The gates lifted. His hands shook as he followed the winding downhill road. His bogus kingdom loomed closer and closer. No matter how often he’d pretended otherwise, he never had been and wasn’t now in charge. Because he’d played the game, an innocent woman would suffer. The rub was it all could have been avoided if he’d only thought with his head and not his third leg. That slipup would haunt him forever.
Despite the odds of the pill destroying the fetus, his seed had grown to almost full term, turning mother and child into targets of the genius who couldn’t wait to harvest the stem cells. How ironic the cocktail designed to turn Dorrie into a willing victim may have been the catalyst to sustain the child’s life.
The man had much at stake. In a way Roman didn’t blame him for doing whatever he could to get his life back. What would it feel like to be in the man’s shoes, hopelessly disfigured, facing ridicule if he dared step into the light of day?
The thought of enduring such ugliness made his stomach turn. Thank God, he’d been blessed with spectacular features, a blessing from the Almighty, whom unfortunately he was now disobeying. He couldn’t shake a superstitious feeling somehow he’d be punished for his betrayal.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Roman had been so wrapped up in thought he almost missed the turn to the side entrance. He pressed the automatic door opener on the van’s visor, then pulled into the underground parking garage accessed only by himself and the squat man who spent his life in the sub-basement.
Once inside, he grabbed the gun from his pocket and trained it on Dorrie. “Get out.”
She sat there shaking, making him feel like a cad.
“I said, get out. Take your pick. We can do this either peacefully, or violently. I pose this question. Would you want anything bad to happen to the baby?”
She looked him squarely in the eyes. “I can’t believe you’d hurt your own child, Roman.”
“You don’t know me. I’d pick myself over anyone else any time. I’m that selfish.”
He flinched inside at the disappointment in her eyes, but at this stage couldn’t change what he’d become. Roman leaned closer and aimed the gun at her head. “Now, get out, or I’ll use this.”
CHAPTER FORTY
Dorrie’s thoughts raced as her hand fumbled with the door handle. If Roman had killed Larry, which seemed more and more likely, why had he brought her here, instead of to an out-of- the-way place where he could do the same to her?
The only answer she came up with was chilling to the extreme. He wanted the baby for experiments. If so, she’d fight him to the end, and offer her own life if needs be. Most likely she’d have to.
She stumbled down the stairs of the SUV and into the garage she’d never known existed. Roman stood at her side, gun leveled at her. “Get moving. Go straight.”
Half-expecting him to yell and say, “faster,” Dorrie waddled along as best she could.
“Okay, turn left.”
They reached a blank wall.
“Turn around against the wall.”
Oh, God, she’d been wrong. He planned to shoot her right here, baby or no baby, and deposit her remains in an incinerator. She tried to pray, but her heart pounded so loudly it drowned out her efforts.
While training the gun on her, he held his other arm out on the wall close to her shoulder and moved closer. This was it. Her breath caught in her throat.
Instead of pinning her down and shooting, his fingers tapped the wall, which turned, along with them. She now stood in what appeared to be a basement. She’d been spared. He hadn’t meant to kill her. Relief flooded through her.
“Move forward.”
As soon as she and Roman took a few steps, the wall moved back. From her present perspective, it looked like a seamless basement wall, instead of one from a Nancy Drew novel she’d read ages ago.
He pressed the gun into her back. “Go straight ahead. I’ll tell you when to stop.”
Recessed yellow lights cast a dim glow, as she traversed the length of the corridor. This part of the Institute looked far different than the modern portion of the building she’d so often frequented.
“Stop. Step to the right.”
As soon as she’d done so, a door opened automatically.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” a voice spoke from within.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
The next room looked almost as dark as the hallway. Inside, she could barely make out the outline of a short, stocky man. Still she recognized him, and shrank from the sight. “You’re the one who robbed my house,” she said aloud, without thinking.
“That’s right, my dear, but that’s nothing compared to what I’m about to rob.”
He pointed toward a gurney in the corner. She covered her mouth and swayed from shock. My God, would he forcibly take the baby from her?
“Okay, handsome one, get her up there and tie her down.”
She turned to Roman. “If you have any decency at all, please don’t let him do this.”
“I’m sorry, Dorrie.”
He yanked her purse off her shoulder and threw it by the door, then grabbed her by the arm, dragged her across the floor, and pushed her onto the table. She flailed and kicked hard with her arms and legs, tearing a seam on her dress, and exposing her leg. No matter how hard she tried, her efforts proved futile against Roman’s superior strength. As he held her down, the gnome stepped up and bound her wrists and ankles onto the leather straps. The table rose, bringing her body to arm level with the gnome.
The ugly man stood over her. Mesmerized by his grotesque features, she couldn’t tear her eyes from him.
“That’s right, girlie, take a last look at my before-the-pill face. Too bad you won’t see the after.”
He’d as good as admitted she’d not live through the ordeal. Could she bear the pain? Did she have a choice? A shiver raced up and down her spine. Her teeth chattered. Her hands turned icy. Maybe if she kept him talking he’d change his mind, or a miraculous intervention would occur.
“Does that mean you’ll take Roman’s pill, as I’ve been doing?”
The man gave a short laugh. “No, my dear. I’ll take my own pill. It never belonged to the fancy front of my operation.
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, then I’ll explain, so someone with your limited intelligence can comprehend.
“At one time I looked passably decent. Granted, not as handsome as the Angel Man, but average enough to get by. That was before a chance encounter with a deceptively docile canine stripped me of my looks and dignity, forcing me to live underground.”
“What happened?” She didn’t want to hear the story, but would listen to anything to stall for time.
What he told her was too horrible to contemplate. The disfigured man had suffered much, deprived of human contact, as his mind grappled with the hideous deformity he’d been forced to endure. If Dorrie weren’t in such a dire predicament, she’d feel sorry for him. As it was, fear consumed her, blocking out other emotions.
“No more talk. Roman. Flip the switch. I’m anxious to begin. Let’s see what she looks like.”
The room brightened. A huge spotlight shone down on her. Dorrie cringed at the realization her most private parts would be exposed to this hideous creature, as well as Roman. God, please don’t let this happen, she prayed to herself. Would He hear her plea and have pity on her? Would He offer a way out?
There wasn’t one. Dorrie knew for certain she’d die in a most humiliating and painful way at the hands of the demon gripping a scissors and forceps, while the man known as an angel looked on, allowing the atrocity to occur.
Or, was there a chance? Roman couldn’t be all that bad, no matter how he insisted he was. She’d seen the way he’d looked at her at odd times. She’d noticed how his face softened when she spoke of their baby. There had to be a spark of compassion lurking somewhere inside of him, but would it be enough to outweigh his selfishness?
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
She tur
ned her head and looked straight into the Angel Man’s blue eyes. “Please, Roman, let me go. You’re not a monster like him. Spare me, if not for myself, but for the child. You can’t trust this man. Look at him. Our baby won’t survive at his hands. He’ll do anything to get whole again.”
***
Roman’s hand shook as he trained the gun on Dorrie. He could put it down, since she already lay helpless on the gurney, but his hand had a will of its own. He dare not release the hold, or he’d relent to his conscience.
“Come over here, pretty one. Grab the instruments. You can be my nurse,” the man said to him.
Snapped from his trance, Roman put the gun in his pocket and stepped up beside the man. At sight of the implements glinting sharply beside the vials of liquid on the counter, his stomach roiled.
“Afraid they’ll bite? Go ahead. Pick them up. Time’s wasting.”
“No.”
“Of course you will. You can’t back out. You’re in this as much as I am.”
“I’d like to think I have more compassion than to harm a helpless female.”
The squat man shook his head. “Roman, Roman, do not allow her histrionics to sway you. She’s only a bitch, nothing more. You don’t need her. Think of all the riches and fame you’d lose.”
Roman drew the gun out, this time pointing it at the man instead of Dorrie, then stepped back to the gurney. “Money isn’t everything.”
With one hand, he kept the gun trained on the man. With the other, he loosened Dorrie’s bonds. Later, he may regret what he’d given up, but something inside told him to do the right thing. Call it love, compassion or some other sentiment. Whatever its name, it swept over him, obliterating common sense.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
God had answered her prayers. Relief flooded through Dorrie as she clumsily raised herself up, legs hanging over the gurney. “Roman, thank you. I’ll never forget your kindness.”
“Promise you’ll take good care of the little one.”
“You have my word.”
Her legs were so stiff as she clambered off she almost fell to the floor. Instinct told her to grab her purse from the corner by the door. She awkwardly bent down to retrieve it.
About to turn the knob, she heard a jangle. “Wait a minute, Dorrie. Take these before I change my mind.”
The SUV keys sailed through the air and into her hands.
***
As Roman turned for a last look at Dorrie, a picture flashed through his mind of both of them smilingly bent over a bassinet where their sleeping child lay. A pang hit him at the realization he’d never experience such a domestic scene. He’d sold his soul for money. Too late he’d learned the meaning of love.
Instead of wallowing in emotion, he better pay attention to the squat one who groped for something on the counter. Roman stepped closer, in time to see the man lift a vial and hurl it. Before Roman could duck, the splash hit his face and dripped down his neck, engulfing wherever it touched with hot, searing pain. He stumbled back, as the acid bore deeper.
“You thought I was ugly. Wait till you see how you’ll look,” the man said, laughing.
Through his anger and terror, Roman aimed the barrel at the squat man and pulled the trigger. At sound of the painful grunt, he knew he’d hit his mark, but had no time to investigate exactly where. He must wash himself immediately.
Off balance from the pain, he bumped into the gurney and the doorway, then stumbled into the hallway. With every step the pain worsened, making him feel like ripping his face off to get relief. Already he feared he was too late, and that water would not be enough to heal him.
Whether or not the squat man had survived, it didn’t matter. He’d already exacted his revenge.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Fortunately Dorrie remembered where the wall parted to gain access to the garage. Once on the other side, she willed her body to move fast, which wasn’t easy.
Her stomach jumped so much, she wouldn’t be surprised if the baby made its appearance then and there. Given the present circumstances, it was a miracle labor hadn’t already begun. “You can do it. Stay in there, honey,” she pleaded.
She spied the silver SUV. Half expecting to hear footsteps following, she clicked the keyless entry, stumbled up and clumsily climbed aboard. The engine’s roar echoed in the almost bare garage. She reached for the visor to press the opener and the door whirred wide to reveal the dark night.
Caution bade her to concentrate and take care as she approached the guard station. Once she’d reached the booth with its bright overhead light, her knees shook. Would the horrid little man have since gained the upper hand and contacted the guard? Would she be stopped? Could she break through the gate, if she had to?
As the guard peered at her, she did her best to act nonchalant, and hoped he couldn’t tell how her breath had caught in her throat. Would he wonder why she, instead of Roman sat behind the wheel? His knit brows said she would not get off easy, so she flashed him her best commercial smile.
“Hi, Ms. Donato. Where’s Mr. Remington? You didn’t put him in the glove compartment, did you?”
She laughed at his attempt at humor. “No, Hal, Roman chose to stay. You know how he is. When he gets caught up in a project, he can’t tear himself away. He’ll likely stick around all night. Anyway, he gave me the keys and told me to get some sleep and come back in the morning.”
“No offence, but since that’s his vehicle you’re driving, protocol says I buzz him for an okay.”
Her heart hammered. “You could, but he’s so busy he probably won’t answer. He told me to leave because I was too much of a distraction.”
She shifted in the seat, enough for the guard to notice the torn seam on her dress. Batting her eyes, she said, “Roman does get carried away at times. It’s good to know he still cares, even in my condition. Of course, he should, since he got me this way.”
The guard blushed and flashed a speculative look, before reaching for the phone. “Sorry, but I have to check anyway. You understand. It’s my job.”
Dorrie bit her lip, wondering what Roman would say. Would he change his mind and order her back? His throwing away such enormous wealth out of the kindness of his heart seemed too good to be true.
The guard held onto the receiver. The minutes ticked by without an answer from Roman. “Mr. Remington, are you there? Can you pick up, please,” the guard repeated.
The back of her neck prickled as she awaited a response. Why hadn’t Roman answered? He had to have heard the call and must realize the guard would need approval to let her out.
“Voice mail won’t answer. I’ll try his cell,” the guard said, pressing speed dial.
After another few minutes, he looked up sheepishly. “I guess you’re right. He’s too busy to answer.”
Dorrie flashed another winning smile. “I suspected that would be the case. I know you’re doing your job, but it is late. May I please go? Don’t worry. I’ll return bright and early, in time for my day shift, with the SUV all in one piece. Look at it this way. He wouldn’t have given me the keys if he didn’t trust me. My Angel Man has been so kind to me, letting me take his pill and all. I’d never let him down.”
She shifted in the seat so he could again see the broken seam of her dress. That, combined with the knowing inflection in her voice, set off another blush. Her scruples had fled. It didn’t matter if he thought she and Roman were engaged in a torrid affair. Actually, it was partially true, at least for that steamy night which she vaguely remembered. One little drink had gotten her into this mess. Would her wits get her out of it?
The guard’s brows still knit in indecision.
“Look at it this way. Do you think for one minute I’d be dumb enough to steal his SUV? Don’t forget, I’ve got a plum job here, and don’t want to lose it. Besides, it’s not like he doesn’t know his way in and out of my house anyway, if you know what I mean. It’s late, and I’m awfully tired. Can I please leave?”
It wasn’t difficult t
o flash a pathetic look at the guard. The events had left her almost dead to the world, and she’d like nothing more than to collapse into bed. That option wasn’t hers, but the guard didn’t know it.
He sighed. “Okay, I’ll let you go this once. Next time I’ll require verbal or written permission.”
She flashed an appreciative smile. “Thanks. You won’t regret it. I’ll be sure to remind him of your kindness.”
Once Dorrie had passed the station, what she’d narrowly escaped sank in. Her hands trembled so badly she could barely hold onto the wheel. For the time being she was safe, but for how long?
Already, she’d wasted valuable time. Roman had held the upper hand when she’d left, but given the squat man’s intelligence, she wouldn’t put it past him to have turned the tables by now. The fact Roman had not answered the guard’s call set off a warning signal in her mind.
The horrid little man may be on the loose and after her. If so, only a small window of opportunity remained for her to retrieve her abandoned car and personal articles. Thank goodness, she always kept an extra set of keys taped to the bottom of the kitchen’s sliding door.
It seemed forever before Dorrie pulled onto her street, and parked in front of the house. Before throwing Roman’s keys under the SUV’s mat, she clicked the remote so the doors would lock when she closed hers. With trembling legs, she clambered out and onto the patio.
First things first. Before she exploded, she crossed the kitchen, and headed to the bathroom to relieve herself. Washing her hands afterward, she frowned at her disheveled appearance. She hadn’t the time to try and look decent, so she turned away from the sight. She must get on the road.
As she opened the connecting door to the garage, her heart hammered. What if her car wasn’t there, containing her purse and pills?
Taking a deep breath, she glanced into the garage. Thank God, her pretty blue Hyundai sat patiently waiting for her. Letting out a breath of relief, she waddled as fast as she could to the car door, which remained unlocked due to her hasty departure.
Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy) Page 21
