by A. C. Arthur
The words he’d spoken to her just a while ago played over and over in her mind. But they weren’t enough. What she felt for him wasn’t enough. It couldn’t be. Could it?
Chapter 16
The event of the year was officially in the books.
The limo carrying Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Bennett pulled off twenty minutes ago. Their guests steadily filed out of the ballroom after their departure. Cheyna, Sarah and Evan were still there helping the vendors with whatever they could to get everyone packed up and on their way for the night. The storm had picked up in intensity and thick fluffy snowflakes fell steadily outside.
“I can take you home.”
Cheyna was standing at the window looking out at the way the snowfall blended with the New York City skyline. It was like staring through a snow globe and left her with a magical and hopeful feeling inside. When she heard Logan’s voice from behind, Cheyna turned slowly, that feeling in the pit of her stomach blossoming.
“You don’t have to. Sarah has an SUV so I rode into the city with her to help transport some of the things we needed.” Her words sounded as if she was pushing him away.
Logan slipped his hands into his pockets, the action pushed his tuxedo jacket back and gave him the look of a gangster standing in this room in the 1930s when it was first built. “I think we should talk.”
Cheyna clasped her hands behind her back and nodded. “I think that would be nice.”
Logan had told Sam that he would stick close to Cheyna throughout the night. He hadn’t lied about that. So many times throughout the reception whenever she would look over her shoulder Logan was there. When they were ready for the cake cutting and she’d attempted to help the caterers with the gold cake boxes and they’d almost fallen on the floor, Logan had appeared and helped keep the catastrophe to a minimum. As the DJ had taken over for the night and played music that guests could dance to, Logan was still close but could be seen doing the steps to a favored line dance or bopping his head to the beat not more than two to three feet away from wherever Cheyna was standing. After a while she’d stopped looking for him because she could feel his presence and Cheyna realized how much she liked that feeling.
“I’ve missed you so much.” He shook his head. “Much more than I ever realized I could miss someone.”
Her body warmed with a soothing reaction to his words. “I know what you mean.”
He stepped closer and Cheyna sucked in a breath. Was he going to touch her? Wrap his arms around her waist and hold her in that way that made her feel both protected and cherished? Or would he use his hands to cup her face and tilt her head up so he could take her mouth slowly? Cheyna loved Logan’s slow kisses. His fevered and hungry kisses were great too, but it was the slow ones that she became totally lost in. They were the ones that made her feel like she was made for the specific purpose of kissing this man.
“Hey, snow’s really coming down out there. I’m gonna help the DJ get his last pieces of equipment down to his truck. Can you give me a hand, Logan, so we all can get up outta here?”
Cheyna didn’t know when Evan had returned to the room, but as usual his comments were relevant, even if they were unwelcome at this moment.
“Yeah,” Logan replied without looking away from Cheyna. “We should all head home before it gets any worse.”
Cheyna nodded. “That’s true. Let me help.”
“I got it,” Logan told her when they were both walking toward a corner at the front of the room where the DJ had set up his table and equipment. “You stay inside until we’re done. I’ll bring my car around to the front entrance and come back up to get you.”
Cheyna opened her mouth to argue the point. She could carry some of the lighter boxes the DJ had, it was no problem. But she knew why Logan was saying what he was. She’d been so engrossed in the gorgeous and emotion-filled ceremony that she hadn’t paid much attention to the fact that it had gone off without a hitch or interruption from any unwelcomed guests. The reception too. There had been no sign of Zeke or Fiona. Sam and his crew were relieved as well, but still advised everyone to be vigilant. Speaking of them, Sam and Devlin had left the ballroom moments before Logan approached Cheyna. They were going to do one last sweep of the rooms in the back. Bailey and Bree were going to check the bathrooms and coat closets. They wanted to clear the space before leaving the building.
“You’re right,” Cheyna agreed. “I’ll just stay and pack up these cords so this’ll go quicker.”
Logan smiled. “Good idea.”
The DJ had done most of his packing already. Now was just about the transport. So after Logan and Evan carried out one of the two big speakers that were used and a box that contained the computer equipment, Cheyna began gathering the many cords that were still on the floor. Her dress wasn’t as tight as the lovely black sheath dress Sarah wore. The wraparound style made it easy for her to squat and pick up the cords. She was still in that position trying to untangle a set or cords a few minutes later when she heard footsteps.
“Great timing,” she yelled out without turning around. “I seem to be making a bigger mess here.”
Making more work for them was definitely not something Cheyna wanted to do. She was exhausted. After the weeks of planning this wedding on top of the other events that had been booked long before Monica had come into her office in late October, Cheyna and her staff had been working non-stop. Her initial plan for the end of the year had their last events scheduled between the 16th and 20th of December. Monica’s wedding had been an add-on. One that Cheyna could not have refused. After tonight, Prestige Events and Productions would be closed until after the first of the year. It would give them time to rest an rejuvenate before coming back in January and getting ready for the events they had scheduled beginning with a Valentine’s Day soiree for a private school in February.
“Wait a minute, I think I got it,” she continued and then gave a squeal of excitement as the cords did fall apart and she could wrap one and place it in the box. “I’ll just be another second with these and I can carry this box. My coat’s on the table by the door, so we can head out now.”
After dropping the last cord into the box Cheyna stood and turned around expecting to see Logan, the DJ and/or Evan behind her. She was unpleasantly surprised.
“Lieutenant Sinclair.” Cheyna’s light mood dissipated as thoughts of being told that she was a suspect in yet another murder circled in her mind. She set the box she’d been holding down on the floor.
At some point during the ceremony Cheyna had begun to think of other things besides death, whoever was trying to frame her and the murder charges that may or may not be brought against her. She’d started to think about her life and what she deserved in terms of what was within her reach. Now, she feared the lieutenant was about to change that with another dour announcement.
“How can I help you?” she asked when he did not speak but continued to move closer.
Some of the lights around the perimeter of the room were still dimmed but she could see that tonight he wore a black tuxedo. It looked really good on him. If she didn’t already know him she wouldn’t have guessed he was a cop. But it was when he came closer, still not speaking a word, that Cheyna saw he was holding something in his hands. Whatever he held was in front of him. Cheyna stepped around the box and asked, “What happened now, Lieutenant? If you have more questions about my alibi you can…”
Her words trailed off as her gaze settled on the long red rose in his hands.
Cheyna’s mind screamed no, but no words escaped. Her body went instantly still even though she was very aware of the fight or flight response that was supposed to kick in right about now. He continued walking toward her. She wanted to opt for flight and was trying to send every message she could to her brain to oblige, but her body never moved, her gaze stayed fixed on that rose.
When he finally spoke his voice was different. “I used to bring her roses once a week.”
Cheyna had met Lieutenant Ramsey Sinclair two
years ago. He’d sat at his desk at the police station and scribbled in his notepad while she’d described the most humiliating times in her life. When she was finished, he’d looked at her and promised to take care of everything. Cheyna had believed him and she’d been elated when the restraining order was issued and Liam could never come close to her again. In the months immediately following the settlement Lt. Sinclair would stop by her empty new office and talk to her about her plans for the future, encouraging her to put all that had happened with Liam and Volker behind her. He’d been serious, but concerned and Cheyna had felt safer each time he showed up and she cold report that she hadn’t seen or heard from Liam or Zeke. After a while he stopped showing up and Cheyna thought that entire episode was behind her. How very wrong she’d been.
Now, Lieutenant Ramsey Sinclair stopped just a few feet away from her. He extended the rose to her and smiled.
“She loved roses. And I loved her so I wanted her to be happy. I gave her everything, I did everything and anything to make her happy.”
He was looking at her, but from what he was saying Cheyna was positive he wasn’t referring to her.
“She was ungrateful and selfish.” He shook his head. “She wasn’t the only one like that. But I’d already decided she was different. I treated her like she was different. I let her work where she wanted, go where she wanted, do all the things she wanted to do. And that was not enough.”
“I’m not here alone.” Cheyna finally found some words and they came out in a voice that cracked. She cleared her throat. “There’s a security team. They’re still here and so is Evan and Log—”
He closed the space between them, dropping the rose to the floor and grabbing her by the chin. He squeezed so hard that Cheyna feared he might actually break her jaw with his bare hand.
“My name is Ram.” He spoke with his face very close to hers. His voice was not raised but the edge of lethalness in his every word was frightening. “Say it.”
She couldn’t.
He squeezed tighter. “I said, say my name.”
Cheyna tried. It came out in a garbled mess since he still had a grip on her chin, but it seemed to satisfy him.
“I don’t want to hear you say another man’s never. Ever. Again.”
She hated the tears that formed in her eyes but hated even more the helplessness that swirled in the pit of her stomach. In revolt, she smacked at his hand. Her motions proving futile as Ram never budged.
“I’m going to let you go. We’re going to leave this place. And if at any time you try to scream or run, I’ll stick this knife straight through your gut.”
Cheyna went completely still.
“If you say his name I’ll slice that hood rat from ear to ear. The only reason he’s still alive now is because he had the good sense to walk away when you told him to.”
He eased his hand from her chin. He let it slide down the line of her throat and ease down the front of her dress stopping when his hand was between her breasts.
“They all looked at you tonight. I did too but I knew something they didn’t. I knew tonight was the night you would finally come to me.”
The hell she would. Cheyna lifted a knee to jam into his groin. She felt the connection being made but unlike how she’d seen it done on television, did not stay in the same place to watch him crumble to the floor. Instead she turned, hiked up her dress and started to run toward the first exit door she saw. He caught her before she could make it, wrapping a strong arm around her waist and yanking her back against him. The tip of the knife replaced the spot where his hand had been between her breasts and he pressed it into her skin until she cried out.
“I knew you would test me. You’ve been testing me all this time. But it stops now. Do you hear me? It stops right fucking now!”
He had his mouth close to her ear, speaking in a deep, low tone. His breath was hot, his tongue repulsive as it slid along her earlobe.
“Now we’re leaving. Walk.”
His tone coupled with the tight grip he had on her and the knife pressing into her chest assured she would do exactly as he said. To say she was afraid didn’t quite explain what Cheyna was feeling at this moment. In her mind, from the start of all this chaos, she’d thought the worst case scenario would be that she would go to jail. She, like Logan and Sam, has assumed it was Zeke trying to frame her, to destroy her name and her reputation. Cheyna hadn’t thought her life were actually in danger. Not until Cassie was targeted and, even then, she’d thought it was another episode to pin on Cheyna, not to frighten her. But this fear was very real now. It clogged her throat so that if screaming were an option, it was no longer a possibility.
“Hurry up!” he yelled at her.
She was moving as fast as she could while being held against her will and afraid to breathe for fear the tip of that knife would sink into her skin. He started to drag her when they went through one of the “staff only” doors. There were extra chairs lined against one wall, microphone stands, podiums and other paraphernalia that could be used in the ballroom. Ram pulled her past all of that to the very end of the wide hallway where there was a service elevator along the back wall. He used his elbow to push the button summoning the elevator and when it arrived he pushed Cheyna inside. She stumbled and slammed into the back wall of the elevator car, but hurried to turn around and face him. He pressed more buttons, six of them lit up and the doors closed.
“What are you doing?” she asked when a part of her wondered if it were better to be quiet. “How does this end for you?”
“I’m doing what I should have done two years ago. I should have just told you what you were supposed to do and none of this other stuff would have had to happen.”
He was speaking louder now, a thick vein bulging in his neck each time he talked. He held that knife tightly in his right hand.
“What was I supposed to do?” Cheyna was not only afraid, she was confused. How had it come to this? How had the police officer whose job it was to protect her from the criminals, turned out to be the biggest criminal of them all?
“You were supposed to come to me.” He lifted the knife and tapped it to his left temple. “Just like you did the first time when Volker and Liam were harassing you. I helped you out of that situation, didn’t I?”
Cheyna didn’t respond because thinking back on things now, she realized that Liam and Zeke may have been the least dangerous of the three men that now seemed to hate her.
“I waited for you, Cheyna. I waited and waited because I knew you were just like me. You were waiting too. For someone you could depend on, someone who would take care of you and love you the way you deserved to be loved. That’s what I wanted too. All the years I was in foster care after my mother gave me away so she could get high and screw worthless drug dealers.”
“We’re just alike, you and me. That’s why we’re meant to be together. I made a mistake before. She wasn’t ready for all that I had to give. She didn’t understand how it was supposed to be. So she left. And I let her go. After I took the life I’d given her.”
He was insane. Cheyna had trusted that the police were the protectors. She’d gone to him with the expectation that he would fix her problem in the legal way. Never once had she considered that he would do anything other than his job.
“You were taking too long. You kept going to other people. You went to that lawyer to sue Volker and then when I decided to let you slide for that, you went to that idiot photographer. I saw you eating with him, laughing with him and I knew it was time to stop you. I had to stop you from making another mistake. So when I knew that Volker and Liam were planning to get you back for what you’d done to their reputation, I took Liam out of the equation. He was Volker’s fuckboy so he was willing to go against that stupid agreement and do whatever he could to mess with you until you crumbled, but I took care of him for you. I gave him a little present first, that vile bitch Fiona who had gone to her knees and sucked me off in return for me not arresting her.”
He l
aughed. The sick sound filling the elevator car.
“I arrested her anyway and then I put her to work for me. She let me into Liam’s place. I fucked her on the bed right beside that stupid bastard’s sleeping body. But she wasn’t you. Nobody was going to ever be as good as you. I knew that but I needed something while I waited. I was being so patient while I waited for you to come to me.”
Cheyna stayed backed into the corner. Her heartbeat so loud she wondered why he didn’t stop talking to hear it. She’d seen on movies where victims would try to join in their abductor’s fantasy to get on their good side. She doubted Ram had a good side and had no idea what she could say to insert herself into such a deranged scenario with him.
“I wasn’t going to come to you.” She opted for simple truth. Cheyna didn’t know if Logan had figured out she was gone or if anyone would check the service elevator to look for her. What she did know was that as long as she kept him talking he wasn’t putting his hands on her. She’d vowed when Volker had put his hand up her skirt that final day she’d stood in his office that it would be the last time a man touched her without her consent. Ram had touched her. He’d used a knife but he’d touched her without her permission. Cheyna was determined to die before letting that happen again.
“You were. You need me. And I’m here for you. I came here for you tonight.”
He’d started pacing at that point. She wondered if he even realized he was doing it. The space was small, maybe dimensions of 6 by 7 feet. He was very tall and muscular and seemed to fill the entire car leaving her the tiny corner where she remained.
“Boyd wanted to fuck you. I was so glad when you didn’t let him.” He was tapping the knife against his thigh now, his fingers flexing over the handle. “You let that hoodlum fuck you though. I know you did. I heard you in the museum making all that noise for him, coming all over his dick. I heard you and I wanted to cut both your throats that same day. But I knew you would realize your mistake. I knew how to make you come to me.”