SEAN: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 3)

by Glenna Sinclair

  “Shit, right,” she said. “How much?”

  “I’m e-mailing you the invoice now,” he said.

  “Sure, let me give you a call back once I look it over. Thanks, Carter.”

  After hanging up, she set her cell on the bed and slid her laptop over.

  As soon as she opened her e-mail, Taylor shifted up in bed.

  “Is everything okay?”

  She touched eyes with him then clicked on Carter’s e-mail and opened the invoice. As soon as she saw the amount, she knew everything was not okay.

  “Just some billing stuff,” she said distractedly, as she tried to recall her savings account balance. Frustrated, she realized it wouldn’t matter. She didn’t even have a fraction of what Madison needed. “We’re constantly in the red.”

  Taylor neared her and ran his hand down the length of her back.

  “Is there anything I can do?” he asked.

  She smirked with an edge of skepticism. “You’re going to fund my effort to destroy you?”

  He grinned and kissed her cheek. “A good fight is a fair one.”

  Pulling the laptop towards him, he scrolled through the bank transfer instructions, logged into his account, and within minutes sent the payment. All the while, Rose looked on, strangely touched by his eagerness to help, which was entirely at odds with his refusal to be on her side against the pipeline project.

  He closed her laptop and leaned on his elbow, naked from head to toe.

  “Ready for round two?” he asked with a crooked smile.

  “One World has a meeting tonight,” she said regretfully. “As soon as a few of my team members get back from the city.”

  “Come here,” he said, as he rolled to his back, inviting her to be held. When she settled in beside him, draping her arm over his chest and hooking her leg over his, he asked, “When will your meeting be over?”

  “It’s hard to say.”

  “Can I have a limo waiting for you?”

  She laughed. “That sounds highly conspicuous. The last thing I need is for my team to find out about this.”

  “Likewise, but I’d like to see you.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  He stroked her hair and they lay in silence for a few minutes.

  It felt so good nuzzling into the crook of his neck and feeling his warm hand brush over her body. She was drifting off, but didn’t let herself slip away into sleep.

  “What’s Krylotech Industries?” he asked in a dozing voice.

  “That’s the vendor whose bill you paid,” she said, stiffening.

  He let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, I got that. But what do they do for you?”

  She didn’t want to have to say but wasn’t sure how to dance around it. Taylor would know soon enough. How troubling was this secret relationship of theirs? She wanted nothing more than to get closer to him, and yet she knew she was his greatest enemy, and he was hers.

  “It's a lab. They test samples for us.”

  “Soil?”

  “Sometimes. Sometimes water. Sometimes dying vegetation or dead wildlife. Whatever we think can prove environmental harm.”

  “So what did you take from Starlight to test?”

  Rose eased up on her elbow so she could meet his gaze.

  “We found barrels full of chemicals,” she said.

  He furrowed his brow, listening.

  “Davey Construction uses combustion to weld the pipe segments together, and the chemical is their accelerant. It’s supposed to burn off and harden, splitting the chemical compounds as it fuses the pipes together. That’s why it’s unregulated. Davey has argued that once it’s heated up, it dissipates and vanishes. But it doesn’t. It leaches into the soil. Even if Starlight doesn’t suffer an oil spill, which is unlikely, according to statistics, those chemicals used by Davey are just as bad.”

  “Look, Rose, I see how important this is to you, and I commend you for your tenacity, but I spoke with my father. I’ve looked at our safety reports. There’s no connection between those chemicals and the health of communities living near other Starlight pipelines.”

  She bolted upright, gaping at him.

  “There’s no documented connection,” she pointed out. “What do you think I’m working my ass off to accomplish here? I’m exposing all of this. Why is it so hard for you to believe me?”

  He sounded genuine as he said, “I don’t know.”

  She sighed. “I need to get dressed. You should go.”

  “I want to see you later,” he said, sitting upright and glancing around for his boxers.

  When he found them at the foot of the bed and began pulling them up, she asked, “What are we doing?”

  He stared at her, and for a long time neither of them spoke.

  “I want to say we’re being impulsive, but it feels like more than that,” he said. “Give me a call when you’re out of your meeting.”

  She nodded and found her bra and panties, and they dressed in silence, at times feeling for each other, kissing and lingering as if they sensed they might not have a moment like this ever again. Soon Rose was peering through the blinds and indicating he could make a quick go for his car.

  Chapter Eight

  One World gathered their gear at Rose’s instructions and drove off through the dark night towards the Starlight Energy trench. Carter killed the headlights on his Jeep as they drove the final mile down the dusty, rural road that ran parallel to the trench.

  “We’ll take pictures of everything,” Rose stated to the entire team that was now standing one hundred yards from the trench. Ronnie climbed out of the cube truck they’d rented to load the barrels into. “And remember, we’re not stealing. This is a peaceful demonstration to prevent them from using this particular chemical, which we now know is deadly.” She made a point to touch eyes with every member of her team, then added, “As soon as we’re in position, I’ll tell Ronnie on the walkie-talkie. The second he backs the truck to the barrels, we'll use the dollies to move them up the ramp. Do not attempt to roll the barrels on their sides. The chemical is highly toxic, and if the lids come off and it spills, it’ll be impossible to clean, not to mention you definitely do not want to get this stuff on your hands or skin. Stay aware, everyone. Okay, go!”

  All twelve of them jogged off towards the trench, Carter and Layla leading the pack and Rose bringing up the rear, adjusting the dial on her walkie-talkie as she went.

  Soon her team began lifting and maneuvering the barrels on the dollies. There were seven barrels and three dollies. Working together, they got the first six barrels accounted for, and Rose called Ronnie over on the walkie-talkie.

  Lurching through the dark night, the truck crept towards them, and Rose’s heart raced in response. The construction site was quiet, almost too quiet, and she didn’t trust it. But soon Ronnie was backing the truck up. He threw it into park, climbing out.

  Standing guard with her hand on the last barrel, Rose locked her gaze on Ronnie as he hoisted the truck ramp out. She was so focused, readying the last barrel for when a dolly would become free, that she didn’t notice a construction worker stalking up behind her until he grabbed her by the arm.

  Confused, she jerked back to get free, and at the same time gripped the barrel for balance. She fell, anyway, taking the chemical barrel down with her.

  The second she hit the ground, the barrel bounced next to her, jostling the lid off, and a cascade of toxic chemicals poured over her, scalding her arm and neck and saturating her hair as she screamed.

  “Rose!” Carter rushed to her, Layla at his heels, and helped her up, but getting to her feet was impossible. Every inch of her was burning.

  “Serves you right!” barked the construction worker. “I’m calling the police.”

  “Call an ambulance,” Layla ordered, panicking as she worked to clear away the green liquid from Rose’s skin with a smock.

  It felt like an eternity passed before she heard the whine of ambulance sirens in the distance. As soon as medi
cs helped her onto a gurney and rolled her into the back of the ambulance, shouting questions at her that she was too disoriented and in pain to answer, she realized she was shouting the same thing over and over.

  “I can't see!”

  "Try to stay calm," said Layla, who was seated beside her and holding her hand as medics worked to clean her skin and administer an IV.

  "We're going to need the burn unit!" One of them shouted to the driver. Then he asked Layla, "What is this stuff?"

  Scrambling, Layla squeezed Rose's hand and desperately searched her memory for the chemical names she'd seen on Madison's preliminary report. "Benzene, toluene, and ethylbenzene," she rushed to say, "but there could've been more."

  "Christ, that was at a pipeline construction site?" he asked, dumbfounded. The look on his face told her he was as against the pipeline as all the residents of Bellevue, and Layla had no response but to grimace.

  The ambulance swung into the Bellevue Mercy Hospital parking lot and came to screeching halt at the entrance to the ER. As soon as the driver threw the ambulance into park, he jumped out and briefed a team of nurses who were running and opening the rear doors.

  For Rose, trying not to panic was an exercise in abandoning all rationale. Her eyes had been burning the entire ride, even though she'd kept them pinched shut, but now that the medic had cleared her skin of the chemical liquid, she experimented with cracking her eyes open. All she could see was black.

  She sensed the medics swing her gurney into an operating room and a swarm of nurses surrounded her. As soon as they did, Layla's hand slipped out of hers and she heard herself whimper.

  "I'm still here!" Layla said, shouting over the nurses who were ushering in a top surgeon from the burn unit. But soon Rose heard a nurse force Layla out of the room.

  "It's imperative we keep this area sterile," she explained, and though Layla objected, Rose heard her shuffling back and then the sound of the door clicking shut.

  "Rose Cole," said a man, who she assumed was the doctor, "we're going to have to put you under." She felt a plastic mask come over her mouth and nose, and felt a thin flow of gas fill her lungs. "Count backwards from thirty."

  Terrified that if she lost consciousness she might not wake up, but knowing she had no choice except to do as instructed, she began counting. She was under before she could get to twenty, and the last cohesive thought she had was of Taylor. She wished he was here with her, but the prospect of him seeing her in this state gave her a terrible sinking feeling.

  It could've been hours. It could've been days. She had no concept of how long she'd been under. All Rose knew when she regained consciousness was that a thick band of gauze was wrapping her eyes, and because of it, she could see nothing.

  She took a sharp breath and realized she was seated upright in a hospital bed.

  "Rose!" said Layla, shuffling across the tiled floor and taking her hand.

  "We're both here," said Carter, whose large hand touched her shoulder.

  "What happened?" she asked. "Why are my eyes wrapped like this?"

  Their hesitation to answer told Rose the reason would be a bad one.

  "Let me get your doctor," said Layla, giving her hand a little squeeze before she padded out of the recovery room.

  "The last thing I remember," she began, angling her head towards where she believed Carter was standing beside her bed, "was falling with the chemical barrel as that man grabbed me."

  "You probably blocked it out," he said in a gentle voice, though it boomed through the small room. "You were in a lot of pain. The chemical got in your eyes, in your hair, and down the left side of your neck and shoulder."

  "Meaning what, Carter?" she asked in a tone that cracked.

  He sighed, unwilling to be the bearer of bad news. "Your doctor will be here soon."

  She drew in a carefully measured breath to steady her emotions, then heard the door creak open and soft-soled shoes tap across the floor that were followed by a second set, then a third.

  "I'll tell her."

  She recognized the voice. It was Taylor.

  "Rose, it's me," he said, taking her hand. "I'm here with your doctor, Kenneth Greenblatt, who is the head of the burn unit."

  "Burn unit? The chemicals burned me?"

  Taylor held her hand tighter, and she sensed him leaning in. Then he whispered, "I should've believed you. I'm so sorry."

  "Just tell me what's happened," she said impatiently, though she tried to keep her tone steady and strong. "Why are my eyes wrapped?"

  "Because…" Trailing off, his voice hitched in his throat, but he forced the words out. "You're blind."

  Chapter Nine

  “Blind?” Rose couldn’t fathom the magnitude of what she was hearing, and yet it resonated the deep sense of dread that had been forming in the pit of her stomach. “Permanently?”

  Taylor’s hand felt warm and strong as he laced his fingers with hers, holding her firmly. It seemed to be his way of responding, as though words would be too small, insignificant, and unable to cut to the core of this life-changing event that no one could’ve seen coming.

  “It looks that way,” he said finally, but his timber waned, giving Rose an indication that he’d directed his response to her doctor, who had yet to address the prognosis.

  “We’re going to have to take it day by day, Rose,” he said finally, nearing the foot of her hospital bed, while Layla fidgeted beside Carter on the other side of her bed. “The chemicals scalded your retinas in both eyes. We had the best doctors working, but our primary concern was preventing chemical burns across your skin, which would’ve killed you. After flushing your eyes with H2O solution, we had to focus on saving your life, and unfortunately that was at the expense of your sight.”

  “Please,” she interrupted. “Please just explain to me what taking this one day at a time means, because right now I’m latching onto a silver lining, and you’ve got to tell me if there is one, or if I’m being hopelessly optimistic.”

  Dr. Greenblatt was quick to say, “There is one. But when it comes to your eyes you’ve got a long, uphill battle. First we must monitor the progress of your healing. Then we’ll focus on rebuilding what we can. We won’t know if permanent blindness is the fact of the matter for weeks or perhaps months. But at that time you’ll have options.”

  “What options could I possibly have if I’m truly blind?” she demanded, her voice hitching with emotion in her throat.

  “It’s possible,” Taylor interjected so that Dr. Greenblatt wouldn’t be able to muddy the waters with medical terms. “We could put you on the donor list for an eye transplant.”

  “However, finding a match,” Dr. Greenblatt went on, “could be a long and arduous process.”

  Holding herself together, Rose felt tears sting her eyes and her lip began quivering. “My work is my life,” she stated with such resolve she almost didn’t recognize her own voice. “How am I supposed to work? How am I supposed to lead One World through our mission?”

  Carter stepped up to her bed and took hold of her free hand. “You’ll delegate. Layla and I will be your eyes and ears and we won’t give up. We have all the more reason to fight.”

  Swallowing hard, touched at his unwavering determination, Rose also sensed a billow of tension rise between the men on either side of her, Taylor stiffening in her grasp and Carter growing hard as stone. She could picture the tremendous black man glaring at the handsome billionaire who had so easily swept her into a whirlwind romance. The thought sent a fresh wave of dread through her chest. Would she ever see Taylor’s face again? Would it matter to her one way or the other? If not for Taylor—his stubbornness, his brushing the hazards of the Starlight Energy Project under the rug—would she be in this position? She was torn. It was hard to wade through the drudgery to find an answer. Was he responsible? If he hadn’t been at the helm of Starlight, surely his father would have been. There was always someone to fight and always an environmental hazard to shut down. Could she blame Taylor? Should sh
e? Once again her head and her heart were entirely at odds, and Rose was so consumed by the dilemma, she didn’t realize she’d tuned her doctor out until she caught him saying “inpatient care.”

  “I’m sorry,” she interrupted. “How long am I supposed to be cooped up in here?”

  “If we can get you on the donor list,” Dr. Greenblatt explained, “then it would make the most sense to keep you here until your surgery.”

  “But you just said that finding a match could take a very long time,” she objected.

  Taylor spoke up, though she could hear the apprehension in his voice. “With my medical background, I could easily make you very comfortable at the Escala.”

  “She’s not going to accept your help,” Carter snapped, rising to his feet as if to intimidate the billionaire. “What the hell are you even doing here? The gall.” The exasperation in his tone was palpable. “You did this to her, and now you want to swoop in and control her recovery? You think that’s going to prevent a lawsuit, because it won’t. Rose, the only silver lining of this situation, if there is one, is that your injuries from the chemical spill is all we need to not only shut down Starlight, but to have this bastard arrested.”

  Taylor sprang to his feet, his voice booming across the bed at Carter. “I didn’t do this to her. I’d never hurt her or anyone. If you and your group hadn’t trespassed, this wouldn’t have happened—”

  “To Rose, but it could’ve happened to anyone at that site, including your own men,” Carter asserted. “Including you, for Christ’s sake. How blind are you?”

  Rose cringed at the term. No one was blinder than she. And she feared it wasn’t merely the state of her eyes or the predicament she found herself in, but perhaps who she’d been right up until the accident. She’d been so drawn to Taylor that she was blind to the risks. She’d been so determined to shut down Starlight by any means necessary, she didn’t see the she was putting herself in harm’s way. For one brief and shining moment, she felt grateful this hadn’t happened to Layla or Carter or any of the others, but it was a small consolation.