Confessions After Dark

by Kahlen Aymes

  After the confrontation with Swanson over lunch last week, he’d ramped everything up, even hiring security for himself and to watch Allison, Josh, and his parents. It was getting damn expensive, but it wouldn’t be much longer. Maybe a month before the business was bankrupt. The cocksucker had too many outstanding loans to avoid it with two more of the dry cleaners closed. That made five, in all. Alex bought the leases out on three more with eviction notices going out the same day he closed escrow. Step by step, he was getting it done, but he was impatient for it to be over.

  It was all he could do not to hang out at Cole’s stakeout digs, but when he did, he only got a glimpse of Angel coming and going. There were privacy issues and legalities involved that prevented them from setting up cameras on the inside of anyone’s living space. And, he drove his brother crazy. It was agony being so close and not being able to talk to her or touch her. She was beautiful still, but she looked tired and skittish.

  “Fuck!” he shouted into the lifeless room.

  The satisfaction he got taking Swanson down was worthless with the way he felt. Did she really believe that things weren’t different with her? Hadn’t he held her in his arms when he told her? Hadn’t he made a big enough ass of himself over it?

  Alex pushed off the bed and went to his liquor cabinet in the other room. Bancroft had assured him that two armed men would be near her at all times. Alex insisted on meeting them one by one and poured over each of their dossiers personally. Two of them were retired DEA agents, used to dealing with hardcore criminals, and another had been head of security at Bank of America. They didn’t come cheap, but you got what you paid for. At least he’d get some sleep.

  He swallowed three fingers of scotch in one gulp and poured another as he made his way back to his bedroom. The apartment was dark, and he was so tired. Downing the amber liquid, he peeled off his boxers and T-shirt and climbed between the sheets, willing himself to relax.

  The cell phone on the bedside table beeped and lit up. Alex picked it up to retrieve the message.

  Dr. Hemming has left the radio station and we have her. We are relieving Mr. Avery until 8 a.m. and will let you know when she arrives home. Have a good night.

  A good night. He hadn’t had one of those in two fucking weeks. He threw the phone down on the bed and closed his eyes.

  6

  Dreams and Nightmares

  Angel swore as she pulled off the road; the thud, thud, thud of the flat grated on her nerves as the car ground to a halt. Her breath rushed out as she considered her options and turned on her emergency flashers. A flat tire was the last thing she needed in the middle of the night. The streets in the small mid-town neighborhood were all but deserted.

  The evening was cooler, and the September breezes coming in from Lake Michigan rustled the leaves that clung to the trees. She angrily alighted from the car with a slam of the door and stomped around to stare at the deflated tire. She frowned at the damn thing. The car was fine, working perfectly, and she’d had the tires rotated with her service less than a week before.

  “Ugh!” She kicked the tire in disgust. “Really? Are you kidding me with this shit?” Angel crouched down to get a closer look but couldn’t really tell the cause of the damage. There weren’t any big obstacles or potholes that she’d run over.

  She stood up and walked back around, pulling the driver’s door open on her Lexus and sliding back inside. Could she change a tire? Yes. Her father wouldn’t let her drive until she could change a tire and the oil all by herself, but at this time of night, she was too tired and too aware of being alone in the darkness. A shiver ran through her as it registered this could be one of Mark Swanson’s warnings, or worse, a setup to leave her stranded and vulnerable. She hated it that a creep like him could frighten her so badly, but she wasn’t stupid, and fear only strengthened her determination to see him put away.

  She quickly reached over to the passenger seat and dug through her purse in search of her phone. Her hand closed around the phone that Alex had given her, and despite her circumstances, she couldn’t help but check the screen. Angel was rewarded with more of the same nothingness before she threw it down on the leather seat next to her. She didn’t even know why she bothered keeping the damn thing charged since he hadn’t called or texted in weeks. Becca was right, though, what did she expect?

  She scrolled through her contacts on her other phone and dialed the roadside assistance number she’d gotten from her auto insurance agent. She sat there, frustrated, as she listened to the automated message and hammered out the various policy numbers it asked for. It seemed like hours before an actual voice came on the line and took her location.

  She sighed and settled in to wait the thirty to forty minutes she was told it would take for the technician to arrive. Her eyes felt as if they were full of sand; the burning only intensified as the streetlight she was focusing on blurred. She shook her head and glanced around through the tinted windows.

  She picked up the iPhone again, her thumb rubbing over the screen once again. Somehow, holding it in her hand calmed her nerves but made her heart ache. She closed her eyes briefly, and her mind willed Alex to call. She missed him like it had been years rather than weeks.

  Angel glanced at the clock in her dash. Barely five minutes had passed since she’d gotten off the phone. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the headrest, attempting to calm her panic. She tried to concentrate on the soft notes drifting from the speakers, the songs on her iPod her only company.

  The shrill electronic ringing made her jump in her seat. Who could be calling at such a time? Her heart thudded heavily in her chest as she glanced toward the offending object. She knew. It had to be Mark Swanson.

  A restricted number registered on the screen, and she picked it up with shaking hands.

  “What do you want, you fucked-up bastard?” she spat into the phone. She’d be damned if she’d let him see how terrified she was. Despite her self-defense training, she knew how vulnerable she was.

  Mark Swanson’s low chuckle resonated through the earpiece. He sounded maniacal, like some character out of a horror movie. “Are you enjoying your little situation, Angel?”

  She steadied herself. “I’m just fine, but your concern is so touching,” she replied as calmly as possible.

  He laughed again. “Oh, Angel.” He tsked his tongue against his teeth a few times. “Always so defiant. That’s what I love about you. It will make your surrender that much sweeter. I’m going to fuck you senseless.”

  “You’ll have to kill me first.”

  “Be careful what you wish for.”

  “We both know you don’t have the balls for that. Gonna call in your cronies for the big boy stuff?”

  The loud crash of glass breaking had Angel scrambling away from the sound. The tire iron hit the car again and again, making her cower across both seats with her arms curled around her head and her knees pulled up. “Ahhhhhhhhhh!” she screamed, frantically glancing around at the two shadowy figures moving around her car. They were dressed in all black with creepy Halloween masks covering their facial features and all but blended into the night. The tire iron hit the roof of her car, making her scream again as a gloved hand reached in the broken passenger window and unlocked the door.

  “Get her out.” A deep voice said from somewhere near the rear of the car. The adrenaline pumping through her veins got her heart beating so fast she felt it would fly from her chest. Her purse still clutched in her hand, she twisted so that when the man reached for her, she could use her feet to defend herself. She watched his arms grasping at her ankle as her other foot delivered a sound kick to his shoulder.

  “Guh! You little bitch!” he groaned as he began to yank her out.

  “Huh!” She kicked at him again, this time hitting the man soundly in the forehead and snapping his neck back. His hands left her as he fell backward briefly before lunging forward and grabbing her again by both feet. He dragged her out of the car while she struggled for dear life
. Her lower back hit the door frame and pain shot through her pelvis as she landed on the pavement with a thud.

  “Let go of me! Let go!”

  The bigger man came forward and wrapped his arms around Angel’s body, the two of them lifting her and hurrying toward a black van. Angel heaved in their arms, pulling at one of the masks and kicking at the other man’s head. She screamed again, the sound shrill in the dead air. “Ahhhhhh! Somebody, help me!” Steel arms clamped around hers and imprisoned them close to her body so she couldn’t move; both her assailant’s meaty hands imprisoned her wrists tightly.

  “Just get her in the goddamn van, Nick!” The other one mumbled, followed by a grunt as one of Angel’s feet broke free of his hold and found purchase on his jaw. “Motherfucker!”

  “Get off of me!” she shouted, her voice showing none of the terror she felt.

  The door to the van protested in a loud grating of metal as it opened, and they were about to throw her inside when another voice rang out. “Leave the young woman alone!” His tone was hard and authoritative, but Angel didn’t recognize his voice.

  Angel landed with a heavy bang inside the back of the unfinished conversion van, moaning as pain shot through her hip and arm. The two men were besieged by two others, and Angel’s eyes squinted to get a better look. She could only see a dark blur of bodies among a series of grunts and punching noises.

  Angel crawled to the front of the van and over the seat to scramble out the driver’s side door amid the sound of a body being slammed against the side of the vehicle with a sick thud and a bang. The echo of one gunshot filled the night air. She fell onto the pavement, slamming her knee. Pebbles jabbed into the heels of her hands, leaving a deep sting when she pushed herself to her feet in the start of a run.

  She ran as fast as her feet would carry her despite the burning pain in her hips, knee, and back. Angel wanted to put as much distance as possible between herself and the scene. She didn’t think twice about leaving her car behind; the blood pounding in her ears and the throp, throp, throp of her feet on the pavement grew louder as the sounds of the fight diminished behind her.

  “Dr. Hemming!” Angel heard the faint sound of her name in the distance as she turned down a dark residential street and glanced over her shoulder to see if she was being followed.

  She ran until her sides hurt, zigzagging through the backyards of the houses and dark side streets. She finally slowed her pace and leaned against a tree, placing her hands on her knees as she struggled to regain her breath. Her hair had worked its way out of the ponytail and hung in damp tendrils around her face, and her lungs ached in angry protest as she pulled in oxygen with heavy pants.

  Her mind reeled. She knew the first two men were Swanson’s hired henchmen but wasn’t sure about the other two. Maybe they were just passersby and had come to her aid when they heard her screams, but Angel didn’t consider that in her haste. She was too uncertain to stay and watch the scene play out, instinct telling her to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. She straightened up, thankful she was in casual attire and Adidas. By some miracle, her purse was still looped over her arm.

  She opened it to inspect the contents. Her original cell phone was gone, and she’d left her keys in the ignition. She still had the phone Alex gave her and her wallet. Angel’s eyes closed in relief. Thank God.

  Angel didn’t feel safe going back to her condo; someone would probably be waiting. It was too obvious that was where she would go, and Swanson would be furious that his plan was foiled.

  “Stupid bastard! I fucking hate you,” she murmured softly, thinking how little effect she had on the outcome of the case; it wasn’t even going to make it to court. She knew Swanson’s grudge was personal now. He wanted to prove a point.

  Angel held her hand out in front of her and felt her whole body begin to shake as the adrenaline wore off. Her hip ached and she was sure in a few hours she’d find bruises on her body from landing in the van and the fingers biting into her tender flesh.

  It was pitch black, the trees blocking any moonlight, as she continued to rummage through the contents of her purse. She walked beneath a streetlight, just as her hands closed around a different set of keys.

  *****

  Angel peeled her clothes off in the guest bathroom, the only light coming from a candle on the granite vanity. The décor was simple, but the colors were obscured by the golden light and flickering shadows. She was exhausted and frightened, the soreness she knew she’d feel in a few hours had yet to take hold.

  Her jacket was left in the backseat of her mangled Lexus, and the shower’s steaming surge lessened the chill on her skin. It was hard to know what damage had been done to the car after she ran away, but the light of day would tell. There wasn’t anything she could do about it now other than what she’d done. She called the police, and they told her she’d have to file a report the following day, but that a patrolman would go to the scene, and her car would be towed to the impound lot until she could pick it up.

  She drew in a shaky breath, doubting her recent decisions as she pulled her hair down and found a brush in the drawer. As she pulled it through the long, silky strands, her heart was heavy, yet it beat in frantic anticipation. Angel was drawn to Alex like the moon pulled the tide; it was the most natural thing in the world to end up here. Like she had no conscious choice; she didn’t even remember telling the cab driver the address a half an hour earlier.

  She’d been unsure if Alex would even be there, and she still didn’t know. Part of her hoped he wouldn’t be, and the other part needed to feel his arms wrapped around her because it was the only way she’d be sure either of them was safe. Water Tower had armed security and would be harder to penetrate. It had been pure luck that the security codes were the same as his estate. But what if he wasn’t alone?

  Her heart fell as the realization hit her; she wasn’t prepared for that possibility. He might be angry, and he’d probably tell her to get the hell out. She was feeling fragile, and her eyes flooded with tears as her throat began to throb.

  Somehow, she’d managed to enter and shower without detection. The evening had been surreal, like some scene from a low-budget horror flick, and she was shaken. If it weren’t for her aches and pains and the rips in her shirt, she could’ve sworn it was a nightmare.

  Her hands paused midway on their way to pick up her discarded clothing, and soon, her towel joined them on the Italian marble floor.

  She leaned on her hands and bowed her head in defeat. She should leave. If she wanted to keep the carefully constructed, yet delicate, walls in place, she needed to leave now. But she needed the comfort of his touch, to smell his skin, to hear him breathe. Even if, to her horror, he was in bed with someone else, at least she’d know he was okay.

  Angel swallowed and pushed open the door, and the contrast between the steam-filled bathroom and the cool air of the rest of the apartment caused her nipples to pucker as the chill skittered over her skin. Her feet were almost silent as they sank into the plush carpet of the hallway. As she drew closer to his bedroom door, she heard a low moan and she froze, her hands clenching in protest.

  Please, God, no, she prayed in her thoughts. Her conscious mind knew she had no claim on him, but her heart screamed in protest. She padded closer, her feet carrying her forward of their own volition, and her heart tightened painfully.

  “Mmmmm…” Alex murmured. The sound of his voice begged her to push the door open further. The smooth mahogany gave way beneath her trembling fingertips to reveal a lone figure sprawled face down on the bed.

  Angel’s breath left her lungs in a grateful rush as she leaned on the door frame, hands reaching out to take her weight. Relief washed through her. He was here and he was alone. God help her, that fact was just as important.

  The sheet was falling low on his waist, clinging precariously to the curve of his butt, the strong expanse of his shoulders presented to her below the dark hair. It looked longer than she remembered, and she stood there
, willing him to turn so she could see the lines of his face. Her lips parted to call his name, but he stopped her by calling hers first.

  “Angel, don’t do this.”

  She gasped softly and moved to the side of the bed, crawling gently onto it to kneel beside him, her rear resting on her feet. His scent surrounded her, a mixture of musky cologne and Alex. The skin, molded over the strong contours of his back, fascinated her. She wanted to touch, to feel the silken texture beneath her fingers, to run her nose down his spine, to taste the salty tang on her tongue.

  Angel was falling apart, her weakness overwhelming her. Earlier, she’d fought ruthlessly, but now, she had no fight left. With Alex, she wanted to surrender. The truth of it was undeniable.

  “What am I doing?” she asked softly, reaching out to smooth her hand over the back of his head and down the strong muscles of his back. He was warm, a sharp contrast to her own skin, and the familiar electricity ran between his flesh and hers—tangible and alive.

  Alex shifted, turning his head toward her. He was still sleeping, his features soft in the dark blue glow of night. “You deny us. You left me.”

  “Oh, Alex.” Angel’s heart swelled to the point of bursting. “That seems impossible,” she whispered, continuing to rub his back and then gently kneading his shoulder and the back of his neck.

  “That feels so good. Your hands on me.”

  “I miss touching you.” The words ripped from her, her voice trembling.

  Suddenly, Alex turned, his hand closing around her forearm and pulling her forward and closer until her face was inches from his.

  “Am I dreaming?” His green eyes looked black, but glittered in the darkness. “Angel?”

  Angel nodded, unsure what else to do. Maybe she could get away with being here if he believed she wasn’t real. “Do you dream of me often?”

  “Every time I close my eyes.” He cupped her face, his big hand easily reaching around the back of her head to tangle in her long hair, his thumb brushing her chin. “But this time, you feel so real. I want you to be real.”