Rocco took his seat as they passed into Colorado.
Hours later, dawn broke out on the range. From his window he saw small purple and white flowers that bloomed from the sun.
Nothing was more beautiful. The air had a sweet smell that must be freedom.
The bus veered off the road to a gas station in front of a mountain pass with snow on the peaks though not on the fields around them. The driver announced, “We’re stopping here for gas. Feel free to get out and stretch your legs. We have fifteen minutes.”
Rocco kept his head down, drawing no attention to himself. He neared the driver and pointed toward a back road. “What’s up that way?”
“Nothing but mountain,” the driver said. “And then another behind it.”
The best place to lie low was where no one expected to find him. He was from Miami. He had to speak with his mother and find out if she was surrounded or had her phone tapped, not that he quite knew how to tell that.
He would call from a number no one would be able to trace.
Once upon a time he’d been trained to hide his tracks and go behind enemy lines.
Now that enemy was the country he loved.
He picked up a free bottle of water the bus offered and pocketed it as he got off to stretch his legs.
Fifteen minutes later, the driver called to everyone at the station, “All aboard.”
Rocco stepped behind the old cement building with four gas pumps and waited.
No witnesses to see him.
Only once the bus was long gone did he head into the mountains.
Safety didn’t come from continually being lucky, not like today. And from this moment on, he’d be better prepared to avoid being taken back into custody.
Chapter 2
Perhaps buying and remodeling this winter chalet but not renting it out was a waste of money—Michaela Murphy’s investors would certainly think so, if they knew it was ready, which is why she’d kept it under wraps.
She listened to her brother ask about the upcoming snow storm on the phone. The green trees and white snow were an escape for her and her infant son. She’d come here to heal from her close encounter with death a few months ago, when she’d been poisoned. She’d almost lost her unborn baby. She’d almost lost her life.
But she’d survived.
“Raphael, we’re fine.” Her brother, two years older than her, was thousands of miles away.
Her son slept peacefully as the sun set outside her huge windows on the second floor. The cold from the mountain’s chill prompted her to get a sweater, even inside. It also meant she was still here, still walking, still breathing, and almost ready to be herself. She’d promised her board next year. She would be ready to take on her fulltime role as billionaire CEO, running her family’s hotel chains.
Since arriving at the chalet with her infant a few weeks ago, she’d learned to breathe again.
No more fantasies where she married a foreign prince and lived happily-ever-after. That life was for the naïve, and she wasn’t that.
“You need to protect yourself from the storm, sis.”
“I promise.”
Her brother huffed. “Mom said you and Jacob are not okay, and that you should go home.”
Their mother thought a woman needed a man to survive. She’d made Mica wear dresses and dream about fairy tales.
The illusion hadn’t included poison and near-death in a foreign country.
Her will to live was what had saved her and Jacob, and no one was going to steal that fire from her.
In fact, she was here to let the flames grow stronger. She would do anything to protect her son. Mica settled on the edge of her bed as night darkened. “I’m not going to live in their New York penthouse. Ali’s family would find us in a second there.”
Just saying that man’s name made her heart twist and her hands go into fists.
If she’d been a man, she’d have punched him.
But because she was a woman, he’d used her, almost married her, tried to murder her, and take her stock holdings while he wed another.
His evil countenance was now the face of every horror movie she’d ever seen, and the center of every bullseye she’d taken a shot at since.
Raphael would have fought back just as hard and yet he said, “Ali’s dead. The assassins are dead. You’ll be fine in New York.”
The need to scream hit her hard. At least here, in the middle of nowhere, she’d get her chance to heal without drama, or expectations.
Then she’d be ready to reclaim her life and introduce Jacob to the fast pace of the city. She snorted. “No. It will be worse. They’ll want to take care of me and find me a husband, like I need a man.”
“You’re still bitter about them introducing you to Ali,” her brother said.
Give the man the Understatement of the Year award. Perhaps that was bitter. She sighed and ignored the pang in her heart. “He poisoned me and tried to stop me from having my son.”
Her voice went more high-pitched at the end, giving her emotion away.
Drat. She stood and checked on her baby boy in his crib in her luxury suite but he slept still.
Good. She’d never let him feel anything but loved. It was all he deserved.
Mica would ensure that Jacob had everything he ever needed. He was already heir to her majority shares in the family company. One day he’d be richer than anyone else he’d ever meet. She would raise Jacob to be strong and smart and confident.
Her brother said, “Ali is dead, so fear of him is no longer a reason to hide.”
Her body ticked like he’d struck her over the phone. She lifted her chin and said, “You and Gabriel have zero right to say a word about me not being in New York right now. I was running the family business while you were both… brooding.”
Raphael didn’t argue. He gave another direct hit when he said, “We miss you, Mica.”
And she missed them. She’d missed them for years when they’d left her alone to handle everything. She returned to her perch on the edge of her mattress. I’ll be back soon. I need to gather my strength, just me and Jacob.”
Her oldest brother Gabriel’s wife had seduced Raphael, and then tried to kill Gabriel. Both her brothers had gone into hiding for years. Neither of them spoke until they’d married good women and forgave their past. “And I can’t fault that. Gabriel and I took off, leaving all the responsibilities on your shoulders.”
They’d left her with controlling interest in their hotel empire, but taking up the slack had empowered her and she’d enjoyed running the business. “I liked working. I still do, but after Ali… I need to rest.”
Maybe, if they hadn’t disappeared for years on end, she’d have never fallen for Ali or almost gotten herself killed, but who knew?
“That’s why I support you,” Raphael said. “My castle has wings you can have to yourself, but I’d be here to protect you if something happened.”
She stood from the bed and looked out the fogged glass windows, the darkness shadowing her spring-green lawn about to disappear in the coming snow storm. “You and your wife need time alone in your castle. Besides, I prefer amenities like WIFI, but I appreciate the offer. My son and I are happy here.”
The drop in temperature meant she’d have to turn up the heater.
“Don’t stay too long.”
Mica, phone to her ear, slid her slippers on, checked that her sleeping baby was snug, and made her way out of her bedroom, past the tapestries she’d hung in the hotel, and headed down the stairs to ensure the entire fifty-two room, eight-suite chalet would be warm in the morning. Every room had a gas fireplace and balcony to enjoy the views of the Rocky Mountains.
The thermostat was in the back room, behind the empty space meant for a restaurant, that no guests ever saw. It was very dark inside the hotel.
“I’ll see you soon,” she said. “I just want to watch out for my son and bond with him, alone.”
Raphael asked, “What if Ali’s family does look for y
ou?”
She’d prepared for that. No one knew exactly where she was, except the mountain she intended to build on but only certain people had that intel. Her family had. Her investors didn’t. She didn’t check in online for social media, though she posted travel pics as if she was in some far-flung place with her baby halfway across the world rather than a mountain chalet outside Aspen.
Mica’s helicopter was fueled; her guns were locked away but loaded. The bottom step of the staircase creaked, but she was getting used to the chalet’s noises. She entered into the grand room with a huge gas fireplace and lifted her chin. “I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, sis,” Raphael said.
The confidence he had in her twisted her up. She had to take care of herself and Jacob first. Mica knew she’d never find a partner that she could trust.
Her heart hurt and she pressed her hand to her chest.
She’d need her medicine soon.
A moment later the pain subsided, and she continued without mentioning the pangs, “You bet I can. Remember when I flew my helicopter in to save you and your now wife Kimberly?”
“I owe you,” Raphael said as she found the thermostat and turned the dial up. “We both remember, and you were so weak. I’m glad you’re giving yourself time.”
She said, “The doctors said I’ll make a full recovery.”
If she gave herself time to heal, without any added stress in her life.
She took one of the prepared bottles of formula from the refrigerator, the open door lighting the otherwise dark kitchen. Everything was quiet. Too late for birds to chirp, and all of nature’s creatures were probably hiding from the upcoming storm. She’d been watching the warning on the news, before her brother had called.
Mica headed back to the suite she’d taken for herself and Jacob as his nursery. Raphael said, “If you don’t push yourself.”
The quiet was exactly why she was here. Mica climbed the stairs. “I’ll be running down the streets of New York in terror if I have to actually live near Mom and Dad.”
Raphael laughed and the sound calmed her nerves. Dark clouds rolled in front of the moon. Tomorrow the storm would be here. “Keep your phone on at all times and call me if you need anything.”
As she made it to the top step she heard her baby cry, and rushed toward her room. “Jacob’s awake, I have to go. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Mica.”
She hung up the phone and tossed it on the dresser near her door as she hurried to the crib.
Jacob’s beautiful chubby baby hands reached for his bottle like he might hold it firm as she put it in his mouth.
Soon he’d be strong and big and able to hold anything, but for now he still needed her assistance. She held his bottle as she stood over him while he ate without crying.
She took off her slippers and stared at the moon that was now full in the night sky. No snow yet, but it was coming. She’d parked her car in the garage under the hotel so the storm wouldn’t hurt her vehicle.
She changed into her night clothes, happy with the solitude.
Silence was nice. Silence was why she was here. She picked up her baby and rocked him in her arms.
Her body wrung in pain. This one came on fast, which hadn’t happened in a while. Raphael’s concern had been sweet but stressful. She breathed through it.
Drat, she’d forgotten her medicine. It suppressed these attacks.
Mica continued to smile at her baby boy while a sharp, stabbing pain rocked her insides—she wouldn’t scare him. She placed him back in the crib as she sat on the bed, afraid to drop him.
He drank his bottle and stared at her with big brown eyes. She ignored the writhing misery inside her and wiped her tears. “Jacob, we’ll be fine.” She stood, palm to her heart. “Part of me wishes I’d hired a nurse right now but it will be okay.” Her mom had always complained she was both independent and stubborn, but this was why she was a good CEO and now mother.
The convulsion was subsiding, but soon she’d have horrible back pain because of it. “I’ll go get my medicine. Your mom will be healthy soon.”
Mica made it to the door just as the room went black. Despite how her muscles were being tortured with spasms, she headed to the side of the bed and found her flashlight. “The lights went out like some horror movie, but see? These are fun. Flashlights.”
She flicked the lights on and off making bunny ears on the wall.
Jacob cooed.
The torment in her body caused her back to convulse.
She should have grabbed her pills. She bent over the crib and massaged her baby’s head gently. “Tomorrow you and I will play some more, okay?” She took a few painful steps toward the door, pretending her strained muscles weren’t a problem and spoke her lie like her infant baby was keeping track of her. “I just need to check the locks and windows.”
Her son never needed to know she required medicine.
Mica slipped out the door with all the lights now black. “Finish your bottle, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
Once she left the area she lived in, she just used her flashlight to find her generator enough to keep hundreds of guests toasty warm as her future hotel would cost a lot in electricity monthly, and on another night, she might skip entirely as she was only one person with a baby. The flashlight was the only brightness in the dark.
She made her way down the stairs as her stomach flipped from multiple cramps. The poison hadn’t killed her though doctors weren’t sure exactly what it would do as the toxin had never been identified.
Mica stepped into the kitchen and goosebumps grew on her arms. She flashed her light toward an open window and her body cringed as she made out a masculine shadow.
Had Ali’s family come for her? Her guns were locked up. For now she used the wall to hold herself taller and asked, “Who are you?”
The dark-haired man, tall, in loose clothes, bowed his head. “Lost, ma’am.”
If he was here to kill her, he’d have shot her. Not called her ma’am.
No way she could make it upstairs to get her son if he intended harm.
So she stepped forward as lightning flashed outside. She swallowed and said a little prayer. “There’s a storm rolling in.”
He glanced around the kitchen. She wasn’t sure what he saw in the darkness, but he asked, “Is this a hotel?”
Her body doubled down and cringed in pain, but she held her head high. What if he worked for Ali? “There are no rooms available. Town is down the main road.”
He met her gaze and for one moment she was mesmerized.
She wanted to trust him.
But the last man who’d caught her eyes had left her to die, so she was a horrible judge. He said, “I don’t have a car, ma’am.”
Without bags and in horrible fitting clothes, she was loaded with questions. She glanced up at the roof and half-expected the lightning outside to strike her. But this man seemed… genuine. It was already so blinding white outside and she’d send him to his death in the storm if he spoke the truth. No car, and lost, in these elements? But her instincts that led her to billions of dollars in profits kicked in and she wasn’t loaded with a million questions. She needed to learn to trust herself and her instincts again. And her gut said that Rocco was good and not a threat. She said, mostly to herself, “I’m a fool.”
He raised his palms up. “I just need a place to stay until the storm-”
“I’ll get you a room but I’ll need to lock you in.”
His lips thinned and he said, “I don’t like locks.”
He'd come through her kitchen window. Thunder boomed and icy rain pelleted the glass.
The storm had started early.
If she’d been caught by surprise outside, she might have climbed in a window too.
Which also made her stupid for justifying crime. She crossed her arms. “I don’t like strangers nearby when I sleep.”
He didn’t move a muscle, but his nose lifted as he said, �
��Lock your door then.”
Her door and suite were fully stocked so if there was one whiff of danger, she could protect her and Jacob. She had enough food and water, and her gun. She passed him and picked up her pill bottle, hoping he hadn’t seen what it was. “Oh, I can do more than lock my door if you come near me.”
She dropped her pills when another tremor of pain rocked through her.
He picked them up and handed her the bottle, taking one out. He poured her a glass of water from her tap and handed it to her with a smile. “I’ll make breakfast for you, ma’am.”
She took her pill. In a few minutes she’d be fine. Her eyebrow lifted. A man who intended harm certainly would not offer to make her food. “Breakfast?”
This close in the dark, there was a glimmer in his eyes that made her heart lift as he said, “Yeah, I can whip up eggs.”
If he was here to rob her food, she had enough to survive the winter in her own panic room that was stocked with formula, water and canned food.
With her medicine making her at full strength, she’d be able to protect Jacob upstairs, locking them into her bulletproof suite. She had to hope that not everyone in the world was evil. She offered to shake his hand. “My name is Mica.”
His grip was firm and strong. “Rocco, ma’am.”
The name fit him perfectly. He was strong like a stone, had the edges of a bad boy, but seemed to have a sweetness in his soul that made her trust when she trusted no one. Neither of them shared a last name, but if he was only staying the night, it wasn’t necessary to know more. She ended the shake and closed the window. “I told you my name so you don’t call me ma’am again.”
He reached above her head and locked it.
For one second it was like they were a team, but that sounded silly. She’d never trust anyone ever again.
Chapter 3
Rocco Hellsworth’s back didn’t ache when he woke up at the hotel. His mattress wasn’t cheap, thin and full of springs.
And his shower this morning… heavenly.
He’d not had a shower alone in two years.
Hidden Rocco (Hidden Alphas Book 5) Page 2
