung next to it on the wall. She scrubbed her face dry as the kettle began to whistle. She turned to fill her cup, then froze. Her breath caught in her throat.

  A photograph she’d never seen before dropped from behind the chalkboard. Nancy, Tyler, and herself—it must have been on her birthday last year. Scarlett had photobombed them, and Luna and Olly were at the edges of the group.

  A year. Just a year.

  Inca took the photo and sat on the floor of her parent’s kitchen. Once again, she went over and over everything that had happened, looking for a clue that might tell her why. It was a weird sort of comfort that she could take some responsibility for Kevin’s attempt on her life, at least. But Nancy had been murdered after he had already been arrested. Luna, having admitted killing Scarlett, couldn’t have done it. So, who? Who hated her that much?

  When Olly had been acting crazy, she had wondered if it could be him— Tommaso taking that restraining order out might have tipped him over the edge. But now? No. No way.

  She went upstairs to her old room and lay down on the comforter. They hadn’t changed it much since she’d left—some of her old books and paintings were still on the shelves and walls. But it felt like a stranger’s room, another life, a million years ago.

  She had no more tears to cry and soon, she fell into an uneasy sleep, wrapped in the comforter. She didn’t hear the intruder slip quietly through the back door, thanks to the tricky lock, and pad quietly up the stairs.

  He’d seen the bastard billionaire drive away and couldn’t believe it. He’d left her alone? Jesus …

  But he wasn’t prepared for the kill. He had it all planned and now wasn’t the time … but he couldn’t waste an opportunity to be near her. So, he waited until he saw her go upstairs and gave it another ten minutes. He figured, when she didn’t come back down, that she had gone to sleep. So, he broke in; h
e knew of old that the back door was tricky, and crept upstairs. She was in bed, asleep.

  “Inca?” His voice was a whisper. She murmured. He pulled out the hypodermic he always carried, regretting not bringing his knife with him, and slipped the needle into her neck. She moaned as he pressed the plunger. “Sleep, my darling.”

  He waited until he heard her breathing deepen, becoming steady. He stripped down, took the knife from his pocket, and lay down beside her. He drew the tip of the blade over her skin, imagining pushing it deep into her, feeling her hot, sticky blood pulse over his skin as she bled out, the look of terror in her eyes as he murdered her, terror and resignation at his betrayal. The blood roared in his ears and he felt his heart quicken.

  Soon. But not tonight. He was hard. He dropped the knife, slipped on a condom, and began to masturbate, stifling his grunts, burying his face in her hair. When he came, he dreamed of holding her ruined body as the life went from her eyes and her last breath sighed from her perfect lips.

  Raffaelo sat in silence, waiting for Tommaso. The bar wasn’t busy; there were just a few customers drifting in and out. Raffaelo felt antsy. He wanted to see Inca; a day away from her made him nervous. The TV was on behind the bar, the sound muted. Raffaelo stared at it, watching news reports, reading the headlines running across the bottom of the screen. A drug-related shooting in the city, a building collapse, a body being pulled from the dark water of Elliott Bay. He leaned over and turned the sound up.

  “The body has been badly mauled by marine life, but the police were able to tell us that the victim was a man in his eighties and that his death is suspicious. Further details are expected to be released later today after a full autopsy.”

  “That’s what I came to tell you.”

  Olly’s voice made Raffaelo both start and, as he turned to him, he could see the strain on his face. Raffaelo’s heart began to thump heavily against his ribs and he knew what Olly was going to say before he said it.

  “It’s Tyler.”

  Raffaelo stood, his gaze intent on the cop, and Olly nodded.

  “King Country confirmed it to me just now. Raff …” Olly’s voice was low but urgent. “We need to get to Inca. Now.”

  Raffaelo was already out the door before he’d finished his sentence.

  The funeral was a sad repeat of Nancy’s, except, this time, Raffaelo stayed with Inca as her father’s coffin was brought in. She hadn’t slept since the night Raffaelo had come for and she’d opened the door, seen his face, and knew.

  She hadn’t cried. Numb was the only emotion she felt now. After Tyler’s coffin was lowered into the ground, she turned and walked away before the pastor had even finished his prayer. She kept walking and walking until she reached the road. She knew Raffaelo, and probably Tommaso and Olly, would be following her, but she didn’t care. Nothing mattered.

  She stopped and let out a howl of complete rage, grief, and frustration. “Come and get me, motherfucker! Come on! I’m right here! Fucking kill me and let’s get this done!”

  She went on screaming and cursing until her voice gave out. When Raffaelo wrapped his arms around her, she struggled, but he wouldn’t let her go and eventually she cracked, sobbing in his arms.

  Raffaelo closed the bedroom door and went down to the study. Most of the furniture had been covered or taken to storage now in preparation for their move back to Italy and only a skeleton staff remained to tend to the Winters and their guest.

  Tommaso was waiting for his brother. “How is she?”

  Raffaelo looked exhausted. “The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

  Tommaso nodded. “You’re right. Raff … I didn’t want to tell you before, what with the funeral and everything, but I have some news.”

  Raffaelo rubbed his eyes. “Not more bad news, please.”

  Tommaso chuckled softly. “No. Not exactly … it’s just that …when you and Inca move to Sorrento … I won’t be coming with you.”

  Raffaelo’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

  Tommaso smiled. “It’s time we lived our own lives, now, Raff. This past year, loving the same woman—although I’ll never, ever regret one day—well, after the crap with Dad, I think I realized, I have to move on. Find my own Inca. She gave me a beautiful glimpse of what could be. I’m looking forward to finding out what the future holds.”

  Raffaelo got up and hugged his brother tightly. “Don’t go too far.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  They made plans to travel back to Italy at the end of the week. Inca told Raffaelo she wanted some time with Olly and Knox before they left. She still couldn’t believe they were the only ones left. So much death, so much sorrow.

  Olly opened the door and Inca saw he was wearing pain-spattered overalls. He looked sober and even, Inca couldn’t believe it, relaxed. He held up a brush.

  “Painting the living room. Come on in.”

  She followed him into the kitchen and studied him as he made coffee.

  “You look remarkably chipper.”

  He grinned, and he looked like the Olly she’d loved and adored for more than half her life. “Chipper? Make sure you drink your coffee with your little finger out if you’re going to come around here using them posh words.”

  She giggled. “Loser. Seriously, though, I mean it.”

  He shrugged, flushing in embarrassment. “Took some time off. I needed this time to get my head right. Sort out my priorities. Let other things go.” He gave a small laugh. “It’s been good. I’ve been … regrouping.”

  Inca said nothing, sipping her coffee. Olly’s overalls were spattered with green paint and she nodded at them. “Suits you. How’s things with the Whirling Derp-bitch?”

  Olly had told her, hesitantly, that he’d ‘sorta, kinda’ been dating Belinda Clements. Inca’s reaction had been unexpected; she’d burst into peals of laughter and told him to “have at it, but, boy, am I going to make you suffer for it.”

  Olly snickered, but tried to look disapproving. “All right.” His smile faded. “How’s things at home?”

  Inca sighed to herself. She could see behind the question. She spoke carefully when she replied. “I’m getting there, Olly. It’ll take some time.”

  “It will. Look, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing. A new start. I hate to admit it, but I like your Raffaelo. He’s a good man.”

  Inca grinned. “Still not keen on Tommaso, then?”

  Olly laughed. “He’s okay too.”

  Inca smiled, but then her face become serious. “You know, you’ll always be welcome in Italy. For however long.”

  Olly nodded. “You’re sweet, but I think it’s time for me to build my own new life.”

  Inca raised her glass to him. “Here’s to a new life.”

  Later, Knox came to pick her up and they decided to get pizza and go back to his place. Raffaelo would pick her up at eight, but Inca glanced at the weather with concern. Another winter storm was coming in and the snow was getting really heavy. She and Knox talked and ate, but she couldn’t help being a little nervous about Raffaelo in the snow. She kept looking at her watch.

  After the fourth time that Inca glanced at the clock, Knox grinned. “He said he’d be here at eight and he’ll be here at eight.”

  She grinned. “Sorry. It’s just … finally we get to be happy, and it would just our luck if the weather … well, you know.”

  Knox rubbed her shoulder but said nothing. Inca smiled at him, then frowned when she noticed he wasn’t looking at her.

  “What is it? What’s up?”

  Knox sighed. “Oh, you know … I just wish I had what you and Raffaelo have. What Raffaelo has.”

  Inca swallowed, embarrassed by the compliment. “Knox …”

  “You look really beautiful tonight, Inca.”

  Inca glanced down at herself—a simple white T-shirt, admittedly a little skintight, and old tattered jeans. She looked at him, askance. “You need your eyes tested.”

  Knox’s
face was red and he threw back the rest of his drink. “Sorry.” He got up and went to the kitchen. Inca hesitated for a moment. She hated to see him like this, shy, embarrassed. “Knox?”

  “I’m good, Inca, really. I’ll be out in a sec.” His voice seemed normal.

  She shrugged and glanced again at the clock. Raffaelo would be in here in five minutes. God, she hated herself for saying it but she hoped Knox would go—she wanted Raffaelo all to herself tonight.

  Knox came back, handing her a soda. She waved the T remote. “Wanna watch some crap?”

  He smiled. “Sure thing.”

  Inca flicked through the stations until she found a comedy show. She grinned and turned to him. “Knox, I …”

  Knox, calmly but forcefully, slammed his fist into her temple and everything went dark.

  Raffaelo couldn’t wait any longer—he wanted Inca to have her time with her friends, but the snow was turning into a blizzard now and he had no intention of sleeping apart from her tonight. He left a note to tell Tommaso where he was going, then got into his car.

  The storm was bad. By the time he got into town, it was hard to see out of the windshield.

  Raffaelo knocked on Knox Westerwick’s front door and waited. Strange. No answer. He knocked again. “Knox? Inca?” Nothing.

  His heart began to pound. He went to the window and looked in; there was nobody there, but something caught his eye. A smashed bottle … and blood. Not much, but drops of it on the floor. Raffaelo cussed and went back to the door, kicking it in easily. He dashed into the living room and stopped, terror screeching into his veins. There was more blood on the floor. Raffaelo grabbed it and turned—and his heart stopped.

  In blood … Inca’s? … scrawled across the wall were written six words:

  You’ll never see her alive again.

  Everything fell into place. Knox. Knox Westerwick, the easy-going cop, the flirt. Everybody’s buddy. As Raffaelo raced out of the house and into the snow, towards Olly’s house, he could only think one thing.