Untraceable

by Lindsay Delagair

  She smiled as she took her fingertips and brushed her lips, remembering the sensation of his mouth covering hers, and the force of his tongue as he claimed her. “Mmm,” she purred, the tingle from the memory rolled up from somewhere deep inside. She wanted another kiss. She wanted him taking ownership of her—and she wanted it now.

  Micah said it was too soon to be seen together and that Atlantic City was the wrong place for their next meeting, but she didn’t care.

  “I want to show you your new home,” she said as if he was a pet that she was about to purchase.

  “I have a home—in Louisiana.”

  “Fine. Then I’ll show you your new home for when you’re running things here, and then we’ll fly to Louisiana and you can show me your place.” She could hear his frustration mounting in the silence. She smiled and continued, sinking the hook deep in his skin, “You did want me to turn her loose today, didn’t you? You’ve fulfilled your end of the bargain; I want you to know that I intend to keep my end of it. You did promise to stay if I didn’t cross you—you meant that, right? Or have you decided to ruin the rest of her life? The game ends when you stop hurting her.”

  “No more games. If Giovanni does what you tell him—and he hasn’t hurt her—I’ll stay.”

  “He’s promised me that she is unharmed—he’s simply waiting on my phone call and then she’ll be safe…forever. Without you in her life, the mafia has no interest in her.”

  “Where do you want to meet?”

  “Ocean Club condominium in Atlantic City. Where are you? I’ll arrange a flight.”

  “Where I’m at is none of your business. I’ll arrange my own flight and be there in four or five hours.”

  She sighed, but smiled, “Still stubborn—you know that stubborn streak of yours is something I find highly attractive.” He didn’t respond, so she continued, “Don’t eat. We’ll have lunch, make the call and then spend the rest of the day and night celebrating her release and our future Family merger.”

  “Maybe.”

  She didn’t like that remark. She wasn’t about to come this far and have him change his mind. “You know I’m not one to usually say this kind of thing, but you truly have impressed me.”

  “Why? Because I made a bloody mess out of both hits?”

  “No, of course not,” she stated as if the hits were no longer of any importance. “I just never figured you for the noble type, sacrificing what you so selfishly wanted and took,” she reminded him, “only to turn around and give them a chance for a real life.” She wore a wicked blissful smile as she finished, “I never thought you actually cared enough about them to let go.”

  He hung up on her.

  She laughed; breaking a man was so much fun!

  Micah made it to ACY by noon, but not because he was anxious to see Sharon; he wanted to hear her make that call. He wanted Leese to be free. When she was completely out of Giovanni’s grasp and truly safe, he’d call David and tell him where to find her. He would ask his mother to arrange a new life for Leese, and that new life would take her to Nova Scotia with Nadia, Kimmy, and David.

  Sharon was right: he needed to step out of Leese’s life before any more disasters happened. As soon as he knew she was out of the country and out of harm’s way, Micah was going to settle all these problems, once and for all. Leese wouldn’t be happy—not for a while anyway—but she and their son would have a better life without him. And as for the plotting little seductress who suddenly wanted to share her empire, she would soon wish she’d never even heard the name Micah Gavarreen.

  Although Sharon called Atlantic City home, he knew her actual sphere of mafia influence was thin in the area. Her Families main influence was farther south. This was one of those ‘overlapping’ areas where the Capo dei Capi controlled the majority of the activity, but Sharon’s Family had a few business interests in the area that they were permitted to operate.

  It was Vitale Moretti and his father who had been the reason for the Capo dei Capi’s tolerance. They had been friends long ago with Caprizio’s father and grandfather. When the lower east coast began to grow, Caprizio’s Grandfather made a deal with Moretti’s father which allowed the formation of a new Family. Naturally, as did all the Families, percentages of income were given to the Capo dei Capi to ensure their continued survival. Most of the Families looked upon Caprizio as the Internal Revenue Service of sorts within the mafia. As long as you paid what you owed them, they were happy to allow you to work and earn. If you tried to cheat them, they’d take more than just your assets, they’d take your life—mafia audits were pure hell.

  Micah was positive that Sharon didn’t want Caprizio to know she ordered her father’s execution. She would certainly say it was Micah’s means of ‘getting back at her’ for taking Leese (which he doubted she told him who she was plotting to kidnap in the first place). Even Botachelli’s assassination might come into question if she played it right. She could say she had been arranging a deal with Botachelli and that made him a target. She could literally get away with two huge murders, but she wouldn’t; Micah was going to make sure of that. When the time was right, her dirty deeds would be fully exposed. Micah would be made righteous or dead, both were a possibility.

  He wasn’t positive, but he had a good idea what Sharon might have promised Caprizio for helping with her plan. He was still thinking about that puzzle. It had to be monetary because he wouldn’t stoop to have sex with an old friend’s daughter—that just wouldn’t be apropos. Sharon wouldn’t care of course; Micah was pretty sure she had no qualms about sleeping with anyone, but Caprizio would.

  His thoughts paused briefly as he pushed the button for the elevator to open. He didn’t like being here on Moretti home turf. He didn’t like being with Sharon because she constantly reminded him that he was the source of Leese’s problems.

  A grandmother and her four young grandchildren approached to get on the elevator as well. It was obvious that they had spent the morning on the beach. The children were pink from a little too much sun and they had beach sand stuck all over them. They noisily clamored around him as they waited for the doors to open.

  The littlest one was dragging his soggy towel on the floor and telling his grandmother how hungry he was. Micah guessed he was three or four. He had salt-water tousled brown hair and beautiful green eyes. A sharp pain stabbed at his chest as he realized that his own son would probably look similar when he reached that age. In his oblivion while staring at the child, he didn’t notice that the elevator doors opened. Suddenly, without hesitation, the little boy reached up and took Micah’s hand.

  “Come on,” he said in his little voice, pulling Micah into the open space.

  “Daniel, leave that nice man alone. He probably doesn’t want your sandy hand,” the grandmother said rather sternly.

  Micah felt a lump rise in his throat as he allowed the child to lead him. “No, he’s fine,” he finally managed to say. The woman chatted for four floors, but Micah wasn’t paying attention as the little boy continued to hold his hand until the doors opened and they were stepping out.

  “Come on,” the little boy encouraged, tugging again on Micah’s hand, “Come home wiff us.” The other children giggled as he tried to get the big stranger off the elevator.

  Micah put his free hand out so that the door wouldn’t try to close, “I’m sorry, I can’t,” he said, offering a soft smile to the child, “This isn’t where I belong. I have to go somewhere else.”

  “Daniel let go,” his grandmother said, and then apologized to Micah.

  She pulled him and he reluctantly allowed his hand to slip from Micah’s. Just before the doors closed, he watched the little boy turn and wave goodbye.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about what he said to the little boy, ‘This isn’t where I belong. I have to go somewhere else.’ He may have stepped into Leese’s world and fathered a child, but it wasn’t where he belonged. Before the doors opened on the thirty-third floor, he closed his eyes and prayed that in a few
minutes Leese and his son would be free from Sharon, from Giovanni, and from him.

  It was a magnificent view from the outer corridor of the top floor. He paused on the walkway and let the Atlantic breeze flood his senses. He needed a minute to compose. He didn’t want her to see how thoroughly she had broken his spirit. By the time he walked to her door, he was in control, unemotional, and ready to get this over with.

  She was, naturally, happy to see him. Her condo was impressive even if he wasn’t in the mood to be impressed. Hers was the top floor and the ceiling rose two stories above him. There was a circular staircase that led to the upper floor and miles and miles of ocean views from every grand window. Most of the furnishings were white, but there were some exceptionally pale blue cushions tossed here and there for a little color, and clean lines were everywhere. The kitchen was an open plan and the counters were classic white and gray marble. She had her balcony doors open and a table set up for lunch outside.

  She smiled as she watched him take in his surroundings, “So, do you like it?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Stubborn,” she said somewhat under her breath, but it didn’t dim the smile. “Let me show you my bedroom,” she winked at him.

  “Make the call.”

  “Take me to bed first,” she taunted him. “It’ll take off the tension beforehand.”

  “No. Make the call.”

  “I don’t want you leaving.”

  “We’ll discuss that later. Make the call.” He could see those little wheels turning furiously once again just behind her amber eyes.

  “Kiss me, Micah—kiss me like you did before you left for New Orleans—and then I’ll make the call.”

  He could tell she was up to something.

  She placed her phone on the kitchen countertop and laced her arms around his neck, “Show me that passion you hide as well as your emotions. Make me,” she uttered as distance between their lips began to erase and her voice became soft and husky, “feel how badly you want her freedom.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes. She had no idea, but her perfume choice for the day was making this just a little too easy for him. She was wearing Escada, Leese’s favorite. The kiss was long and sensual, deep and sultry. Never opening his eyes, his mouth trailed from her lips to her throat, biting, kissing, and suckling her skin as he tucked her tighter against himself. He felt her knees giving out as he held her up.

  “Micah, oh Micah,” she whimpered, lifting his chin and seeking his lips for another kiss, “baby, don’t stop,” she begged as kiss number two ensued, deeper and hotter than the first; her body was now quivering with desire. His kiss was raw alpha-male power that demanded every ounce of her concentration and total surrender; her knees gave out completely as he crushed her into himself.

  “I—I can’t—can’t breathe,” she said in tiny gasps. “I want you so bad—anything you want, anything I have. I’m—I’m—”

  He was back for kiss number three, pausing her words, “Anything?” he hissed softly as the kiss ended, and his hips thrust hard against her groin.

  “Umm-hmm,” she managed to get out, fighting the lightheadedness that was taking over as he ignited every cell in her body. She was on fire like she’d never been on fire in her life. “Mmm,” she moaned again. “I—I love you.”

  He pulled back as if he’d been slapped.

  “No,” she cried out, “Don’t stop, please! You know we’re right for each other. What’s wrong with me loving you?”

  “You said I could have anything I wanted.”

  She nodded furiously, “Just don’t leave.”

  “Make the damn call—that’s what I want.” He let her go and stepped away.

  Her knees were still weak as she gripped the barstool beside her for balance and picked up her phone with trembling fingers. “When I call him,” she said, obviously getting back to the plan she had before his kiss stripped her of her brain cells, “it will take him a little while for him to get her home. I’ll tell him to have her call you from her house phone so you know she made it safely.”

  “Home?” he questioned, wondering what she was talking about. “You said you’d have him take her to an airport.”

  “Why Micah? Why, when she’s only two hours from West Palm Beach?” A smile spread on her face.

  If he’d had been standing next to a wall he would have banged his head into it! First rule of hiding someone; whenever possible, pick a place so obvious that no one would even consider looking there. Damn it! He never went to the property; she never left it the day she met Giovanni there!

  “I was against the idea of him using the house on the other side of the lake, but he said he was certain you didn’t know about it, and once you thought she was dead, he said you’d never go there anyway.”

  “Son-of-a-bitch,” he growled, she’d been within his reach the whole time; he just didn’t know it!

  She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the balcony. I’ll make the call, we’ll have a glass of wine, and a bite to eat, but for however long it takes him to get her home, I want you in my bed. I don’t plan on letting you rush out the door as soon as I hang up.”

  For the next two hours, he would be her toy once again until the final call came in from Leese herself.

  Sharon’s expression was blissful as she stood beside him on the balcony and waited for Giovanni to answer. He watched her expression sour as he heard the call ring twice and then go to voicemail.

  That was interesting.

  He knew if the phone had been off or if Giovanni had been on a call, voicemail would have picked up immediately. Three or four rings would have meant he simply didn’t answer, but two rings and then voicemail? Giovanni must have silenced the call. Micah drew Sharon against himself as she called Giovanni again. She grinned, mistaking his move as being sexual when he simply wanted to hear what would happen as she called him a second time. It took him three rings to answer.

  The volume was sufficiently high that he could hear what was said as Giovanni called her ‘puttana,’ which in Italian was the same as calling her a bitch, slut, or a whore.

  “You will never speak to me that way you sorry, impotent, Italian bastard. I will—”

  He heard Giovanni laugh and say that she couldn’t have everything her wicked heart desired. But the next words cut as deeply as if someone had just placed a scalpel to his throat and sliced open his jugular vein.

  “She is mine now; you have no say over what I do with her.”

  Sharon began again, threatening that she would tell her men to kill him.

  “They are dead; all of them, as I am sure you will also be in a few seconds because I know he is right beside you and can hear every—”

  Sharon didn’t struggle when Micah pulled the phone from her hand. There was nothing quite like being in the grasp of a lethal human—a human you’d toyed with and tortured far too many times; her face was now devoid of any color.

  “I swear I’ll kill you if—”

  “Hello Micah.”

  He heard Leese yelling something to him, the sound of a struggle, and then nothing but silence. The call had ended.

  Unexpectedly, Sharon slapped his hand hard and quick, knocking her phone from his grasp and sending it into the air, over the rail, and on a thirty-three story drop to the cement below.

  His reaction was immediate as he went for her throat.

  “I—I—know—his—number,” she stuttered before the power in his grip could choke off her airway.

  He realized she was trying to save her own skin; not a half bad reaction on her part, he considered. As long as she still possessed something he needed, she’d live a little bit longer.

  He gripped her arm too firmly and then jerked her inside the condo. She was wincing under his hold as he pulled his phone from his pocket; he wasn’t about to let her send his sailing over the rail. “Tell me his number, now.”

  She was reaching for his phone, but he pulled it away. “You’re not get
ting your hands on it. What’s the number?”

  “I—I’ll dial it.”

  “I have a photographic memory; I don’t need you to dial it, only to speak it. Say it now!” he demanded so fiercely that she began to tremble.

  She closed her eyes, either trying to remember the number or afraid to see if he would pull his guns immediately after she uttered it. She whispered out the numbers.

  Without delay, he dialed it to see if she was telling the truth. Four rings and it went to voicemail; it was Giovanni’s voicemail, so she had told him the truth. He then dialed the number he knew belonged to ‘Jonathan’ before this whole mess began. He’d tried this when he found out who Sharon had holding Leese, but it always went to voicemail. This time the recorded message stated the number was no longer in service.

  “Stupid bitch!” he thundered.

  Her eyes blinked open, fire flashing, as she tried to strike him over his remark. Not the wisest thing to do in his current state of mind.

  Within a second, he had her arms twisted behind her, held immobile by one of his, his other arm around her neck in a choke hold as he moved her out to the balcony railing.

  She was gasping and crying, “No,” for all she was worth as he lifted her body up.

  “Shooting you is too easy, Sharon—that’s just a little too quick. You need a few seconds to think about what you’ve done to my wife, my son, and me.”

  “No, no, please, please, Micah, no,” she implored as she realized his intention was to throw her over the railing.

  He pushed her body farther away from his and then held her, suspended a fraction of an inch from death. He kept thinking about Leese. He kept thinking about his promise. He kept thinking how he didn’t want to be the man he used to be anymore. He pulled her back to safety and turned her to face him. “I guess you’re lucky that you aren’t worth a broken promise!” he rumbled and then let her crumple to a pile on the floor.