by Chloe Liese
“It could never be long enough.”
He reached for my hand, clasped it in his tightly. I tried to wrench it back, but he held tight and squeezed my bones so hard, my thumb and finger knuckles nearly kissed.
I tensed and hid my discomfort while he leaned closer.
“That is unfortunate, because I was planning on us spending quite a bit of time together. You’ve been difficult to get to…Nairne.” He shook his head. “That was quite a revelation, your real name. You would have been easier to find if you didn’t make yourself so conspicuous. But you used a different name in France. Aila. Then by the time I found you, there wasn’t a moment you weren’t smothered with men protecting you.”
I swallowed, unable to speak. I had my physical reaction solidly walled off, but my emotions were about to break through the dam. I had to think rationally. Should I give Tom my signal? Had Alexandre done something that would incriminate him at this point, simply by being here? Because that’s what I needed more than anything—him resolutely punished for his actions against me, and thrown behind bars. Since he was on foreign soil, I might have a prayer that the police would actually detain him, rather than let him off with a slap on the hand as in Paris.
So, what should I do? Perhaps I should wait for him take some criminally offensive measure? But that meant endangering myself, prolonging my exposure to his vile presence.
I knew I was being surveilled by my security. They’d catch what he’d done and if he tried to hurt me, they’d get to me in time. Sticking this out might buy my freedom. I’d let him toy with me until the orchestra packed up and the floors were being polished. Anything to erase him from my life.
When I didn’t respond he pressed on. His thumb swept over my hand while my knuckles remained crushed together. “First, you reject me that night at my club. Then you ignore me, stop coming to any of the places we mutually frequented. And then, whenever I’d find you, you’d run away. Until you disappeared.”
When he looked up, a terrifying grin broke over his face. “Then I saw you in the papers.” He ran his free hand quickly along the back of my chair, ghosting his fingers over the exposed skin of my lower back, directly over my scar. Where Zed’s touch had lit me on fire, this violation made my blood turn icy.
“I watched you. You’re so beautiful still. And you’re still meant to be mine.”
“The hell I am.”
His phone buzzed in his trousers and he flipped it open, read it. Smiling widely, he clapped it shut. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to come with me. You’ll act like we’re friends going out for some fresh air, to catch up. I know you have security here, I’m not stupid. Neither are you, bright girl. Little geneticist.” He squeezed my hand harder. “So, don’t try anything.”
I clenched my jaw at the pain radiating up my arm. “Why on earth would I go with you?”
His eyes widened in surprise and when I felt his grip slacken in response, I retracted my hand quickly from his grasp.
“You’re delusional,” I hissed. “You tried to rape me—”
“That’s a strong term. You wanted me. I could see it. But you like playing hard to get, and that Bertrand bitch kept too close an eye on you. Completely ruined it.” He shrugged. “I was merely taking what you’d offered. I don’t enjoy being toyed with.”
“No, you just take sick pleasure in toying with others,” I snarled.
He whistled quietly and shook his head. “You mustn’t speak to me like that, ma sirène. It’s not becoming.”
I gritted the words out and leaned close. “You drugged and violated me, then you made my life a living hell, and now you’ve done it again. I will never go anywhere with you. You need to forget me and your sick obsession. It’s not real—we’re nothing to each other.”
He bristled at that. “You say you don’t want me, but here you are.” His eyes scanned me. “You’re flushed and excited. You want this.”
“What I want is for you to leave me alone.”
Alexandre’s jaw ticked and his expression darkened to glacial rage. “You have no choice. We belong together.”
“I belong with the man who actually loves me.”
He smiled slowly. “Not anymore.”
My throat tightened so violently, I could barely choke out the words. “What do you mean?”
His eyes filled with a maniacal intensity that had my heart pounding. He whispered in my ear, “I’ve made sure he’s out of the way. It can be just us now.”
“What have you done?”
The evening’s host interrupted us by clapping Alexandre’s shoulder and drawing his attention reluctantly. “Mr. Dubois, I just wanted to thank you personally for the incredibly generous donation you made.”
“It’s nothing really,” Alexandre answered shortly.
The man prattled on and held his attention.
I glanced up, saw Tom watching me, then observed his features transform as he read my alarm. My eyes drifted to the east wing where Zed had left for the lavvy. Why wasn’t he back yet? What had Alexandre done?
I swiped my mobile from the table and sent Tom a quick text.
It’s him. Zed’s in danger. East wing.
I snapped my phone shut, as Alexandre began to turn my way again.
The host drew his attention back long enough for me to shove the phone quickly inside my clutch.
“I’m sorry to hear of your mother’s passing,” the host continued. “She was of course also well known for her philanthropy.”
Alexandre shrugged, betraying a kind of unemotional nonchalance that was perfectly in keeping with his true sociopathic character. “Yes, thank you. If you’ll excuse me.” He gestured toward me, his irritation evident.
The man took the hint, nodded politely, and walked away.
I sat there white knuckling my clutch, racking my brain for what to do. Tom or Marc needed to go find Zed. I had to figure out what Alexandre was going to do next and how to prove his culpability in it.
Alexandre stood up, glanced around like he was watching for signs of my security. The one place I’d been given enough space to feel free and unwatched for a night was the one occasion I wished they were hovering over me. “You want to know where your precious fellow is? Come with me, and I’ll tell you.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He shrugged. “Fine, it’s his life you’re gambling with.”
Fear exploded from the confines of my self-control and tore through my heart. My hand shot out and grasped his as my voice came out a threadbare whisper. “Please don’t hurt him.”
Alexandre stared down at me in confusion. “Oh, it’s too late for that. But if you come with me, then I won’t kill him at least.”
Zed’s life hung in the balance. And if I fucked it up now with Alexandre, Zed’s blood was on my hands.
“All right.” Slowly, I wheeled back from the table.
I made a hollow excuse to Sylvie about going outside with Alexandre to catch some fresh air, and peered around for Christophe, but he was still nowhere in sight. We made our way through the ballroom. As I maneuvered around tables to the periphery of the room where moving would be much easier, an idea came to me. I’d told Tom to search the east wing for Zed. Getting myself there, too, would make it easy for him get to me quickly.
“I need the lavatory.”
Alexandre rolled his eyes. “Please, don’t play games. I know you’re stalling for time.” He stepped closer to me and leaned down. He reeked of those disgusting cloves and an abundance of liquor. He slid his hand along my back and I involuntarily arched away from his touch. “You need to understand something, my mermaid. I am untouchable. Nothing you can do will keep me from you. So, it’s best that you simply cooperate. I’ll be happy, and your man will be…not dead.”
“If you’re so untouchable, my taking a moment to ensure I don’t piss myself shouldn’t be any trouble.”
“Very well. Then we’re leaving.” His voice came out short and harsh. He w
as getting impatient.
Right before I got to the lavatory, Alexandre stopped me. “Your clutch please.”
I turned, looking over my shoulder. “Why?”
He gestured for me to hand it over. “I’m not idiotic enough to let you take your mobile in so you can call your security and warn them about me.”
I handed it over reluctantly. Watched him click it open, ensure my phone was there, then snap it shut. I pushed the door ahead of me and maneuvered inside. I moved as fast as possible into the accessible stall and locked the door. Sat in there, while praying Tom was coming.
I couldn’t take too long without raising suspicion, but I didn’t want to leave. Here in this quiet corner I had the illusion of safety. “Come on, Tom,” I muttered. “Where are you?”
After a minute more, I straightened myself out and reluctantly left the stall. I washed my shaking hands, so he’d buy my excuse of having needed to piss. I tried to steady my breathing.
Suddenly the door banged open. “You bitch! You thought you’d fool me?” Alexandre’s voice thundered in the small space and my stomach jolted. No one else was here. I was alone with him and his rage. As he lunged my way, I recoiled and wheeled back, wishing I had anything to use as a weapon. But essentially, I was helpless. Granda would be so disappointed in me. He’d taught me a woman should never go out alone unarmed.
Thing was, tonight, I was supposed to be anything but in danger or alone. It had all gone so horribly, horribly wrong.
I feigned innocence, hoping I sounded convincing. “What are you talking about?” I cried. “I pissed, nothing more!”
“This,” he snapped, holding up my phone and flipping it open. It showed my text to Tom. Why the hell hadn’t I deleted it? “Alerting your security, were you?” he growled. He struck me across the cheek.
My head flew back, stunned, and I almost fell over sideways. I pulled myself back up as tears involuntarily welled in my eyes. “I told him that so he wouldn’t be suspicious of us. That’s why I told him about Zed, not me.” Blood pounded in my ears, and I realized there was a good chance Alexandre would seriously hurt me.
Where’s Tom? He should be here by now.
His face softened momentarily as he reached toward me. I flinched when he thumbed away the tears that had spilled onto my cheeks. “So beautiful when you cry. I’ll have to make you do it more often.” He dragged his thumb across my face and pressed hard into the bruise that was forming on my cheekbone.
I cried out at the pain and tried to pull away, but I was pinned against the counter and the back wall.
Suddenly, the door banged open and in a blur Tom tackled Alexandre’s frame to the ground. Alexandre’s head knocked into the tile with a loud smack.
“Ms. MacGregor,” Tom huffed, tying a zip tie around Alexandre’s wrists behind his back. He was out cold, thankfully. Tom ran over to me and promptly knelt down. His hands patted down my body in professional concern. “Police just arrived. Are you all right?”
I was shaking as tears poured down my face. “I’m f-fine. Where’s Zed?”
“Come with me, please, Ms. MacGregor. We need to get you to the police then home, resting.”
I yanked my arm away from him, and shouted just as I had when they wouldn’t tell me where my mam was. I felt like the four-year-old again whose heart was breaking at the words no one had the courage to tell me. “Where’s Zed?”
Tom sighed as I stared him down, rooted to the spot. “He’s being transported to St. Thomas’. Probably there by now.”
I swayed, and Tom grasped my shoulders. He glanced at the rarely used handles at the back of my chair. “May I?”
I nodded silently and bit my lip to fight the urge to scream. I tasted blood and salt.
Tom guided me out where Marc was, speaking with police officers.
“W-what happened?” My vision was getting blurry. “I feel dizzy, I need to...” I started seeing stars and felt myself collapse forward in someone’s arms.
“Shit,” Tom muttered. Marc pushed my head between my knees.
“I have her,” Marc said. “Just a little faint from the shock.”
“I got him,” Tom said. “He’s out in the loo and I need to make sure they know.”
“Good, go.” Marc’s hand was heavy across my back, and each time I tried to lift myself, he kept me down. “Please give yourself a minute, Ms. MacGregor.”
Slowly, blood rushed back to my head and the stars faded. New voices sounded down the hall. More police. Voices over radio coms. Sirens wailing and the noise of gathering attention. While Tom dealt with Alexandre, Marc squatted down and finally helped me sit up. I glanced down the hall opposite the lavatory and saw crime scene tape and a flock of law enforcement. “Marc, what happened to Zed?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. You alerted Tom, so I went looking for him based on where he’d headed. I found him down the hall from the men’s room, unconscious in a bloody broom closet.”
I grabbed Marc’s suit jacket, sure I was going to go mad because no one was answering the fundamental question. “What happened?”
Marc glanced away then back to me. “He was bleeding badly from his head, nowhere else. I saw that, and it was enough for me to know I needed to call for help. As soon as they got here, Tom radioed about where you were. That’s all I know so far.”
I slumped forward again and sobbed. This was all my fault. For having a bloody stalker in the first place. And if I’d told Zed who Alexandre was, he could have anticipated him and better protected himself. But I’d never thought in a million years Zed would be the target in all this.
“Please, Ms. MacGregor, let’s have you speak with the police so you can make your statement, then you can go home. You’re exhausted and understandably distraught. We need to get you back to your flat safely.”
My head snapped up. “Are you insane? I’m not going home! Take me to the hospital now.”
“But…” Marc began. His voice faltered as I levelled him with a determined stare. He sighed, radioing over to Tom what he was doing, and listening to Tom’s confirmation. “Dubois’s been detained for questioning, and they’re reviewing the security footage now to try to identify whoever hurt Mr. Salvatore. We’re safe to exit the premises.”
I didn’t process the sound my wheels made as they carved through expensive plush carpet, the sea of sad faces as we left, or the wail of sirens as I transferred into the car and let Marc buckle me in. All I knew was what I didn’t—whether or not the man I loved would live.
Twenty-Seven
Nairne
I woke up to a soft hand gently smoothing hair from my face.
“Nairne?”
I picked my head up off the hospital bed, feeling stiff as I craned my neck and registered Elodie, standing over me.
“I brought you some clothes, ma belle,” she whispered, squatting down next to me. “And you need to keep up your routine. Go have a shower, use the restroom and change, all right? I’ll keep an eye on him.”
I stared at her dumbly, before I turned back to Zed’s hand clasped in mine. I’d been holding it since the moment I got there.
“No thanks.” My voice was hoarse and threadbare.
Elodie’s face scrunched in worry. “Nairne, please.” She rubbed between my tense shoulder blades. “Just a few minutes. You don’t want to make yourself sick, do you? You want to be strong for him.”
I looked back over at her, knowing in some dim corner of my mind that she was right. She picked back up the pile of clothes and held them out for me. Begrudgingly, I released Zed’s limp hand from mine and dropped the clothes into my lap. I spared another glance at him and felt a sharp pain radiate in my chest.
“This is all my fault,” I whispered through tears. I had never cried this much in my life. Not even when Mam died.
“Stop.” Elodie took my face in her hands, demanding my eyes meet hers. “You must never, ever say that. If you do, then you condemn any woman who has ever endured a man’s abuse like Alexand
re’s. What he did is not your fault. I know you don’t believe that.”
I shook my head, crying softly. “No, you’re right. I-I just wish I could have protected him from this.”
My eyes sought Zed, but Elodie still held my face firmly.
“I was stupidly trying to keep Zed out of trouble,” I whispered, “but I led him straight to it, Elodie. I’m a bloody curse.”
She stroked my cheeks, thumbed away my tears. “You’re tired and drained. I know this because it’s when your superstitious Scottish nonsense comes out. There’s no such thing as cursed. There’s good and evil. Those who do what is wrong, who are evil, and those who do what is good, who are kind. You are no curse, Nairne. You are good and kind,” she muttered, kissing my cheek while dropping her hands down to mine and grasping them. “Alexandre is evil. It’s that simple. It’s horrible, but it’s that simple.”
I squeezed her hands in mine and leaned forward to rest my head on them. Then I sat up, empty of words and full of emotion. I nodded and backed up my wheelchair as Elodie drew up a seat in my place and took Zed’s hand in hers.
“Go on.” She tilted her chin toward the small restroom and shower.
“Thank you, El,” I whispered.
“Of course. Now go freshen up. I’ll be right here.”
I maneuvered inside the bathroom and pulled the door shut. When I looked away from the door, I caught my reflection in the mirror. I looked hellacious. My hair was matted and the makeup I’d worn last night for the gala was smudged around my eyes. My mouth was swollen in the corner and a shiner had formed on my cheekbone.
But Zed was so much worse.
He was lying in a hospital bed, his head wrapped neatly in gauze, intubated, with a breathing machine rhythmically filling his lungs. Various mechanisms hummed and beeped, monitoring his blood pressure, brain activity, oxygen level, dispensing medicine that kept his body stable. For now.
A wave of nausea washed over me, and I barely managed to get myself turned toward the toilet before I retched violently. I had nothing left in my stomach, but I heaved over and over, tears spilling down my face.
