Freeing Her (A Hart Brothers Novel Book 1)

by A. M. Hargrove

  That was it. He spun around and got the hell out of there before he came in his jeans. What the fuck was wrong with him? His tastes usually ran to the extreme. Not to what was lying in the guest room.

  After he paced the hallway a few times, he knew he must wake her. This time, instead of being quiet, he marched back in and said, “Hey. Time to get up!”

  She rolled back and forth a bit. But that was it.

  “Gabby. You need to get up. Now!”

  “Huh? What?” She rolled over and groaned. “Oh God, my head.”

  “Yep. I tried to warn you.”

  “Huh?”

  “Last night. I tried to dissuade you from drinking.”

  She turned her head and looked at Kolson, squinting. “Um, who’re you?”

  “Skippy.”

  “Skippy?”

  “Yeah. You don’t remember me?”

  “Uh, give me a minute. My head’s exploding right now.”

  Gabby’s head felt like a thousand jackhammers were trying to outdo each other. And her mouth tasted like an animal had urinated in it. Not that an animal had ever urinated in her mouth before but still ...

  Kolson handed her a glass of juice. “Here. This may help.”

  “Uh, thanks.”

  She guzzled it. “I’m so thirsty.”

  “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

  She lay back down and massaged her temples. She hadn’t even noticed her state of dress … or undress, as it were.

  “Do you work?” Kolson asked.

  “Of course I work. What kind of question is that?” She groaned again.

  “A legitimate one. Many people don’t work. You could be independently wealthy.”

  Gabby tried to laugh, but failed. “That’s funny.”

  “What time?”

  “Huh?”

  “Work? What time do you have to be there?” he snapped.

  “Oh. I don’t know. I have to check my schedule,” Gabby replied.

  “Then Gabby, I suggest you do so.”

  She looked up at him and saw him for the first time. Even in her hungover state, there was no mistaking the man who stood before her. Tall and beautiful. Faded blond hair, cropped a bit closer on the sides but longer on the top, with a sculpted face that was something you’d see on a magazine cover. Not the pretty kind of face you often saw, but a rugged one with flaws that was much sexier because of them. Compelling was the word that came to mind.

  “Who are you?” She was totally confused.

  He looked at her and his lips curved into a smile emphasizing a scar that ran from his bottom lip to his chin. Oddly enough, it only made him more attractive. And his eyes. Arresting. An odd mixture of colors, she couldn’t quite figure them out. But they looked to be charcoal on the outside, forest green in the center and chestnut brown closest to the pupil. Strange, yet stunning.

  “I told you. I’m Skippy.”

  Her weak attempt at laughing failed again. “Right.” God, she thought, if only her head would stop throbbing, maybe she could think. She lifted herself up to her elbows and nearly died. A wave of dizziness smacked her in the cranium and she collapsed back on the bed.

  “You okay?”

  She groaned. “Hell no, I’m not okay. I have an epic hangover.”

  “I tried to warn you. Repeatedly. Hang tight a sec.”

  Like I’m going somewhere?

  He came back and said, “Here. Take these and drink.” He handed her some pills and a glass of water.

  “What is it?”

  “Ibuprofen. Go on.”

  She downed it and then she caught her state of dress.

  “Holy shit!” She scrambled to cover herself.

  “Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?”

  “No! I can’t believe you let me lie here like this.”

  “And what precisely did you expect me to do?”

  “Cover me up! I’m half naked!”

  “I know that. And damn enticing.”

  “Stop it, Skippy.”

  He smirked at her.

  “Where the hell am I?”

  “At my place. I was going to escort you home last night, but you passed out on me before I had the chance.”

  “But, you didn’t …” Her voice trailed off as the memory of Danny’s call nailed her. Oh shit! Danny. Danny found me. He’s back. She broke out into a sweat as she thought about his phone call.

  Gabby didn’t notice how Kolson’s humor disappeared because she was stuck in a panic mode over Danny’s call.

  Kolson turned his flinty gaze on her. “I didn’t what? I made sure that no harm came to you. What’s wrong with you, going out alone like that, getting all sloppy drunk and then not knowing how you’re getting home?” he snapped.

  “But that’s not what I …”

  He cut her off. “I don’t give a fuck what your intentions were. That’s what happened. What if I had been a rotten bastard? I could’ve fucked you till your eyes rolled back in your head or worse yet, raped and then killed you.”

  All she could do was gape at him. She bowed her head and swallowed. “Wow. I think I should go. I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble. But you’re absolutely right. It was careless and very stupid of me. And I should never have done it.” She shook her head. She had to get out of there and away from him so she could think. It wasn’t safe for her anymore. Her belly lurched at the thought.

  Kolson scrutinized her as she swung her perfect legs over the side of the bed. She stood up, unsteady, and grabbed the mattress edge. Using her free hand, she tugged her skirt into place. Then she pinched the bridge of her nose. Black dots blurred her vision, but she wasn’t sure if they were from fear or from her hangover. “Um, would it be too much of an imposition to use your restroom?”

  He pointed to a door. “Over there.”

  She flinched at his tone. Anxiety had edged its familiar place under her skin. Jeez, she’d already apologized. What more did he want?

  In the bathroom, she noticed expensive toiletries on the countertop, exactly like what one would find in a high-end hotel. She took care of business and looked in the mirror. Hanging her head, she took a deep breath and let it ease its way out. As she looked at herself, she grimaced when she saw the pale, wild-eyed girl staring back—smeared makeup, knotted hair. With shaking hands, she did her best to clean off the mascara and then rinsed with mouthwash. Her hair proved to be quite a challenge, so she twisted it back up into a bun.

  “Gah, why the hell did you drink so much?” she spoke to the stranger who stared back at her. Splashing water on her face, she leaned on bent wrists. “He’s right. You put yourself at great risk, dumbass, knowing Danny’s back. What the hell are you going to do?” Fire burned her belly as terror gripped her. “Oh God, please don’t let him find me.” Then in a resigned tone she whispered, “He will. He always does.”

  When she walked out of the bathroom, he was nowhere in sight. Gazing around the room, she noticed the expensive furnishings. Lovely window treatments, gorgeous furniture, bed linens, and the artwork displayed on the walls were beautiful. Skippy had great taste. And lots of money, so it seemed.

  After she pushed her feet into her pumps and collected her few things, she peeked down the hall outside the bedroom. Maybe she could sneak out without having to say goodbye. That’d be nice, but too much to ask with her luck. Not knowing where the exit door was, she took a guess and headed to the right. But that landed her in the den, right where Kolson stood.

  He didn’t hear her approach so she briefly admired his physique. It wasn’t difficult though as he was quite extraordinary to look at. “So, yeah, I guess I’ll be on my way. Thank you for looking out for me last night. I realize you could’ve left me there and I totally appreciate the bed and all. Sorry for the inconvenience.” She looked for the door to leave but his voice stopped her.

  “Someone will be here in a moment to drive you home.”

  “Oh, no. That’s really not necessary. I’m fine and can get myself
home.”

  “I’ve already made the arrangements.”

  “Well, okay, then. Thank you. You’ve been more than kind.” She felt awkward, not sure what to say.

  “I’m sorry for being so harsh on you.”

  She held up her hand. “No. You were right. Completely. And I deserved it.” She gave him a tremulous half smile.

  He looked at her and noticed the haunted look in her eyes.

  The doorman buzzed him.

  “Sir, a car is here for you.”

  “Thanks, Manny.”

  “Come.” He extended his arm, indicating the direction for her to take.

  “I’ve got this.”

  He blew out his breath. “Are you always this damn difficult?” He watched her body droop and briefly puzzled over it.

  That wasn’t the first time she’d been asked that. Difficult … that’s what her parents always called her. “Why must you be so damned difficult, Gabby? Nothing is ever easy with you.” Did wanting to be independent mean she was difficult? Was trying to tell your parents that someone did something terrible to you, something so awful, it made you want to hide forever—was that being difficult? Gabby hadn’t thought so, but apparently everyone else had.

  In a voice so quiet Kolson had to strain to hear, she said, “I suppose I am. At least that’s what I’ve been told.”

  “I can see that,” he said dryly, as he escorted her out the door.

  He lived in the penthouse of whatever building they were in. Gabby didn’t care enough to pay attention. All she wanted to do was get away from here. Kolson had different ideas, though. She intrigued him, and that was a rare thing indeed. They rode the elevator down in silence and he ushered her into the waiting car. She gave the driver her address and when she got home, she insisted on paying him.

  “Miss, it’s been taken care of already.”

  “Then please give this to whoever paid for it.”

  The driver gave her an odd look, but would not accept her money. After arguing with him for several minutes, the driver finally said, “Miss, Mr. H. owns this company. He would have my rear end if he knew I allowed you to pay for this.”

  “Oh. Well, thank you. It was very kind of you to drive me home.” Gabby ducked her head and got out of the car. Mr. H. must be Skippy. That’s why his apartment had been so richly decorated. She didn’t let herself think any more of him. She had a day’s worth of patients and had to see them with a hangover. And all this was Danny’s fault. For once in her life, Gabby wished she had the heart of a murderer, because she’d like to kill Danny Martinelli for the way he had ripped her life apart.

  Chapter Three

  Sam kept an eye on Gabby and watched which building she entered. Once he had her address, he called Mr. Hart.

  “Got it, Mr. H. 333 East 86th Street.”

  “Thank you, Sam.” Kolson thought for a moment and realized that address was a piece of property he had recently acquired.

  “Um, Mr. H., she tried to pay me and I had to tell her it was your company.”

  “That’s fine, Sam.”

  Sam breathed a little easier. He didn’t like it when his boss was displeased with him. Mr. H. was fair in everything, but you didn’t want to piss him off. Ever since he left his father’s business and started up his own, he was his own man, ruled by no one. But Mr. H. was not to be trifled with. And if you fucked him over in business, you might as well hand him your head on a platter.

  “You still want me to follow her?”

  “Yeah. I want to know where she works.”

  “Got it, boss.”

  “And Sam. If you see anything unusual, like someone harassing her, take care of it or let me know.”

  “Sure thing, Mr. H.”

  Kolson hung up and was about to leave for the office when he remembered to check the guest room. He wanted to make sure the bed was unmade so his housekeeper would change the sheets. That’s when he discovered that Gabby had left her wallet behind. It must’ve fallen out of her purse. He opened it to see if he could find a contact number. Instead he found a few dollars, a couple of credit cards, and her driver’s license.

  He quickly called Sam.

  “Mr. H.”

  “Sam, Gabby left her wallet behind. Do you think you have time to get back here before she’s ready for work?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. I’ll meet you out front.”

  # # #

  Gabby dashed inside and got ready for work in record time, opting to catch a cab to work. She didn’t notice Sam following her.

  The cab dropped her off on East 68th and she sprinted up the steps of a small brownstone that held a sign reading, Gabriella Martinelli, M.D., alongside two other names. But when she got to the door, she extracted a folded-up piece of paper. It wasn’t difficult for Sam to notice how shaken she was as she looked at it.

  Sam double-parked and was on Gabby’s heels. He walked through the entrance and inside found three doors, each leading to separate offices. One was a marriage counselor, one a massage therapist and the third was Gabby’s. He opened the one with Gabby’s name on it. When he walked in, Gabby nearly screamed.

  “Oh God! You frightened me!”

  “I’m sorry, miss. That wasn’t my intention. Are you all right?”

  Her hand was at her throat and Sam couldn’t help but notice how deathly pale her face was.

  Gabby’s breath rasped through her lips as she nodded. “Yes, I’m okay.” In her other hand, she clutched the note from the door.

  “Mr. H. wanted me to give this to you. He found it in his penthouse and he would’ve called, but he didn’t have your number.”

  As she reached for the wallet, her posture relaxed slightly. “Oh, my goodness. Thank you. I was worried when I went to pay the cab fare and couldn’t find my wallet. I was lucky that I had some spare cash in my briefcase. What did you say your name was?”

  “It’s Sam, miss.”

  “Thank you, Sam.” She attempted a smile but it came off more like a grimace.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “Yes. Please tell Mr. H. thank you.”

  “I will.”

  Sam turned and walked out. As soon as he was in his car, he picked up his phone and called Mr. Hart. “Found her. Gabriella Martinelli, M.D., on East 68th Street. But she found a note on her door and she appears to be real upset. When I went inside to give her the wallet, she was pretty shaken up.”

  Kolson hid his displeasure. But he was a master at hiding his emotions. “But she was okay? There wasn’t anyone with her?”

  “No, sir. She was alone.”

  “Good. Nicely done, Sam. At finding her office, I mean, and returning her wallet.”

  Sam smiled. “It was nothing, Mr. H. Want me to do anything else?”

  “Yeah. I do. Tail her for a couple days. But get a different car. I don’t want her to see you. I want to know if anyone is bothering her. In other words, look out for her, Sam.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Sam headed over to HTS to exchange cars. In the meantime, Kolson Googled Gabby and discovered she was a psychiatrist.

  A psychiatrist with some serious issues. Maybe he should make an appointment with her and they could try to one up each other. He let out a mirthless laugh. What was going on in her life that had her so upset?

  Kolson continued to dig for more on the sweet doctor. Her credentials were damn good. Did her undergrad at Princeton. Went to med school at Columbia in New York and residency at NYU School of Medicine, mainly at Bellevue and finished a year ago. Worked with sexual abuse victims and drug addicts. And this is where Kolson perked up. He discovered she donated a lot of her time and effort to Narcotics Anonymous and other organizations that helped people with addictive disorders. Still was on staff at the drug rehab program at Bellevue. And she also volunteered at a women’s shelter.

  It took a huge amount to impress Kolson, but Dr. Martinelli had done just that—only she didn’t kn
ow it.

  Gabby. Gabriella Martinelli. He suddenly needed to know more.

  Picking up the phone, he dialed a number.

  “Tom Barrett.”

  “Tom, Kolson Hart here.”

  “Mr. Hart. What can I do for you?”

  “Tom, I need you to gather some information for me.”

  “On a potential client?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  Tom Barrett ran the security division of Hart Transportation Service. Every employee had to be screened and drug tested before they were hired. HTS had high-profile clients and they had to ensure the safety of them, so only the most reliable drivers where hired. Employees also signed nondisclosure agreements so they couldn’t discuss their clientele.

  Kolson said, “I need some information on a Dr. Gabriella Martinelli.”

  “Certainly, sir. How soon do you need it?”

  “Whenever you can collect it.”

  Tom Barrett knew better. That meant as soon as possible.

  “No problem, sir. I can get right on it.”

  “Very good, Tom. Oh, and whatever information you find, send it directly to me. This is not to be shared with anyone. Dr. Martinelli does not have an account established yet. Are we clear?”

  “Absolutely, Mr. Hart. Shall I send the file to you via courier, or would an electronic one be okay?”

  “You can email it all to me.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  “Thanks, Tom.”

  Kolson tossed his phone down and knew he would have his information in a few days at the most. He decided to have Sam stay on her and if everything seemed fine, then that would be the end of it. That is, unless something showed up in her file, or if Sam found someone harassing her. Things didn’t add up. Why would she be so upset by a note and why did she get so damn loaded last night? Some of the things she’d said indicated she was frightened of someone. Kolson didn’t like that one bit. He usually didn’t butt in, but for some reason, this situation had him worried and he couldn’t put his finger on why.

  # # #

  Gabby barely made it through the door of her office, her hands were shaking so badly. He had been by earlier that morning and taped a note to her door.