Cameron’s footsteps pounded the sidewalk behind her, and he drew to a stop at her shoulder. “I hadn’t thought you’d need to use that thing quite so soon.”
“Did you see him?” she demanded, not taking her eyes off the alley in case the person tried to make a run for it.
“See who?”
“Someone was watching us, I’m sure of it.”
“Lily, you’ve been through a lot, and it’s understandable you’re jumpy, but honestly, I didn’t see anyone. Are you sure you weren’t mistaken?”
“No, I’ve felt it before. Someone’s watching me. And yes, I am jumpy, and paranoid, too, but I’ve got a good fucking reason to be. If you’d seen half of what I had, you’d be paranoid, too.”
He lifted his hands in defense. “Okay, okay. Point made. There’s no one here now. Let’s go inside. You’ll feel safer then.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll ever feel safe.” But she allowed Cameron’s hand at the base of her spine to turn her from the empty alley and guide her to the front door of their building. Chewing her lip, she walked with Cameron into the elevator, and they rode up to their floor.
He walked her to her door.
“Are you going to be all right?” he asked as she opened the door to let herself in.
She turned to face him. “I guess so,” she said, though in her head she thought, I’m not sure if I’m ever going to be all right again.
He peered over her shoulder, into her apartment. “You sure you don’t want me to come in and check in your cupboards and under your bed?”
“Very funny,” she said, lifting her eyebrows.
“Seriously, though.” He stepped closer, narrowing the gap between them. “If you need me, I’m happy to stay.”
He was close, too close. Her heart rate stepped up, her breath growing shallow. Her defenses went on high alert, an alarm sounding in her head. But he wasn’t threatening and intimidating. Instead, he exuded warmth and genuine concern, and right now her soul craved for someone to take care of her. She didn’t step away, but instead lifted her face to look up into his. He stared down at her and then reached out to brush her hair away from her neck.
Catching her by surprise, he lowered his head and placed a soft but firm kiss on her mouth.
Lily froze, her whole body screaming in alarm. All her old reactions at someone touching her flooded back, her heart racing, every muscle tensed. She wanted to push him away, but both her inertia and her thoughts stopped her doing so.
This wasn’t what she wanted, not really, but a part of her felt like she should be allowing Cameron to kiss her. He was a good guy, who seemed to like her and wanted to take care of her, but she couldn’t change her body’s reaction.
But still she didn’t push him away. Maybe she was kissing Cameron as a way of saying ‘fuck you’ to Monster for everything he’d done, but perhaps she was simply desperate to have someone hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay.
Yet Monster, and the loss of him, flashed into her head, making her heart hurt.
Placing her hands to Cameron’s chest, she finally broke the contact. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”
His lips twisted. “The bad boyfriend?”
She nodded. “He’s not bad, not really. He’s just grown up in a different world than ours.”
“I’m not going to pretend I know what that means, but I know you’ve been through a lot, and so I’m not going to press you on it either.”
She exhaled a sigh. “Thank you.”
“But if you need me, you know where I am. Any time, day or night.”
“Don’t you work?”
He laughed. “Yes, but from home. I’m a social media consultant.”
“Seriously? I didn’t even know there was such a thing.”
“It’s a fairly recent development. It used to just be called a marketing consultant, but things have narrowed down over the past few years.”
She laughed and the sound felt good in her chest. “Okay, well, I know where you are, so I’ll call, I promise.”
“Good. I’ll look forward to it.”
He backed out of her doorway and shoved his hands into his jeans, and then spun away to walk down the hall, toward his own place. She stood, watching him as he went. He threw a glance and a smile over his shoulder, catching her standing there. Lily smiled back, and then stepped inside and shut the door. Quickly, she shot the lock into place.
With a sigh, she placed her back against the door and put her hands over her face. She didn’t need any more complications—life was difficult enough.
Her mind went to the money Monster must have deposited in her account. What the hell had he been thinking? That it would help her, somehow? Or perhaps it was simply guilt money, something to make him feel better without giving any thought to what sort of shit-storm it might stir up for her. Was the money going to get her in trouble? She already felt like she was under suspicion from the police, even though she hadn’t really done anything wrong, and now this massive sum was going to make her appear even guiltier.
Her stomach twisted with a hollow hunger, and she realized she hadn’t given any thought to the practicalities of living. She’d been out buying guns when she should have been grocery shopping. Without even looking, she knew her refrigerator would be bare. When she’d lived here, she’d only ever bought the basics, and anything left over would have gone bad by now.
Walking into the kitchen, she pulled open the freezer. Living alone meant she was a regular consumer of frozen meals for one, and her freezer didn’t disappoint. She pulled out a single serve lasagna and tore off the lid before shoving it into her microwave.
The journey she had ahead of her was overwhelming, and she had plans she needed to make, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus if she didn’t eat something and get some sleep. She would make mistakes, and in the world of hardened criminals, mistakes would get her killed.
The microwave pinged to let her know her meal was ready. She ate straight from the package, standing up at the kitchen counter, barely even tasting what she forked into her mouth. She took no pleasure in eating. Just like everything else at the moment, she was simply doing what she needed to survive.
Lily dumped the dirty fork into the sink and threw away the empty carton.
Pulling the gun from the waistband of her pants, she headed into the bathroom to brush her teeth and use the toilet, then, fully clothed, she lay down on her bed. The gun was under the pillow beneath her head, her hand rested on the butt. It was right at her fingertips if she needed it.
Within seconds, she was asleep.
Monster (Present Day)
Unable to concentrate on anything to do with work, Monster found himself pacing around his property, chewing at his knuckles and worrying himself crazy about what Flower might be doing. He’d never imagined he’d have been this anxious when he’d visualized her being back in America. In his mind, he’d thought it would bring him a peace of some sort, believing she was safe at home, but in the end it had only brought him more worry.
The phone rang and he snatched it up. He’d been waiting for news.
“I’m sorry, sir,” said the male voice on the end of the line, which he recognized as belonging to Sean Hamilton, “but things aren’t looking any better. She’s been to a rough neighborhood now.”
“What was she doing there?”
“I’m not sure, but …” he hesitated over his words … “she went with another man, and they stayed for about an hour. She’s going to get herself noticed by the wrong people if she’s not careful.”
“Dammit.”
“What do you want me to do? I can detain her for you.”
“No, don’t do that. Just keep an eye on her, follow her wherever you need to, and try to see she doesn’t get herself in any trouble.”
“I understand. What do I do about this other man? Do you want me to remove him from the picture?”
Instantly, Monster’s hackles raised. “Is he tryin
g to harm her?”
A cleared throat came down the end of the line. “Not exactly. I’m afraid I saw him kissing her, sir.”
Something ice cold and hard lodged in his chest. “What son of a bitch put his hands on her?”
“I told you, sir.” He sounded flustered. “It was a neighbor.”
“Did he force himself on her?”
“No, not exactly, though she did push him away, eventually.”
Eventually. That word cut through him. How had his Flower allowed another man to touch her? His Flower who had been afraid of another person’s touch. How had she gotten over her fear so quickly and allowed another man to kiss her? His anger roiled deep inside of him. He’d sent her back to protect her from the dangers of his life, not so she could go out chasing other men the moment she’d returned. He’d thought there had been something special, something precious between them, but Lily appeared to have forgotten him within a couple of days.
He’d managed to convince himself that was what he’d wanted—for her to go back to her old life and be happy, to continue as though she’d never gotten involved with him. Yet now the stark reality of her getting over him stared him in the face. Lily was his. She was his Flower, and he wasn’t going to stand by and do nothing while some other creep picked her.
“I’m coming over,” he told the man he’d hired.
His surprise was evident. “Coming over? What, as in, to America?”
“Yes.” His tone was curt. “Of course that’s what I mean.”
“Right. What would you like me to do until you get here?”
“Exactly the same as you have been doing. Keep your distance, just watch her. If it looks like someone is going to hurt her, step in, but otherwise don’t even let her know you’re there.”
“What about this other guy? What if he tries to take things further with her?”
“Just make sure he doesn’t,” he snapped. “If I catch him in bed with her, I’ll cut off his cock and make him eat it.”
Monster slammed down the phone. His hands shook with his fury. His anger and jealousy was all-encompassing, blocking out all other thought. He tortured himself with the idea of another man touching her, of him pulling off her clothes and suckling on her beautiful nipples. Would she throw her head back in the way she did with him? Would she gasp and moan if this strange man buried his face between her creamy white thighs and licked her? Would she lace her fingers in his hair and push his face deeper, arching her back and crying out as she came, just as she had with him?
With a roar, Monster stood, his fingertips hooked beneath his heavy mahogany desk, and he lifted and flipped it, sending everything sitting on top—his computer and phone, and stacks of paperwork—crashing to the floor. The desk sat on its side like an upended beast too large to right itself.
What had he been thinking by sending her away? He’d die before he allowed her to have a life without him in it. He owned her, and she owned him. He wouldn’t allow another man to take what he owned.
Monster’s mind turned to the practicalities of flying to America. It was times like this he missed his right hand man, Tudor, the most. Previously, he would have simply told Tudor what he needed, and the older man would have arranged everything for him. Monster still hadn’t found anyone to take his place. How could he? He’d known and trusted Tudor his entire life; finding someone like that again was near impossible.
With Tudor and his cook, Marianna, both dead, and with Lily now sent back to America, Monster found himself utterly alone.
He had a fake passport—the best money could buy. He’d had one for years, just in case he’d needed to flee the country, but of course he’d never needed to use it. He also had access to a private plane, so he wouldn’t be subjected to the monotony of domestic travel.
Monster pondered what he would do when he reached America.
He could bring Lily back here. Just whisk her away again as he had before. But that would do no good. If he did that, they’d be right back to where they started, with Lily back in Cuba and still in danger. Anger and frustration rose within him. Why couldn’t she have behaved herself, just this once? Why had she gone running off to the police, and was now involving herself in God only knew what? He’d made sure there was enough money in her bank account to keep her content for a long time to come. She could have booked a vacation somewhere relaxing to recover, but instead she was traipsing all over the city like some kind of vigilante out to get revenge.
Perhaps that was exactly what she was doing.
A sudden certainty filled him. She wanted to get revenge on him for what had happened to her, and if she couldn’t take it out on him, she would go after the men he had initially hired.
Fuck.
He wished he could turn back the clock and do that part of her journey differently. He hadn’t known back then what he did now. He’d thought the traffickers were simply a way of moving women who needed to be moved. Never once had he given any thought to how the woman might feel—why would he? Women had been a commodity to him his whole life, creatures to be used and enjoyed, and then thrown away. It would be like caring how the cow felt about its journey to becoming a steak. Did he give thought to that before he ate? No, he simply enjoyed his meal.
But Lily had changed all of that.
She’d made him care.
Monster (Present Day)
For the first time in his life, Monster found himself aboard an airplane.
He sat in a seat beside the window, his hands gripping the armrests tight enough to turn his knuckles white. Trying to distract himself, he looked out over the wing of the small plane and onto the private airstrip. They were still on the ground, but his mouth ran dry as paper, his heart a heavy stone lodged in his chest.
After everything he’d been through in his life, he’d never have believed the thing to throw him most out of his comfort zone would be boarding a plane. The confinement of the cylindrical metal body instantly made him claustrophobic, and they hadn’t even taken off yet. The small circular windows were barely enough to peer out of, and even though he imagined the comfort of the private aircraft was far greater than any kind of commercial plane, he felt cramped into the seat. He couldn’t imagine spending hours inside this thing, thousands of feet above the earth, with no way to get out, but if he intended to go to America to face Flower, he had no choice. It would take days to make the same journey by boat, and, if he were honest with himself, he wasn’t sure he’d feel any differently about being on a vessel either.
Fear and anxiety were a sign of weakness, and Monster didn’t do weakness well. It made him disgusted, ashamed of himself, and he fought to suppress the emotion as much as he could, but still it kept clutching him in its grip, causing his heart to beat harder, the air shallow and thin in his lungs.
It was strange. After growing up with all those years under his father’s tyranny, keeping him hidden away like a freak, he thought he’d have been used to being locked away with no access to the outside world. Perhaps it was his experience of recent freedom that made him afraid, or had it been inside him all along—the trauma of the memory of spending all those years locked away, now afraid to find himself in the same position.
A sudden memory flashed in his head and heart, stealing his breath. It played in his mind as though watching a television screen …
Monster (Twenty-seven Years Earlier)
Monster was a child again, a small boy, five years old at most. Voices filtered toward him from down the hallway, all male voices, raised and urgent. His door hadn’t been locked at this point, though he was always told to stay in his room unless instructed otherwise, and up until now he’d never thought to disobey the rules his father had laid down. Wanting to know what was happening, he chewed on his lower lip as he eased open his bedroom door. Instantly, the voices grew louder, and he shrank back again, his heart thumping. He knew he shouldn’t go down there. His father would be angry with him, but fear that something would happen to his father filled him. What if th
ese men did something to hurt his father? Monster was only young, but he was old enough to understand what it meant to be hurt. Though the threat of his father hitting him because he’d come out of his room without permission hung over him, the risk wasn’t enough to quell the fear of something happening to his father. If that happened, he’d be completely alone. Yes, there were the people who worked for his family—the man called Tudor often came to his room to bring him food—but his father was the only one who cared about him, even if he showed it in strange ways.
Easing his body through the gap in the doorway, he crept out into the hall. He moved lightly on his bare feet for fear he would be heard. His heart fluttered like the wings of a trapped bird in his chest, and every muscle in his small body tensed. Though the men spoke loudly, he was certain they’d hear his heart’s drumming and the shuffle of his feet against the floorboards.
One man spoke strangely so his ‘s’ sounded like ‘th.’ “You must stick to the volumes you’ve promised. If you take money for a deal, you must deliver.”
He heard his father’s voice. “I know that, asshole. I’ve been running this business for almost ten years now. But if my supply gets busted, I have to find a new one, and I can’t do that instantly. I’m asking for a little time, that’s all.”
“We don’t have time!” The voice lifted another decibel.
Monster tiptoed past the staircase, to peer into the room where his father stood with three men he didn’t recognize. He was able to read his father’s body language, perhaps even better than the men his father met with. His face was like stone, all except for a twitch at the right corner of his mouth. Others might mistake the inflection for the hint of a smile, but Monster knew otherwise. This was his father when he was holding back from striking out. Monster had seen it often enough when he’d done something to displease the man—not eaten the food he’d provided, or been unable to answer simple mathematical questions because he’d been flustered, or had a bad dream and wet the bed. At those times he’d see his father holding himself back, but then something would happen. Often the bad thing had nothing to do with Monster, such as his father spilling something, or missing a phone call because he’d been occupied with something else, and he’d just snap.
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