Beyond Paradise

by Barbara Nolan

  “I love you, baby,” he murmured against her ear.

  He heard the words like someone else said them. Then the realization hit. He’d said them. He waited, his heart pounding, his skin damp, his breathing choppy. Nothing.

  Maybe his admission freaked her out. Was she trying to figure out a way to let him down easy? What would she say? I love the sex, but not you? He couldn’t stand it any longer. He needed a response. Something. Propping himself on his elbow, he stared down at her. Her legs were still wound around his thighs, her hair tousled, and her eyes closed in a deep sleep. After all that, she hadn’t even heard him.

  He brushed her hair off her forehead and smiled at the woman he loved. Tomorrow, when she was sober, he would make sure she knew how much. He would tell her he loved her, ask her to move in with him and be a part of his life.

  Chapter 31

  The next morning Jonny woke before Cheryl. The sight of her all cuddled up in his bed calmed him, and with any luck, from now on he would get to enjoy this sight every morning.

  He’d hoped the ocean view from his balcony would help him sort his feelings into words, but everything sounded lame and stupid. Either too forced and stiff or too corny and dumb. He’d already drunk his way through one pot of coffee, which left him tense and jittery, and when dark rain clouds gathered, he went inside.

  Cheryl surfaced at noon, paler than the white robe she’d wrapped around her.

  “Why did you let me drink all that tequila last night?” She massaged her temples as she eased herself into the kitchen chair.

  “There was no stopping you. You and Isabelle kept pounding them down.” He handed her two Advil. “Take these and then you need to eat.”

  She crinkled her nose at the bagel and cream cheese he’d fixed for her, complete with napkin and a steaming cup of coffee.

  “This was sweet of you, but I don’t think I can eat.”

  “Try. It’ll make you feel better.” He nudged a bowl of sugar packets toward her. “If it’s not enough, we could raid a sugar factory.”

  She grinned at his teasing and tore the bagel apart. “I think I might have done or said some things last night . . .”

  “You did.”

  She tugged her hand through her tousled hair and moaned. “How bad?”

  “After I pried you off the top of the bar . . .”

  Her eyes grew wide.

  “And insisted you put your clothes on . . .”

  Her choking gasps made him take pity on her.

  “I’m kidding. Although I will agree I was the hottest guy there, and I have the biggest . . .”

  She threw up her hands and pleaded. “Please, stop.”

  “I was gonna say brain.” He laughed with her.

  Large pellets of water slapped against the glass and ricocheted off the skylights. Cheryl jumped when a loud clap of thunder rattled through the room.

  “Not good for the head,” she moaned.

  He continued to rehearse the words in his head, but nothing sounded right.

  “Why do you keep staring at me?” She furrowed her brow.

  He opened his mouth, and his heart skipped. If he didn’t say something, he would explode from sheer nerves.

  “Cheryl, I want . . .” No, bad beginning. “Cheryl, do you think . . .” What the fuck was the matter with him? Just say it, asshole. “Cheryl, will you . . .”

  His cell phone buzzed. Happy for the distraction, he fished it out of his pocket. “What’s up?”

  “How’s it going down there?” Eddie asked.

  “Making some good connections. Everybody’s onboard.” Jonny kept the incident with the cops to himself. No sense in making Eddie more nervous. “How’s everything else up there?”

  “Quiet. Nothing from Frank.”

  “How about Max?” Jonny leaned against the arm of the couch. “He calm down any?”

  “Haven’t heard from him yet today. Probably laid up with that redhead.”

  “When I get home, we find out where his loyalties run.” They’d come too far for any slip-ups now. “Jumpy is one thing, flipping sides is something else.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him.” Eddie paused. “We all good?”

  “You gotta ask?” Eddie might piss him off with all his worrying, but he always gave it to him straight.

  “All right. See you tomorrow.”

  He shoved the phone into his pocket and stared at the rain water slide down the windows in long, unending streams. The waiting and the planning paid off. The incident with the cops probably had to do with Alejandro’s shit, and now he had that straightened out too.

  He’d wait till tonight to tell Cheryl how he felt in a nice, quiet booth at Scarpetta’s overlooking the beach.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Everything all right?” Cheryl asked.

  “Yeah. Just thinking about the future.”

  A future she would love to be included in if she could find the guts to tell him about her latest secret.

  “Sometimes I feel guilty,” she said.

  “About what?”

  Where did she start? Involving him in her screwed-up life, or not telling him about a scheme to wreck him?

  “About involving you and Eddie in my problems.” She cursed herself for the generic answer. Her brain screamed words like chicken-shit and coward, but there was no good way to spin it.

  “Why don’t you go in and fill up the Jacuzzi with nice warm water?” he suggested. “It’ll help your headache.”

  Her headache worsened, but guilt cursed her more than alcohol. Now she struggled to answer him in a way he expected.

  “Only if you join me.” She leaned up and kissed him.

  Her brain screamed at her to blurt it out, but the words sounded so feeble and weak. Frank called, gave me drugs to plant on you, threatened your life, and I kept it from you.

  So many things she’d done wrong, but staying quiet when Jonny professed his love last night tore her up. She’d played it off like she’d passed out, but she heard his raspy voice so soft, so gentle. His warm breath close to her ear. She’d wanted to hold onto him and never let go. To say the same words back to him a hundred times over, but knowing how much her trust meant to him she couldn’t, wouldn’t start their relationship with a lie between them.

  “Mmmm.” He snuck his hand inside the fold of her robe. “Soaping you up and drying you off?”

  She stepped away from him and cinched her robe tighter. “Give me a few minutes before you come in. I want everything to be perfect.” She moved toward the bedroom leaving promise in her wake while her insides trembled with dread.

  “You naked in my hot tub is about as damn perfect as you can get,” Jonny called after her as she closed the bedroom door.

  She hugged the robe around her and pulled out her phone. After her betrayal, she’d expected another threatening call from Frank, but nothing. She shivered again as the rain pelted against the window. Frank’s silence unnerved her more than his threats. She wanted to be honest and unburden herself, but she’d waited all her life to be loved, and now she feared putting it all in jeopardy.

  Their first time together, she knew—maybe not that she loved him, but that he was different, and he made her feel different. He’d told her she made him want to be better, but he made her want to expect better, not settle and accept the unacceptable. He made her believe she could have goodness in her life, and if she forgot, he would remind her.

  The little zing in her heart when he said her name. The glimmer in his eyes when he teased her, and the security when he held her. How could she gamble with losing something so precious, so vital to her existence?

  Chapter 32

  Jonny switched on some lights, hating the way the storm turned the day into night when a knock on the d
oor interrupted him.

  He squinted through the peephole, gripped the doorknob, and paused. Another knock, stronger than the first rattled the door. He flipped the locks and hauled the door open.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Jonny fixed on Max’s unreadable expression, then on his rain-soaked jacket. A jacket much too heavy for the Florida heat.

  He led him into the living room. Max’s footfalls echoed behind him on the marble floor, then stopped. Jonny spun around and froze. The .45 Max leveled at him said it all.

  “It shouldn’t have come to this.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “Frank warned you so many times.” Max’s massive frame sagged, his voice a conflicted mix of anger and frustration.

  “So this is it, huh?” Jonny edged away, his hand skimming the top of the couch. “We grew up together.” The painful edge of betrayal cut through his words. “We even went to juvie together.”

  “You wouldn’t stop pushing.”

  “The night Eddie got jumped, your phone call when we were hanging out in his room.” Suddenly it all made sense. “It was Frank, huh?”

  “Yeah, it was Frank,” Max shouted. “I was in the fuckin’ middle. What was I supposed to do?”

  Frank having Max do the job really hit home. The psychotic bastard knew how to find the weakest link.

  “All your goddamn questions.” An untamable anger boiled up in Jonny and replaced the hurt.

  “I tried to make you see what the fuck you were doing.” Max waved the gun around.

  “And your friend Angel,” Jonny snapped. “How did he play into it?”

  “He was supposed to shadow you and make sure you had an accident.”

  “So how much is my life worth?”

  “It’s not about money. It’s about power,” Max barked. “How do you think I felt, being your lackey? “If I do this, Frank said he’d . . .”

  Jonny shook his head. “You stupid motherfucker, he's not gonna give you shit.”

  Max paused, weighing his words.

  “Just like Brutus and Caesar.” Jonny side-stepped around the couch.

  “What?” Max clutched the gun in a white-knuckled fist.

  “Caesar got too ambitious, and Cassius didn’t like Caesar’s new popularity, so he sent Brutus, Caesar’s trusted friend, to kill him.”

  “Stop talking shit.” Max jerked at the collar of his shirt.

  “Brutus felt justified. Is that how you feel, Max? Justified?” He needed to keep Max talking so he could get closer.

  “Quit moving around,” Max warned, raising the gun higher.

  The storm raged louder, and Max flinched when thunder rumbled, and gales of wind slapped rain against the windows.

  Jonny’s biggest fear centered on Cheryl coming into the room. What’s the matter, Max? Not as easy as you thought it would be?”

  Unarmed in a gun fight, Jonny would lose. His street fighting days taught him distraction and deception worked best. Fool them into thinking you were easing up, then take your shot.

  “Jonny?”

  Max spun around to the sound of Cheryl’s voice, but kept the gun trained on him.

  Cheryl, entering the room in one of the skimpy negligees he’d bought her, was not the diversion he’d hoped for. He cut her a look that said, Get the hell outta here.

  She flicked her hand at Max. “What’s he doing here waving a gun around?”

  “Everything was fine until she came along,” Max growled. “Fucking your brains out, filling your head with shit.”

  Jonny needed to force his fear down and use this horrible twist to their advantage.

  “C’mon, can you blame me?” Jonny threw his palms up and advanced two steps. “I mean, is she not the most fuckable piece of ass you’ve ever seen?”

  Cheryl loosened the satin ribbons of the bustier crisscrossed under her breasts, and without missing a beat she played Max with nerves of steel beneath her teasing grin. All her years of running cons might just keep them alive.

  Max stared and licked his lips. The muscles in his back tightened, and the gun wavered.

  “Picture those tits and that ass in a bikini.” Jonny kept the right amount of sleaze in his voice, while his insides churned. “Did I ever tell you how much she likes threesomes?”

  “That’s because she’s a fuckin’ slut ready to sell you out. Max sneered. “Didn’t tell you about that, did she?”

  Jonny stiffened. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Frank called her right after you got down here. Offered her a sweet deal.”

  Jonny moved his gaze to Cheryl. “Did Frank call you?”

  The guilt etched across her face floored him.

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “Shut up, you fuckin’ whore,” Max yelled.

  “Jonny, let me explain,” Cheryl pleaded.

  “Frank called you?” Being held at gunpoint meant nothing now. “You set me up?”

  “Nooo,” she wailed.

  “What do you think of your little whore now?” Max waved the gun in her direction.

  Jonny’s mind blanked, a fist squeezing his heart.

  Once again she’d played him, and he fell for it. Nothing mattered anymore. Another bolt of lightning flashed through the apartment, followed by a room-shaking clap of thunder. The lights flickered for a second, and Jonny sprung from the side. He grabbed Max’s wrist, yanked hard, and drove his foot against the outside of his knee. A pop and a grunt of pain as Max hunched over and staggered back two steps.

  Another boom of thunder rattled through the room, but Jonny barely heard it. His focus shrunk to include Max and the gun. When Max relaxed his hand, and let the gun point to the floor, Jonny lunged. He realized his mistake a split second too late. Distraction and deception. He’d never forget the smirk on Max’s face.

  A loud crack, Cheryl’s scream, heavy shoes on the stone floor, then a burning heaviness spread through Jonny's midsection. The buzzing in his head made him stumble and slump onto the couch. His heart pounded hard, then slowed. Sweaty and cold at the same time. He wanted to say something, but the dark red stain on his shirt entranced him. He pressed his hand against it, and his fingers were covered with the warm stickiness of his own blood.

  Cheryl kneeled in front of him. “Jonny, stay with me!”

  So many thoughts flew through his brain, but he couldn’t form the words.

  “Hang on,” she pleaded.

  He searched her face for anything that would take away a pain much worse than the one in his gut. But when her guard dropped for a fast second, the hard truth shone through, and now his brain zeroed in on one thing. She’d sold him out. His vision blurred like one of those cheesy movies with the dream sequences. Yeah, that’s it. This was a dream. A big, bad fuckin’ dream.

  Chapter 33

  “It’s fuckin’ crazy out there.” Eddie jerked his thumb to the entrance of Miami General where reporters jockeyed for position, all trying the get the latest juicy story on the high-profile shooting.

  “I know.” Cheryl’s gaze darted behind Eddie, grateful for the hospital policy of restricting reporters.

  “How’s he doing?” Eddie embraced her, and she held onto him, desperate for support and comfort. They’d called and texted furiously before Eddie boarded the red-eye from New York.

  “He made it through surgery, and they’ve moved him to ICU, but the doctor said it could go either way.” Saying the words drained her, but she gathered herself together and relayed the doctor’s words. “The bullet ruptured an artery in his abdomen. He lost a lot of blood, and the next twenty-four hours are critical.”

  “Fuck.” Eddie stepped away from her, flexed his fists a few times, and swiped the visitor’s sign off the information desk.

 
The two elderly ladies manning the desk gasped in shock, and the gray-haired security guard hurried over, fixing a stern glare on Eddie. “Is there a problem here?” he asked, puffing out his chest while trying to suck in the fifty pounds that proceeded him.

  Eddie threw up his hands in apology. “I’m sorry, man.” He bent to retrieve the sign.

  “He got some bad news.” Cheryl stepped between them.

  “We don’t allow those kinds of outbursts here, son.” The guard backed off when Eddie straightened to his six-foot-three height of solid muscle.

  Eddie righted the sign, but the two women were still staring, so he dug in his pocket, peeled off a fifty, and placed it on their desk. “Have lunch on me tomorrow, ladies.”

  Cheryl tugged at Eddie’s forearm and led him down the hall into a private sitting area away from prying eyes. She motioned to one of the chairs. “Now sit and calm down.”

  He stood by the chair but didn’t sit. “I’m fine. Just tell me again what happened.”

  The storm raging outside, Max holding a gun on Jonny, it seemed like a weird joke until she’d seen Max’s dead, cold expression.

  After that, the minutes alternated between speeding by and slow motion. But nothing prepared her for the up-close, ear-splitting sound of gunfire, or the sight of Jonny slumped on the couch clutching his stomach, his hands covered in blood. Max stood there at first, not moving, looking as terrified as her. Then he half limped, half ran out of the condo. She’d frantically called 9-1-1, then waited for an eternity.