As a waiter meandered past us, I thrust my drink onto his tray and grabbed hold of Will’s hand. “I’m ready to leave now,” I said.
“As am I,” Will said, giving his sister a toothy grin.
As we turned, pulling free of my hand, Will swept his arm around my waist and pulled me tight against him.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, feeling a little embarrassed. “I should have kept my mouth shut.”
“Don’t be,” he said, staring down at me, his eyes alit with amusement. “I’ve never had a woman stand up for me before. It was—unique.”
I flushed, feeling even more embarrassed. I hadn’t thought about it like that; I had just been so infuriated with his parents and then his sister. “I didn’t mean to sound so…crass. You don’t need anyone to stand up for you, I just—”
We’d just reached the foyer when Will pulled me to a stop and turned to face me. Leaning down, he placed his lips on mine, swallowing the last of my words.
“I don’t care what my family, or anyone, thinks about me, Mila. I am my own man, and they know that. They don’t like it, and they tell me just how much they don’t like it every chance they get. However, it was wonderful to see you stand up for me…even if I don’t need you to.”
I opened my mouth, ready to respond, when he stopped me with another abrupt kiss.
“That doesn’t mean I’m not grateful, and if I’m honest—which I’ve promised to be with you—seeing you so protective of me really turned me on.”
I was grinning now, and he was grinning, and while we both grinned like fools at one another, I wrapped my arms around his neck and dragged him down for another kiss—a long, messy kiss that had me melting into his body and wishing we were anywhere but there.
“We need to leave,” Will murmured against my mouth. “Right now. I want you all to myself.” His hands moved over my hips. “This dress was made for you, but Mila, what I’d really like to do is take you out of it.”
I merely nodded in response, my words catching in my throat. I wanted him all to myself as well, with no pretenses—and preferably no clothes—but first things came first. I had to tell him the truth, my truth. And who knew if he’d still feel the same afterwards.
Grinning, Will took my hand in his, looping my arm through his. Arm in arm, we headed down the carpet-covered steps and into the evening air. Glancing around, Will spotted his car parked far off to the right and signaled for Richard with a wave of his hand. When the car didn’t start, Will frowned. “He must be talking to a woman,” he said, smirking at me.
Giggling, I nodded. “Or sleeping?”
Laughing, Will pulled us forward onto the pavement and we started for the car. “Or sleeping,” he agreed. Reaching the car, Will tapped on the heavily tinted driver’s side window. “Wake up, Jeeves,” he called out. Opening the back door, he gestured me in first. Lifting my dress, I climbed in, still watching him, a smile on my face. As Will climbed in after me, his hungry gaze stayed glued to mine.
“My place or yours, Mila?” he asked, a delicious grin curving his lips.
“Mila. What an interesting choice for a name, darlin’,” an unnervingly familiar voice answered, and both Will’s and my eyes shot to the front seat. The driver, who was most definitely not Richard, turned in his seat and faced us.
I barely had time to gasp before Will’s door was yanked open and a familiar face was pushing his way inside.
“What the—” Will started to shout, until his words were met with the barrel of a gun covered with a silencer. Forcing Will into the center of the backseat while keeping the gun trained on him, the man closed us all inside the car.
“Where to, Mila?” The driver grinned—a grin I knew promised only pain and misery. “My place or yours?”
I stared at him, into the eyes of the most evil man I’d ever known. “Yours,” I whispered hoarsely, not wanting him anywhere near Nikki.
* * *
Where was Richard?
And who were these men?
There were so many questions running through Will’s mind, but forefront and most importantly, was how the hell he was going to get Mila and himself out of this situation safely. He’d been mugged once, accosted at an ATM in the middle of the night, and had his wallet demanded from him at knifepoint. He’d turned around slowly, hands up, ready to give the man whatever he wanted, because no amount of money was worth his life. But then he’d seen his attacker: a drug-addicted street rat shaking with withdrawal and malnutrition. So instead of handing over his wallet he’d knocked the guy flat on his ass and into oblivion with one punch. Then he’d stuck a fifty in the man’s coat pocket and left him there.
But this was different. This wasn’t just himself, this was him and Mila, the woman he loved. There were guns involved, and these men weren’t drug addicts. In fact…
As the driver glanced up in the rearview mirror and gave him a nasty smile, Will squinted through the moonlight, surprise slinking thickly into his gut as he realized he recognized the man. It was the Southerner he’d spoken with at the coffeehouse near Mila’s apartment.
Had the man been following him all this time? Was he being targeted for his money? Kidnapped? Was his family about to be ransomed?
“Whatever you want,” he said, knowing he had to say something, “it’s yours. Just let her go.”
The driver began to chuckle, a slow laugh that turned progressively deeper until he was practically guffawing. The man seated to his right began to laugh as well, all while Mila grew stiffer and more rigid beside him.
“That’s mighty gentlemanly of you.” The driver spoke, his accent even thicker than Will remembered it being. “But I’m afraid it’s the lady I want.”
Dread turned to ice in Will’s gut. They wouldn’t dare touch her. Not if he could help it. “If you lay a hand on her,” he seethed.
“You’ll what?” The man beside him laughed as he tapped the barrel of the gun against Will’s shoulder.
“Will,” Mila said softly, laying a hand on his thigh. “Will, stop.”
Feeling fear and fury like he’d never experienced before, he looked to her, searching her face, wondering how and why she seemed so calm. Maybe calm was the wrong word—resigned, maybe. Either way, she sure as hell looked a lot less freaked out than he felt.
“Darlin’,” the driver said, his eyes on the road as he turned on his blinker and began making a slow right. “Maybe it’s time you told lover-boy here what a bad, bad girl you’ve been.”
Will’s eyes shot to Mila, whose eyes were currently fixated on her lap.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered tearfully. “I’m so, so sorry, Will.”
The dread he’d been feeling was quickly turning to panic. “Mila, what’s going on?”
Refusing to look up at him, Mila shook her head sadly. “My name is Anna,” she whispered. “And this…” She glanced up, meeting the dark gaze of the driver in the rearview mirror. Several seconds passed by while they stared at one another, staring like they knew each other, each passing moment causing Will’s panic to grow. “This is Luke,” she continued, her voice breaking over the man’s name, “my husband.”
Chapter Nineteen
Leaning against the bedroom wall, I bit down on my lower lip and squeezed my eyes shut. I needed to call someone—anyone—but who? I was alone in this nightmare. I’d been alone a long time, barring Luke and Monica. He didn’t like me to have friends. He couldn’t trust people, not in his line of work...
At least, that’s what he always said. But I’d never known exactly what that had meant—not until today. And I hadn’t really minded, at least not until now.
Now, everything had changed.
Today I’d realized just how deep he had gotten into this life. Into this world. I wasn’t stupid; I had known he had been up to no good, but I had ignored it because…because it had simply been easier to ignore it. And the gifts had kept on coming: the jewelry, the new home, the new cars. It was easy to ignore things when your husband was pi
ling on the charm.
But now I’d seen it—I’d seen firsthand what Luke did for a living, what he was capable of—and the truth was far worse than I ever could have imagined.
Salty tears ran down my cheeks. How had it all come to this? My world had been fine this morning. Everything had been how it was supposed to be.
I shouldn’t have gone; it was all my fault. I never should have gone to the warehouse. God, why had I gone there?
“Fuck!” I screamed. Whipping around, I swiped my hand along the dresser where our wedding photo sat. “Fuck!”
Marching across the room, I grabbed my bedside lamp and threw it. It smashed against the wall and fell to pieces onto the plush carpeting.
That man, that poor man, he had screamed so loudly. He had begged and pleaded with Luke not to do it, but Luke… he hadn’t cared. Luke had shown no remorse. In fact, he’d grinned and laughed—laughed sadistically as he’d brought that hammer down, smashing the man’s knee. And then he’d laughed again when the man had started to cry.
And the noise it made—my God, the noise. Steel against bone, the awful crunching sound that followed, and the screaming and the sobbing.
Vomit rose in my throat, the same acidic churn that I’d been fighting for the last hour. But now, with the image of that man in my mind and the sound of his screams replaying over and over again in my thoughts… Gagging, I ran across the bedroom and darted through the bathroom door, skidding across the cold, tiled floor. The vomit sputtered from my lips and splashed onto the tiles, missing the toilet entirely. Weakened, I fell to my knees, sobbing and gagging as I began crying all over again.
That man—he wasn’t my Luke. Not the Luke I knew, the one I’d known all my life, had gone to school with, had loved for so long. He wasn’t the man I’d married. True, Luke could be temperamental at times and often took his aggression out on walls, and he liked his privacy too, never allowing me to do much outside the home. And sometimes he was a bit demanding, a bit old-fashioned, a bit set in his ways…but this…
Wiping the back of my hand across my mouth, I slumped sideways against the wall. I didn’t know this man—he wasn’t my husband.
“Well now, Stephan, I’m a man of evens, so let me even this all out for you. I trusted you with my shit, one hundred and fifty grams worth of my shit, and you stole from me. Do you know what I do to people who steal from me?” Luke smiled at the man then, a kind smile, a smile you would expect from a man who had you tied to a chair.
Swing. Smash. Crack. Scream.
“Oh my God,” I sobbed, my hand flying to my mouth. “Oh my God…”
The image of Luke standing behind that man, the thin metal cord in his hands, the look on his face one of pure bliss as he wrapped it tightly around the man’s neck, pulling it tighter and tighter, the man’s eyes bulging, his face swelling, turning redder and redder …
And all the blood that had followed.
“Oh God, oh God!”
This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t be. And now my cell phone was vibrating in my pocket, the feel of it against my right thigh a shock to my already fried system. Shaking, I pulled it out and simply stared at the screen in horror—stared at Luke’s name and his smiling face flashing on my screen. I couldn’t answer it. What would I say to him? What could there possibly be to say to him after what I’d witnessed?
Would he hurt me? Should I go to the police? Was I an accessory to a murder now?
The phone went silent, only to start vibrating mere seconds later. I had to answer it. I had to. He would just keep calling until I did. He hated to be kept waiting; it was one of his biggest pet peeves.
Oh God, was I in danger? Was I in danger from my own husband?
With a violently shaking hand, I hit “answer” and brought the phone to my ear. But my mouth wasn’t working; my tongue felt fat and useless.
“Anna, baby? Where the hell are you? I thought we were meeting for lunch.”
I wanted to laugh hysterically. Yes, we were supposed to be meeting for lunch…at his office. But he hadn’t been there, so I’d had decided to surprise him and meet him at the warehouse instead. And then I had seen him, the real him…
“Baby? You there?”
He was getting irritated now. I had to say something before he started to yell. Oh God, would he hurt someone if I pissed him off? Is that what he did whenever we had a fight? How many deaths was I accountable for?
“I’m here,” I whispered.
“You don’t sound so good, baby.”
“I…I don’t feel well,” I stuttered quietly, silent tears still trailing down my cheeks.
He was silent for a moment, and in the background I could hear the sound of the wood-chipper—a sound I’d heard so many times before, always thinking he was working, because that’s what they did at the warehouse. But now, hearing it, all I could envision was that poor man, and…
I squeezed my eyes closed and fought off the wave of nausea.
“I’m gonna come home,” he said. “I’ll take the day off and look after my girl.”
“No!” I yelped quickly. Too quickly.
“Why not?”
I was shaking so hard now that my teeth were chattering, and I could barely keep the phone to my ear. How could he just carry on like everything was normal after what had just happened? How? How many times had his hands brought death and pain to another person only to come home to me, a smile on his face, touching me with those same hands…
So as not to vomit, I hurriedly covered my mouth with my hand.
“Baby?”
“I saw you,” I whispered. “Luke, I saw you.” My chin quivered at the following silence.
He could have said many things, and maybe I would have believed him—maybe I would have turned a blind eye yet again because…I wanted to. I wanted to climb back into my ignorant bubble and forget what I had witnessed, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t deny it.
“It’s not what you think,” he finally said, his tone cold and hard.
I had hoped for emotions—for denial, for apologies, for something, anything at all, but instead he gave me nothing.
“He stole from me, Anna. He had to be taught a lesson.”
I started to cry loudly, no longer able to contain it. “You can’t just kill a man for stealing, Luke,” I sobbed.
“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.” He spoke with venom, punctuating each word as if I were dim-witted.
“I don’t know who you are!” I cried. “I don’t know you at all!”
“I’m on my way. You stay where you are, you hear me?”
I stopped crying, the sudden fear I was feeling making me dizzy. “Why?” I whispered, “Are you going to kill me too?”
“Anna,” he laughed, “you’re my wife.”
“And he was probably someone’s husband!” I screamed. “Someone’s father!”
“Anna!” he shouted. “You don’t have a goddamned clue what you’re talking about. He was a drug dealer and a thief, a good-for-nothin’ nobody. Those were my drugs, that was my money, and no one steals from me. Now I’m on my way home, and we’ll talk about this—”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I sniveled. “I’m leaving.”
I hadn’t planned on saying that. I hadn’t planned on doing it, either—not until the very moment it had slipped past my lips. But now that it had, I knew that’s what I had to do. I had to leave.
“Like hell you are.”
“I can’t stay with you, not after this. It’s either I leave or I’ll go to the police.”
Luke laughed then, the sound so unbelievably cold that it froze my heart.
“You think they don’t know?” he asked. “Hell, darlin’, I have those greedy assholes in my back pocket.”
A door slammed, keys jangled, an engine revved to life.
“Listen to me carefully, Anna. Till death do us part. You remember that? Those vows that you took? Because I do, and I take them very fucking seriously.” Hi
s drawl was stronger, thicker now because he was angry. “And, darlin’, you knew about the drugs. That makes you part of this. There isn’t anywhere you can go! Ain’t no one gonna help you!”
Hearing his tires squealing, I stood up quickly and clicked off the phone. Oh God, what had I done? I needed to move, to go, to get the hell out of there! He was coming home, he was coming home right then! Move legs, move, I pleaded silently.
I ran out of the bathroom and into the bedroom and threw open my closet. Grabbing my suitcase from the back, I dragged it out and tossed it onto the bed. Next, I grabbed coat hangers full of clothes, not bothering to look and see what they were and simply tossing them inside. Opening drawers, I scooped armfuls of clothes and threw those in as well.
“Hey, Anna.”
Screaming, I spun around to find Monica in my bedroom doorway. She paled and held up her hands, her eyes going wide. “Anna, are you okay?”
“What…what are you doing here?” I stammered, my heart pounding in my chest. I stumbled across the room and pushed past her, checking the hallway. “You can’t be here, you need to go!”
“Anna, what’s going on?”
“I’m leaving, I have to go,” I stammered, running back inside the room. With all my might, I shoved Luke’s dresser aside, revealing his wall safe. But my hands wouldn’t stop shaking enough for me to turn the dial. I clenched and unclenched my hands, begging myself to calm down and open the damned thing. Finally I managed it, and pulling the door open, I grabbed the two stacks of cash inside.
“What are doing?” Monica asked. “Where are you going?”
Spinning around to face her, I glared at her. “Why are you here?” I yelled, watching as she stumbled backwards in shock.
“Luke called,” she whispered, suddenly breathless, her tone heavy with guilt.
“Oh my God,” I sobbed, turning back to my suitcase. “I need to go!”
Tossing the cash into my purse, I quickly shouldered and grabbed hold of my suitcase. It fell to the floor with a bang, and continued to thump its way across the room as I dragged it out into the hall and down the stairs.
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