The Danger You Know

by Lily White

  “Hear me out, Ari. Her life is already at risk unless you plan on keeping her in your penthouse for the rest of her life.”

  I’d considered it. It wasn’t a bad plan. Sure she might get bored every so often, but I could pack her in the car, drive her around town, let her see the sights, maybe allow her to crack the window just a bit so she gets some fresh air.

  Lincoln must have intuited what I was thinking. “Give it up, Ari. It’s not a good plan, and you know it.”

  Silence falls again, my jaw ticking like a fucking bomb. “What’s your idea?”

  “She goes to the cops. Creates a big media storm about it, given how everybody in this city knows of her abduction. Adeline can tell them her husband nearly beat her to death and she ran away for her own safety. It’ll piss off Grant, make him want to shut her up, but it will also back off anybody looking to take him up on the offer to kill her. At least for a couple months. Nobody will want to touch that while she’s in the public eye. You know it, and I know it. Three million isn’t enough for that high a risk.”

  Pursuing my lips, I hate to think he’s right. If I were hired to do the job, I’d wait until the media frenzy died down, take her out quietly and stage it as something else.

  “Grant won’t be able to handle it,” I say. “He’ll want something done to her immediately.”

  Lincoln nods. “Which means he’ll try to do it himself.”

  “Bringing him to a place where he’ll want to be alone,” I finish for him. “Fuck. This pisses me off, but you’re right.”

  My eyes stay locked on Adeline. Risking her is so far outside my comfort zone that my shoulders tense at the thought of it.

  “What do you think?” I ask her, my voice cautious. She’d just started fighting again, just started finding herself beneath the wreckage that Grant left of her.

  I hate to think exposing her this much would send her running back to the safety of her scared bunny shell.

  Her blue eyes meet mine. “Where would I go after the police?”

  “Home,” Lincoln answers for me. Adeline’s stare doesn’t waver from mine, though. She’s looking to me for strength, for the promise of my protection.

  “I’ll watch you the entire time,” I promise.

  She smiles at that. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “We’ll just call the past few years practice for what we have to do now.”

  “Well, shit, you two aren’t leaving me out of this equation,” Lincoln grumbles. “Guess we’ll take shifts like old times.”

  “I’ll need a week at least to prepare,” I say, looking at him. “You can escort her to the police since Grant won’t recognize you. And while you’re doing that, I’ll head to Adeline’s house to wait.”

  Adeline’s voice draws my attention back to her. “Do you think he’ll show up the first night?”

  “No,” I answer with confidence. “Grant is too smart for that. He’ll wait a week or so.”

  “And I’ll be alone at my house for that amount of time?”

  “Not while Grant’s alive, no. But you’ll start putting your life back together in the meantime. Get new furniture. You can have the instruments from here, if you want. I can’t play them.”

  Something unsaid flickers behind her gaze. I want nothing more than to hold her down and demand she tell me everything she’s thinking, but I don’t.

  It’s an eventuality that Adeline will return home and build a life for herself. I was never guaranteed to be a part of the equation. Not after she learns the truth of how I know her.

  It kills me to think that despite all the promises I made myself about refusing to let her go, it’s what I’ll do in the end. Especially if it’s what’s best for her.

  But not before I annoy the shit out of her some more and draw out the person she once had been. A few weeks tops and she’ll be back to giving the world the finger.

  It’s too bad I’ll be part of that world.

  “Then it’s settled.”

  I don’t like it. Hate it, actually. But if it removes the threat to Adeline, I’m willing to go along with it. Plus, Grant and I have an appointment with fate. The sooner I get to him, the better.

  “One week,” Lincoln agrees. “Do what you have to do, and I’ll -“

  “What if they don’t believe me?”

  We both turn at Adeline’s voice, scared blue eyes staring back at us. “The cops, I mean. My injuries are almost healed. In a week, you’ll barely be able to see the discoloration. What if they don’t believe Grant almost killed me?”

  “They won’t,” I answer. “It’ll be a he said/she said situation. Which is why Grant won’t be arrested immediately. Perfect for us. Not so much for him.”

  “Then why tell them about what he did?”

  My brow cocks in question. “I don’t follow.”

  What the hell was the little monster getting at now?

  Spinning over the bench, Adeline faces us both, her shoulders rounding back as her spine straightens. I see the faint glow of her wild spirit glimmering behind her eyes, the hint of a mischief in her expression.

  “I may not know all my husband’s business dealings. And I may have been blind to the fact he was apparently fucking his secretary. But I do know my husband is a jealous son of a bitch, and if you want to piss him off to the point of murder, the best way to do it is to embarrass him. He’ll claim I’m lying about what he did, and most will believe him. He has influence, money. You know how that is. It’ll be swept under the rug.”

  “Your point?” Lincoln asks.

  Shrugging a shoulder, Adeline smiles. “Grant will brush off the abuse claim by pointing out a lack of evidence.”

  I sit forward to brace my elbows against my knees. “There is evidence. Your blood was all over that room.”

  Blue eyes snap to me. “But wouldn’t it be a better story that he caught me in bed with another man? That a fight occurred because of it. And that I left him for Harrison Nash? I know Grant well enough to know his ego can’t handle that. You want me to be who I used to be, right?”

  Hesitantly, I nod my head.

  “Then why resurface as a victim? Why not resurface as a girl who was quick to ditch her boring fuck of a husband to move on to the next guy? Not only does that hit him where it really hurts, his precious ego, but it also does away with any police investigation, which means Grant doesn’t have to wait as long to come after me.”

  My lips curl at the appearance of the Adeline I used to know.

  “There will still be an investigation. Grant claimed a home invasion.”

  Her smile widens. “Only to cover up his embarrassment of being second choice to you. That’s his problem. And it will only piss him off more. Embarrass him more.”

  Sitting back, I scratch my jaw and stare at the devious creature in front of me.

  Is it wrong that my first thought is I want to bend her over the side of that bench and fuck the mischief right out of her?

  “Actually, that’s a damn good idea.”

  My head snaps to Lincoln.

  “It still creates the spectacle, which will keep any contracted killers at bay, but Grant won’t be able to sit back and let it happen. He’ll want blood for the bruise to his ego.”

  Oh. The Grant thing is what he meant. Not the fucking. For a second I wondered if the asshole can read minds.

  His brown eyes meet mine. “It appears the little monster is back.”

  Which means he needs to leave.

  Now.

  I’ve always wanted to play with her when she’s like this.

  Pushing to my feet, I turn to Lincoln. “We have a plan. One week and we’ll start the process. Not much more we can do tonight.”

  Mouth cocking into a grin, he lifts his gaze to mine. “Guess that’s my cue to leave.”

  More like an order. Either he walks out willingly, or I toss him. Both options are fine with me.

  Taking the hint, Lincoln stands from the couch, chucks Adeline beneath the chin with his fing
er in a big brother gesture as he passes her, and takes too fucking long to casually stroll from the penthouse to leave.

  The hum of the elevator’s motor hasn’t stopped before I turn to Adeline, a surge of pride inside me to see her gaze lift to mine with strength behind it rather than the broken look she’s given me for the past few weeks.

  “I’ve always admired your devious nature.”

  A hesitant smile pulls at her lips. “Wish I could say the same for how I feel about you.”

  Stepping up to her, I grip her chin and tip her face up to mine. “You’re welcome to admire my nature as well.”

  “And what nature is that?”

  “The kind that’s watched out for you for a long time now. I may have fucked up ways of doing it, but the intent was always the same. To protect you.”

  She blinks at that, dark lashes falling over blue eyes that have haunted me since the first night I saw them.

  “Just tell me your name. Give me that. It won’t mean I’ll excuse everything else and forget about it. I still want to know other things. But for now, at least let me know that much about you.”

  I was already giving up more than she realized by agreeing to the plan she put in place against Grant. Once my face was made public, my career in this city was done. Unless of course, there is a way to pull this off without my mug being in front of all the cameras.

  “My name is Sean Hayden.”

  Surprise widens her eyes, and something worse than that.

  Hope.

  For what, I can’t be entirely sure, but I have my suspicions. And she has no idea how quickly that emotion will be crushed beneath the truth I have yet to tell her.

  “Where does Ari come from? Is it just another made up name like Harrison?”

  “No. It’s short for my middle name.”

  “Which is?”

  I grin. “That, I never tell. Only my parents know it.”

  I can see more questions racing through that insane mind of hers. But before she can ask them, I guide her to her feet and look down at a monster that will most likely destroy me in the end.

  “You need sleep.”

  Her complaint falls on deaf ears. “The sun has barely gone down.”

  My mouth tugs at the corner. “Yes, but by the time I’m done making sure you sleep soundly through the night, it’ll be well into the early morning hours.”

  Adeline can hate me all she wants, but she can’t hide her reaction to that sensual promise.

  “Fine, Sean. But you’ll have to catch me first,” she taunts before taking off at a run toward the back hallway.

  Somehow, she manages to miss all the broken glass on her way.

  I’ll still spank her ass for risking it.

  And for calling me Sean.

  Adeline

  The next week passes slowly. I’m not exactly sure why. It probably has something to do with the anxious nerves that keep building with each passing day, the majority of those days spent by myself while Ari deals with what he needs to out of the penthouse.

  Every night he spends in my bed, or drags me to his. But in the mornings, I wake up alone, the heat from where he’d barely slept absent from the mattress.

  Still, his scent lingers, and when I wake up this morning, I pull his pillow to my side to wrap my arm around it and bury my face against the cool linen that smells like every woman’s fantasy.

  Daylight shines brightly in through the window, my stomach twisting instantly because I remember this is my last day in the penthouse.

  Tomorrow, I’ll turn myself in to the police, explain I was out of state and didn’t see the news broadcasts, and then laugh it all off with the explanation that I left Grant for another man, and I’ve been happily shacked up with him for the past month.

  Which isn’t exactly a lie. Not even the happily part. And that’s been bothering me the most.

  Ari hasn’t given me any more information about how he knows me and why he’d been stalking me all these years. He’s too focused on the situation with Grant, the typical teasing humor missing behind his eyes when he comes back after whatever it is he does all day.

  By the time he returns, there something dark about him that concerns me. I often wonder if this is what he’s like when planning for a kill, if this is the man he doesn’t want me to know for fear that I’ll run.

  Rather than questioning him about it, I let him take me into his arms and work out whatever frustration he’s feeling on my body.

  I haven’t slept this well for so many days in a row ever in my life.

  He’s the shadow that comforts me.

  The demon that claimed me as his own while punishing those who tried to hurt me.

  I do admire that aspect of his nature, even for how aggravating it is, but still, I don’t understand why he chose me. I’m not sure I ever will.

  With that annoying thought in mind, I get out of bed, get a shower and get dressed. It’s already late afternoon, which surprises me. Normally, I’m up at the crack of dawn, but I’ve been sleeping so well that my circadian rhythm is haywire. But the bags under my eyes are completely gone now, my skin back to its usual porcelain complexion, free of ugly blue and green bruises that faded to yellow before disappearing entirely.

  Staring in the mirror, I realize I look young again. My hair is still cut in a style I can’t stand, but it will grow out.

  It’s a little shocking to see myself now compared to what I’d looked like before escaping my husband.

  The stress of being Grant’s wife had sucked the life out of me, was aging me a year for every month I was married to him.

  I have Ari to thank for reminding me who I was before falling victim to a controlling husband. And I guess I owe it to him to do something with the life he’s handed back to me, even if I doubt he’ll be in it.

  Not because of me, of course. I want to explore the man who has been nothing but a mystery since the day he stepped into my life. I just get the feeling Ari plans on walking away once he knows I’m safe again.

  Just thinking about it hurts. So much so that I refuse to talk to him about it, refuse to so much as broach the topic because I don’t want to spend my last hours in his penthouse knowing that, when I leave here, I’ll be returning to a life I live alone.

  I’m sure there will be boyfriends and maybe even another husband someday.

  I’ll still be alone because Ari is the only person I’ve ever known who is interested in what I see when I sleep. Every night he asks me what I dream, and every night I answer him because I believe it actually matters to him to know that side of me.

  Losing that...I can’t begin to think what it will be like to go back to the girl who’s afraid to talk for fear of what people will think of her.

  But it is what it is. I’m regaining myself and that’s all I can do.

  Walking into the living room of the penthouse, I run my fingers over the piano keys as I pass it by, my bare feet padding over the wood floor. The wall of windows let me look out onto a city I haven’t seen up close for almost a month now, my eyes tracking the people strolling down sidewalks, the food vendors with their steaming carts, the cars in gridlock traffic now that the workday is done and people can return home to their families.

  I’ve spent hours looking out across the buildings over the past few days wondering where Ari is and if he’s part of the chaos of the city below me.

  It’s like playing a game of Where’s Waldo that I’ll never win, a game that ends tomorrow morning when I leave this place to return to my old house full of its ghosts and bad memories.

  Gah! I can’t stand it, and I can’t stand the silence surrounding me now.

  Heading over to Ari’s stereo, I run my eyes over the myriad of flashing buttons that I have no clue do what, eventually hitting one that brings the system to life, speakers set in the walls throughout the entire room blaring the same song Ari played when he revealed this room to me for the first time.

  The lyrics are far too poignant at the moment, too real,
too close a description for how I think of him, that I hit a button to go to the next song, laughter shaking my shoulders when Nine Inch Nail’s Something I Can Never Have blasts through the speakers.

  That son of a bitch has my entire playlist cued up, one song after the other. I’m not surprised, though, given everything else he’s stolen from me.

  Talk about depressing. Listening as the first notes of the song roll through the room, I’m beginning to wonder if it isn’t my music that had me spinning so far out of control back then.

  But still, it takes me back to the nights I used to party, and I eye the wet bar Ari has set up on a far wall, my bottom lip pulling between my teeth when I think fuck it and decide to have some fun while Ari’s gone.

  One drink won’t hurt.

  While the haunting piano melody of the song plays and the singer’s pained voice begins crooning the lyrics, I traipse over to the bar to grab a bottle of vodka, then run to the kitchen to find cranberry juice in the fridge.

  At first, I reach for a small glass in the cabinet then tilt my head, chew my lip, and another fuck it moment happens when I grab a tall glass and fill it one third with vodka and the rest cranberry.

  The bitter taste bursts across my tongue on a rush of memory, the nights I’d spent dancing until sweat dripped down my skin, my hair wild around my head, my cheeks hurting from how wide I smile.

  Turning, I watch the sunlight expand across the horizon in a spectrum of color, the reds, orange and deep pink painting the sky as lights flicker on in the buildings, the city preparing for night.

  It’s just one thought, really, just one that has me racing across the room to turn off the lights, the scenery outside the window the only illumination. And as one song transitions into another, I dance in front of the window, my drink sloshing in the glass, my mind lost to the easy movement of my body in front of an entire audience beneath me who will never see what I’m doing.

  Another song comes on that I love.

  Another and another and another.

  I’m on my third drink by the time Common People by Pulp plays through the speakers, my lips stretching into an grin as I dance to the beat of it, memories of Black Orchid and all the other clubs running through my head.