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Hidden Danger

Page 12

by Amy Patrick


  Chapter Seventeen

  You May Kiss the Bride

  Once we were both completely styled, the action moved outside where the parade had gotten underway. It was crazy, but I guessed that’s what they wanted. The concept of the ad campaign was to capture the excitement and magic of the event and encourage people—shoppers—to see the romantic side of the holiday season.

  It was hard to achieve a romantic vibe with Culley refusing to even look my direction whenever the cameras weren’t rolling. But I did my best to get through the shoot, vowing nothing would keep me from speaking with him alone once it was over.

  When the cameras were rolling, we did our best to fake happy coupledom, but Culley’s eyes never met mine. He appeared to be looking at my ear during any shot that was supposed to be a romantic gaze.

  “Come on, people, we’re in love here,” complained the director. “Show me something before the jolly fat man makes his appearance. Why am I paying a freaking fortune for this?” she asked her assistants who shook their heads in that Don’t ask me way.

  Culley shot a brief, murderous glare in her direction, then finally looked directly at me.

  Let’s get this over with, okay?

  I nodded. What was his problem? A few days ago he’d been perfectly content to be in a cramped car with me, to share a hotel room. Now he apparently considered it too much of a hassle to even be near me.

  Following the director’s instructions, Culley and I laughed and held hands as we watched the parade. I leaned my head on his shoulder in a contented way.

  “Now touch her cheek,” the director said.

  Culley lightly placed his fingers on my jaw and turned my face to meet his gaze. And this time his eyes locked onto mine. The look in them nearly stopped my heart. It was stunning, paralyzing. He looked like he wanted to carry me off somewhere far from the parade and keep me there a long, long time. My heart did start beating again, but now at a blistering pace. Either he’d suddenly developed some major acting chops, or this guy wanted me. He was impossible to figure out.

  “Good. Cut. Re-set cameras,” the director barked. “It’s time for the money shot.”

  I stood off to the side, my legs wobbly and my breathing erratic as I waited for them to make everything ready for the proposal scene.

  We stepped back into frame, and the director said, “Action.”

  As the colorful floats and costumed performers passed behind us, Culley dropped to one knee and pulled the velvet box from his pocket. I covered my mouth with one hand and acted surprised, and he opened the box to reveal the ring.

  There was no dialogue in this ad. Instead, Culley raised his brows in a questioning way, and I nodded vigorously with tears in my eyes, smiling hugely. Then he stood and swept me up in a tight, joyous hug of celebration.

  “Better,” the director yelled. “Much better. But the script calls for a kiss. We’re not trying to get friends to buy rings here—the target audience is lovers. No hugs.”

  Once more we played out the proposal and acceptance. Culley rose, lifted me to my toes, and this time he kissed me.

  And kissed me.

  And kissed me.

  If he was acting, call the Oscar committee, because wow. I felt his kiss in every molecule of my body. By the time it ended, I was trembling all over, barely aware of the music and crowd and film crew.

  When we pulled apart, I stared at him, unable to tear my gaze away from his fierce blue eyes. There was something new in them, a question, a longing. I wasn’t sure what was happening. He hadn’t let me go yet.

  The director laughed out loud. “Cut. Cut. Before he eats her alive.” She laughed again. “When you turn it on Mr. Rune, you really turn it on. That’s a wrap.”

  Culley released me. Without a word, he spun on his heel and walked away, pushing through the thick crowd. What the hell?

  “Santa’s coming,” a young boy squealed, and the kids around me started jumping, making it more difficult to follow my “fiancé,” who was apparently intent on escaping.

  “Culley wait,” I called to his back. “Wait for me. I want to talk to you.”

  He stopped and turned back around, wearing a stern expression that was nearly a frown. “What?”

  I reached him and looked up into his shuttered gaze. What was going on inside that crazy-beautiful head of his? He avoided me for days, kissed me silly, looked at me like he never wanted me out of his sight, and now he was running away?

  “We need to talk. Can we go somewhere...” I glanced around at the mad scene. “...quieter?”

  “We can talk at home... later.” He twisted and tried to walk away again.

  My hand caught his arm, stopping him. He turned back to me.

  “No,” I said. “Because I know what’s going to happen—you won’t come home. You’re avoiding me. Why?”

  For a moment he stared intensely into my eyes, and then he glanced away. “Did you have something to say to me, Ava? Because if not, I have to go.”

  Ava. He’d called me Ava. Not “Angel.” Not “love.”

  “Culley.” I blew out a frustrated breath. If he wouldn’t talk to me, at least he was listening. I had to tell him what his father was up to, and this might be my only chance. I couldn’t leave town with no explanation, and I couldn’t let him go on thinking his father was anything but what he was—a monster.

  “I had a conversation with Audun this morning.”

  His gaze whipped back to me. “About what?”

  “He asked me to speak to a police detective who’s investigating the S epidemic—you know, the drug? S?”

  His lips tightened. “Yes, I’ve heard of it.”

  “Audun told me to erase the detective’s files and his memories. He wants the drug to flourish and the addiction to spread. He’s behind it, Culley. He admitted it to me.”

  “And?”

  “And... I can’t do it. I can’t be a part of his evil plans anymore. Did you know earlier this week he forced me to make an assault case against a pop star go away? The victim was fourteen. Fourteen. I can’t do it anymore. And it doesn’t even matter if he tracks me down and has me killed—I couldn’t live with myself if I kept doing this stuff anyway. I’m leaving. I’m leaving New York tonight.” I paused. “I want you to come with me.”

  The longing in Culley’s eyes was real—I knew it was. And yet the words that came out of his mouth denied it. “I can’t leave. My place is here. So is yours. How were you planning to go, by the way? You have no car.”

  “I... I don’t know. I’ll take the bus or something.” I hadn’t really thought out the how part. The why part I had down. “You can’t stay here, Culley. You don’t want to be involved in a drug ring. You’re not like your father.”

  His arms folded across his chest. “How do you know? Maybe I’m exactly like him.”

  “You’re not. I believe you have a good heart. All he cares about is power, at any cost. He has to be stopped—at the very least you need to get away from him to protect yourself. And why would you stay? He’s been a terrible father—you told me that. Come with me. If you stay here you could be in danger because you lied to him about us... somehow.”

  His face swam with pain. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple moving down his throat in a rapid jerk. “You wouldn’t even ask me to go... if you really knew me.”

  The quiet words stunned me. It took me a moment to recover. I took one of his big hands in both of mine. “Culley. Look at me.”

  Reluctantly, he brought his eyes to meet mine.

  “You’re wrong. I do know you—”

  He shook his head. “You don’t. No one does. You’d hate me if you knew the things I’ve done.”

  “Do you think I’m perfect? No—you know better. Everyone’s done something they’re ashamed of, but it’s not too late. I like the part of you I do know. And it could be even more. I think I could fall in love with you, Culley, in time. But you have to let me in. You don’t want to spend your life alone. And I can’t spend my life
with an image, with a facade. You have to let me see the real you—all of you.” I hesitated before going further. But it was now or never for us. “Show me what you really look like,” I challenged.

  His eyes widened then went hard as ice. “If I... let you see me, all of me... I’ll lose you.”

  “Culley... you’re going to lose me if you don’t.”

  He lifted his other hand to join it with mine. We stood there for several moments, his eyes on our locked fingers. The indecision in the air was as palpable as one of the oversized balloons bobbing down the avenue.

  Finally Culley spoke. “Where’s the ring you used to wear?” His thumb rubbed over my bare finger. “The one with the Elven phrase for—”

  “I lost it. It... fell off.” At some point I’d tell him that I had—for some reason I could not explain myself—given my father’s ring to Asher. This was not the time, though.

  Culley’s gaze lifted to mine, and he studied my face with an expression of sorrow and something else—disappointment?

  “You know, Angel, you don’t let me see the real you, either,” he whispered.

  “Ava!” A voice in the distance called my name. At first I assumed it was some parent searching for a child of the same name who’d wandered away in the post-parade exodus. But then I heard it again, stronger, and the voice was familiar.

  “Ava.”

  I whirled around, and my eyes searched the crowd for—

  “Asher,” I gasped. “Oh my God. What is he doing here?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Real Me

  “That’s what I’d like to know.” Culley stepped in front of me and strode forward to meet Asher’s approaching figure. “A bit far from the farm, aren’t you mate?”

  Asher ignored Culley completely, side-stepping him to get to me.

  “Ava,” he said again, beaming. He grabbed me in a bear hug and swung me around. “Oh man are you a sight. I can’t believe I found you in this crowd—I’ve never seen so many people in my whole life. I spotted the film crew, and one of the techs told me you’d gone this way.”

  When he set me down again, I fell back a step and stared at him, hardly able to believe my eyes. He was such a contrast to the residents of the city I’d been immersed in for the past week. Wearing his ever-present boots and jeans with a t-shirt, his only nod to the Northern climate was a brown leather jacket that hung open to reveal his wide chest and lean torso.

  “How did you... what are you...”

  “I went by your modeling agency when I got to town yesterday and asked if they might know how I could get in touch with you. The lady at the desk was real nice.” He winked and flashed that mind-bending smile of his, and I knew exactly how he’d managed to get information out of the nice lady at the desk. No doubt it was the same “nice” lady who hardly said two words to me and the other female models whenever we were there. But could I blame her? Asher’s smile would melt even the iciest of Manhattan receptionists. She’d probably tried to talk him into sitting for some shirtless portraits while he was there, too, so she could save them for her personal use.

  “She said she couldn’t tell me where you lived, but she did mention you’d be here shooting a commercial today,” he explained. “And here you are.”

  I nodded, feeling dazed. “And here you are. Aren’t you supposed to be in school or something?”

  “Thanksgiving break. I thought it was about time to see the world north of Virginia.” He paused for effect. “And I came to bring you home.”

  I blinked. Blinked again. “What?”

  “Ryann mentioned you might be in need of some transportation back to Deep River. Big Red’s parked in a garage a couple blocks over. Can you believe they charge fifty dollars for an hour of parking here?”

  “Asher... I don’t know what to say... I...”

  “So, I guess you won’t be needing that bus after all,” Culley quipped. “Or me for that matter.”

  I turned away from Asher’s beautiful smile to see Culley’s equally beautiful scowl. He was not happy to see the human boy here. That was obvious. But then he did the strangest thing. He stepped forward and gave Asher a friendly back-slap. And a tight smile.

  “I suggest you two get on the road before all these tourists do. I would imagine you don’t have much experience navigating city traffic. Take 34th here to 495. It’s your fastest route to 95 South. Although you’ll probably want to stop by and pick up her things first. They’re at my apartment—Ava can give you the address. You can park in the fire lane out front for about ten minutes before the doorman will report you.”

  Appearing surprised, Asher studied Culley’s face for a moment, then reading no malice or deception there, he extended his hand. “Thanks man. Appreciate you looking out for her while she was here. You ready to go, Ava?”

  My gaze bounced back and forth between them. This was all happening so fast. It was amazing to see Asher. I’d missed him more than I’d even realized. But the thought of leaving Culley behind—it seemed wrong to abandon him here. Especially now that I knew his father’s nefarious plans. No doubt he’d try to suck Culley into them. In spite of our differences, I felt a connection to him. And yet he appeared to be more than willing to hand me over to Asher.

  My heart was bouncing around in my chest like an over-hit ping pong ball on a concrete floor.

  I didn’t say I was going with him, I said to Culley mind to mind as I took a step toward him. I’m... not sure what I should do.

  He took a step backward. “You should go.”

  He was sending me away. I could hardly believe it. Tears began streaming down my face, shocking me, and from the looks of it, Culley, too. His mouth fell open, and his eyelids flared.

  I don’t think I can leave you, I told him. How could I? Culley had refused to open up to me—so far—but I had a feeling his diamond-hard façade was close to cracking. And that what was inside the tough shell would be worth the wait. What was inside was certainly too valuable to let his father destroy it.

  Culley and I held fervent eye contact for a long moment. Then the heat in his gaze frosted over, like chips of ice.

  “You want to know the real me, Angel? Fine. Here you go—my mission...” His words faltered a moment before continuing. “My mission was to retrieve something from... Lad’s home. And from the tea factory if possible.” A byproduct of the saol-making process, he continued mind to mind. Very potent stuff, that crystal powder. Highly addictive.

  S. I gasped.

  The base of the S formula, yes. Our scientists have taken it and perverted it into something else entirely. So now you see... I am like my father. I’m as instrumental as he is in the drug epidemic.

  I shook my head in disbelief. My brain was spinning like a rickety parking-lot-carnival ride. My heartbeat thrummed in my throat. “Did you know?” He couldn’t have. Culley couldn’t have willingly participated in this.

  “Know what? What he’d do with it? It doesn’t really matter, does it? I knew he couldn’t want it for a good purpose. I did what he asked, as always. And now it’s done. The snowball is rolling downhill, and nothing’s going to stop it. You should get out of here, because this entire city—every city—is going to go to shit—fast.” You haven’t seen people on S, but I have, every night, in every club I go to. It’s wicked stuff, love. “You’re not tough enough to survive what’s coming.”

  “And you are?” I choked on the words, trying to contain my sobs. I’d been worried about Culley being lured in by the seductive club drug, when all the while he was responsible for its creation. It was nearly impossible to believe, but yet the admission had come from his own mouth.

  He gave me a resolute stare. “Never doubt it, love. I am my father’s son.”

  “No,” I said aloud. “There’s one difference.” Silently I continued. You care for me. I know it. And if you can love, you can change. You can forgive yourself and move on from the mistakes you’ve made.

  He met my wet eyes evenly when he replied. “Even
if that were true, it wouldn’t matter. Good-bye Ava.” Ripping his gaze away, he turned to Asher, pinning him with a hard look. “Get her out of here. Today.”

  Asher nodded. “I will.”

  Culley strode away and within seconds had disappeared in the crowd. I sucked in a breath, trying to accept what I knew was true—I’d never see him again.

  And then I turned to the boy I’d been longing to see every day since I’d left him standing on a sidewalk in Deep River, Mississippi. “I guess we should go.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Hero Material

  Asher nosed the front of his huge pickup truck out of the garage and into the bumper to bumper traffic.

  “So, what was all that about? ‘Missions’ and stuff? I thought the guy was a model, but he was talking like a soldier or something.”

  He glanced over at me, waiting for an answer. Which I couldn’t give him.

  “Um... there are things I’m... not allowed to talk about.”

  He nodded, a rueful grin crossing his face. “Great. I’m involved with a girl whose ex is special ops. I’m totally going to get knifed in my sleep. He is still your ex, right?”

  “Yes. And you don’t have to worry about him. He made it pretty clear we had his blessing to leave town together.” Thinking of Culley’s confession and the way he’d practically shoved me into Asher’s arms caused a dull ache to spread through my chest. What was he thinking? Why was he helping his father now after telling me he’d spent his life trying to avoid him? What would happen to him if he stayed in the Dark Court?

  “That’s what he said.” Asher’s tone told me he doubted Culley’s resolve.

  Though it felt like we made it only inches every half hour, we eventually reached the highway access ramp. Which Asher ignored completely.

  “What are you doing? Route 495 is that way.”

  “Yeah I know.” He glanced over and raised one brow. “That’s why I’m going this way. No matter what he said, I don’t trust your special ops pretty boy ex-fiancé as far as I can throw him. If he says we should go 95 South, we’re going anything but that way. There’s plenty of ways to get out of this city. And once we do, we’re going to take 81 South, make our way through Maryland and Virginia and Tennessee. That is, if it’s okay with you.”

 

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