by Nika Rhone
Bernice didn’t move. “Not the whole building. Just your apartment.”
“Which is connected to the rest of the building, and is, guess what? Right over this one.” She gave Cris another shake, but his head just lolled to the side. This wasn’t right. “Cris?” She fought back a pinch of panic. “What’s wrong with him?”
Rather than answer, Bernice was looking at the open window, an expression of annoyance on her face. “I can’t believe I forgot about the stupid fire escape.”
“What? Bernice, focus. Something’s wrong with Cris, and we need to get him up and all of us out of here before we turn into crispy critters. Now!” She tugged on Cris’s arm, trying to get him to the edge of the bed. He moaned and mumbled incoherently. “Bernice, dammit, get over here and help me!”
“We’re not at work, bitch. You can’t tell me what to do.”
Lillian snapped her head around to stare at her, dumbfounded. “Seriously? You’re gonna cop an attitude now?”
“Why couldn’t you have just stayed where you were supposed to? Why do you always have to ruin everything for me?”
“Ruin everything?” What bizarro dimension had she fallen into? “What the ever-freakin’ hell are you talking…” Oh. Oh, no. Oh holy, holy hell. This was not happening. “Bernice? What did you do?” She had to be wrong. She had to.
“What did I do?” She gave a crazed laugh. “No, it’s what you’ve done. Which is everything you can to keep me from getting what I want. What I deserve. You cheated me!”
“Out of what?”
“How about my job, for starters. I should’ve been the one Felix promoted to assistant manager, not you. I should’ve been the boss.”
Yep, definitely an alternate dimension. Felix had spoken to Bernice more than once about ruffling customers’ feathers with her too-bold personality. There was no way he’d even consider her for a sales position, much less a managerial one.
Not that she would tell the crazy lady that.
“I’m not assigning blame here, but wouldn’t that make it Felix you should be pissed at, not me?” Lillian gave Cris’s arm a pinch. He barely reacted. Damn, what was wrong with him? And where the heck was Rafe?
“You don’t need the job. You’ve got buckets of money. If you weren’t there, Felix would have given the job to me.”
Yeah, no. “So, what? You’ve been doing all of this crap to me to try and get me to leave?” Now that pissed her off. Her poor little Cooper!
“And then,” Bernice ranted, “the hottest piece of sex-on-a-stick walks in, and you snatched him right out from under me!”
“What?”
“You knew I wanted him. And you’re all, ‘he’s just my neighbor’ and giving me the green light, and the next thing I know, you’ve jumped his junk and practically living with the guy before I even got a chance! It was a totally skanky thing to do!”
“That is so not how it—”
“Imagine my surprise when your boyfriend comes over to say hello to me tonight, and what does he do? Pawns me off on his brother, that’s what. Like I’m some charity case or something.”
More like she was some nut case. Or something.
“I’m sure he was just being nice.” Lillian cringed at the sound of a loud crack somewhere above them. The fire was eating away at the building; they needed to get out before something came down on their heads or the toxic smoke killed them. Her watering eyes darted to the window, her stomach twisting. Please be safe.
A malevolent smile curved Bernice’s lips. “But I had the last laugh on all of you. The whole time I was with his brother, I pretended it was your boyfriend who was screwing me. I even called out his name when I came.”
That was just…twisted.
“Look, you can hate me, hate Rafe…hell, hate everyone in the entire world for all I care. But right now, we need to get out of this building.” Lillian tugged on Cris again. She succeeded in getting him to throw his legs over the edge of the mattress, but even that was a struggle. She shot a furious glare at Bernice. “What did you do to him?”
“Just a little Xanax in his tequila.” Bernice smirked. “Poor baby can’t handle his women or his liquor.”
“Why would you drug him?”
“How else was I supposed to sneak upstairs and get the real party started?”
Meaning set the fire that now put all their lives at risk, along with all of the other innocent tenants in the building. Her heart squeezed when she thought of Walter and Andrew in the apartment next to hers, and the neighbors across the hall. Had they gotten out okay?
Focus, Lil. Firemen shouted from below as they set up their pumpers and dragged hoses inside. She had to have faith they’d be able to save everyone else. It was up to her to worry about saving the people in this room.
“What were you going to do? Leave him here to die?”
“Why not? He served his purpose, getting me in past all of that stupid security the building has. And to tell you the truth, he wasn’t all that good a lay.”
Lillian’s temper snapped. “You psychotic bitch!” She shoved past Bernice and ran to the window to stick her head out and yell to the firemen. “Hey, we’re up here! We need help! Somebody—umph.” All of the breath left her lungs in a rush as she was grabbed around the waist, dragged back from the window and slung to the floor.
“You are not going to ruin this for me too!” Bernice shouted, standing over her, fists clenched and shaking with rage.
Lillian was doing plenty of her own shaking. How dare this bitch put her through such hell? How dare she risk people’s lives? Rolling to the side to give herself more space, she popped back up to her feet and snarled. “It’s over! Get it through that thick head of yours. You’re done.”
“No!” Bernice launched herself at Lillian with a scream.
Expecting an actual attack, Lillian was surprised when all the other woman did was slap her and try to grab her hair. Trained by her father’s security team how to take care of herself, it took all of two seconds to put Bernice on the ground.
Eyes wide with shock, Bernice touched the small trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth. “You hit me!”
If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Lillian would have laughed. She settled for rolling her eyes. “Bitch, please.” She was interrupted by a loud pounding at the apartment door. Yes! The firemen had found them. She had a moment of indecision about leaving the vulnerable Cris alone with psycho-bitch. Realizing there was no other choice, she bolted out of the room toward the pounding that was now accompanied by the muffled shouts of men asking if anyone was in there.
“Yes!” she shouted as she ran. “We’re here! We’re here!” Her adrenaline ran so high it made her fingers feel fat and useless. She fumbled at the locks. “Come on, come on, yes!” The deadbolt turned at the same instant a sharp prick came against the side of her neck, freezing her in place.
Chapter Seventeen
I’m a freaking idiot.
Wiping sweat and soot and tears from his face as he climbed down the fire escape, trying to cough out the smoke that was seizing up his abused lungs, Rafe doubted he’d have very many people who would disagree with him on that. Firemen were supposed to be the only people crazy enough to run into burning buildings.
Yet here he was, hacking up enough smoke to choke an elephant, his skin burning like a thousand wasp stings, eyes watering and hurting like a motherfucker. And for what? To save a stupid painting? It was the dumbest decision he’d ever made in his life.
But he knew he’d make the same one if he had it to do over again. The fate of the rest of Lillian’s collection might be a great big question mark, but he could at least save this one piece for her. The singe marks on his hands and face just meant he’d cut it a little closer than planned. Like he’d told Lillian about Lupe, sometimes people did the stupidest things for the ones they loved.
As he climbed out the window, his prize in hand, the hiss and roar of water had hit the crackling flames as firemen broke into the
apartment and battled the fiery bitch that had been nipping so close to his heels. Hopefully that meant they’d been able to clear the other three apartments on the floor, and the only thing lost tonight would be some possessions, not any lives. If he hadn’t woken up when he did…
Damn, it had been close.
Too close.
He couldn’t risk losing Lillian like that again. He was done being reasonable. As soon as she was tucked away someplace safe with a dozen bodyguards armed to the teeth, he was going after Roman’s ass. The bastard would be lucky if he lived long enough to regret his decision to target Lillian.
Climbing down the ladder holding the canvas proved more awkward than he’d anticipated. That, and the memory of the last time he made this kind of descent pressed at him now that he didn’t have to focus on Lillian’s safety. Continuing down another two flights was not an appealing option. So he crawled through the open window to Cris’s bedroom instead. What was one more stupid choice after the ones he’d already made tonight?
“What the fuck?”
Dropping the painting, he went to the bed where his brother was doing his best to sit up, but kept sliding over sideways like a drunk on a rollercoaster. “Cris, what the hell, man? What happened? Why didn’t you get out with Lillian?” And why would Lillian leave him behind when he was so obviously helpless?
Cris tried to form words, but the only one that Rafe could understand was “burn.”
He shoved his shoulder under his brother’s armpit and levered him to his feet. Grunting at the pain that arrowed through his already taxed leg, Rafe adjusted his hold and took Cris’s weight as he half-carried, half-dragged him out of the room. He could hear pounding and yelling at the door. Help was a few yards away. With luck, his fucking gimpy leg would hold up long enough to get them there.
“Don’t worry, hermano, I won’t let you burn.”
Again, Cris tried to say something, but it was worse than taking a statement in the drunk tank. What the hell was going on? He couldn’t believe Lillian would abandon Cris because he was too wasted to walk on his own. Could he have been that wrong about her? About what kind of a person she was?
No. Something else was going on. He just needed to figure out what.
Which happened the minute he stepped into the dark living room and saw the two figures standing in a strange embrace near the door.
“Stop right there!”
He recognized the shrill voice immediately. Cris hadn’t been saying “burn.” He’d been trying to say “Bernice.”
Fuck me sideways.
This was very, very bad.
With great care, Rafe lowered his brother onto the couch, reaching to snap on the light as he stood back up. His gaze took in the situation in a heartbeat. His brain took a few seconds longer to process it. It was like the universe had plucked his worst nightmare out of his head and set it down to be acted out in front of him. Bernice had an arm around Lillian, holding her in front of her body like a shield, while the other hand held a long, wickedly sharp knife to Lillian’s soft, vulnerable neck.
And he knew exactly how sharp the knife was, because it was one of the set of professional cooking knives from his kitchen. Cris had fileted a steak in five seconds flat with the thing. Lillian’s throat would part like melted butter under the slightest pressure.
Not happening. Not on his watch.
“Bernice, put the knife down.”
“You ruined everything!”
Wincing at the screech, Rafe moved slowly toward them. “You don’t want to do this. You haven’t killed anybody yet. You don’t want to go down that road.”
“Stop right there! And stop telling me what I want. You have no idea what I want.”
The hysterical edge to Bernice’s voice worried Rafe almost as much as the knife. Desperate people were unpredictable. And with him in front of her and the firemen pounding on the door at her back, Bernice was looking desperate right in the eye.
A loud groan came from overhead. Water trickled from the recessed lights in the ceiling as firefighters fought the blaze above them. Bernice looked up at the sound, startled, before focusing back on Rafe. It was quick, but the distraction was enough for Rafe to slip his gun from the holster he’d shoved into the small of his back when he got dressed. He held it down along his leg, his body angled to keep it hidden.
“The ceiling could come down on all of us at any time, Bernice. We need to get out. Now.”
“No. No. No!” She let out a scream like a two-year-old having a tantrum. “It was all supposed to be mine. It was my turn! She had everything. I just wanted my fair share, that’s all. Is that so freaking wrong?”
Lillian grimaced, although whether from the words or the volume they were being yelled next to her ear, Rafe wasn’t sure. “I got the job she wanted,” she told him. “And the guy.” The look she gave made him wonder if she’d seen him pull his weapon.
“You would have picked me if she didn’t get in the way.” Bernice jerked Lillian a little in her anger. Lillian hissed as the super-sharp knife scored a fine line in her skin. He fought the instinct to attack. The proof Bernice could slit Lillian’s throat before he could stop her was right there in the bead of blood running down her throat like a ruby teardrop.
“No.” He watched Bernice carefully, waiting for an opening. “I wouldn’t have.”
“What? Yes, you would! I’m just as pretty as she is. I’m just like her!”
That was when a few things that had been nagging at him clicked.
“That’s it. That’s why. You don’t just resent her. You want to be her.” The look on her face told him he guessed right. “The short funky hair, the eyebrow piercing, the clothes. You envied Lillian, so you tried to turn yourself into her.”
“No, that’s not true.”
Rafe ignored the weak protest and kept talking. “But it didn’t work out the way you wanted, did it? So, you went even further. Dyed your hair purple. Added more piercings. Wore sexier clothes. And people still didn’t look at you the way they looked at her, did they?”
“No.”
“You still weren’t good enough.”
“I was always good enough,” Bernice yelled. “They were all just too stupid to see.”
“Rafe?” There was a huge question in Lillian’s voice that went with the one on her face, asking if he knew what the hell he was doing.
Short answer: no. He was tap dancing through a minefield, trying to find the key to Bernice’s triggers so he could disarm her. Because right now, as attractive as it was, shooting her wasn’t an option. Not when there were firemen on the other side of the door that might end up getting hit by a bullet.
And not when Lillian might end up as collateral damage.
Damn the fates for putting him in this no-win situation. Again.
As if the universe had been listening, a new round of pounding sounded on the door, this time followed by a familiar voice shouting, “Fire department! We need to evacuate this apartment immediately. Open up!”
From the way her eyes widened, Lillian recognized her brother Peter’s voice too, but was smart enough not to say anything. She looked at Rafe with the utmost confidence and gave a small nod. Whatever happened, she’d follow his lead.
God, he loved this woman.
“If you don’t open the door, we’re taking it down!”
“No, don’t.” Rafe shouted to be heard. “There are two civilians standing right in front of it.”
“Then have them open the damn thing.”
“I would, but we kind of have a situation in here.”
There was a pause. “What kind of situation?”
Looking more and more panicked, Bernice said to Rafe, “Shut up.”
He ignored her. “Oh, pretty much about the same kind I had the last time.” Hopefully Pete would remember the details of Rafe’s last “situation.”
“I said shut up!”
There was a longer pause from the hallway. “Right. Got it. We’re pulling back. You�
��re clear.”
“Roger that.”
“Is everyone okay in there?”
“More or less.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Bernice kicked back at the door in frustration, making it rattle with each blow. “What are you two, best fucking girlfriends or something?”
Pete remained silent, but Rafe had no doubt that he was out in the hallway, listening and waiting. Rafe looked up at the ceiling, where the trickle of water was increasing at an alarming rate.
“Bernice, we need to get out before the ceiling comes down on us.”
She glanced up. Good. At least she was nervous. He could work with that. But it needed to be fast, because he wasn’t lying. The thousands of gallons of water had to go somewhere, and the laws of gravity said that somewhere was down.
Right on top of their heads.
“Look, just let Lillian go, and we can all walk out of here in one piece.”
“No.”
“We can go someplace and talk about—”
“I said no!”
“Then let me change places with her.”
Lillian’s eyes flew wide. “Rafe, no.”
“You can hold the knife to my throat. They’ll let us walk right out of here with me as your hostage.”
“They’ll let me walk out with her too.” Bernice’s lip curled. “She’s a freaking rich bitch. You’re nobody.”
“Exactly. Do you think her father will ever stop hunting you down if anything happens to her?”
Bernice licked her lips, her eyes showing too much white. “They weren’t supposed to know it was me. No one was supposed to know.”
“They’re going to. There’s no other way out now.”
“No, I…I have to think.”
“We’re running out of time, Bernice.”
“Stop talking so I can think!”
Thinking was the last thing he wanted her doing. He needed to keep her off-balance and confused. And focusing her anger on him. Taking another step closer, he said, “Besides, don’t you still want to punish me for what I’ve done? For not picking you? For ruining your sabotage with the food?”