by Zoe Blake
As we lay there, her small hand crept up to cover the still healing bullet wound in the center of my chest.
“I love you,” she whispered. Finally, saying what I wanted to hear.
Those three little words made everything I was about to do worth it.
Chapter 24
Lizzie
My eyes opened with a start. There was a figure standing over our bed… with a gun.
It was her.
The blonde.
Looking down at me with disgust, she slowly shook her head. “I warned you. He was mine.” Her voice had a strange, detached singsong quality.
My body trembled. “Please, don’t kill us,” I begged.
“Us?” she screeched. “There is no us!” Gesturing to Richard’s sleeping form with the gun, she said, “There is him and me. There was never a him and you. You’re an imposter. A poser. You don’t belong in his world. It was always supposed to be just him and me.” Pulling back the slide on the automatic handgun, she sneered, “And soon there will only be me.”
Throwing myself in front of Richard’s body, I cried, “You can’t kill him. I love him!”
She pushed out her lower lip in an exaggerated frown as she pretended to cry. “Isn’t that sweet? The little birdie thinks she’s in love.” She wiped imaginary tears off her cheek with the muzzle of the gun.
It was strange; I still couldn’t see her face clearly.
Just that icy blonde hair with long bangs that covered her eyes. I was certain she was the woman who had attacked me on the street that day and at that dressmaker’s shop. She must have been the maid who had handed me my purse with the bloody feather. I couldn’t be certain but the day I had found the dead bird in the car, when I thought I had seen Richard walking away, I had a vague memory of a tall blonde bumping into me and forcing me to drop my portfolio. Perhaps it was her even then?
Had she been stalking me this entire time?
She was obviously completely unhinged. I still didn’t know what she meant to Richard. Why was he refusing to mention her to the police? Was he trying to protect her? Or perhaps he didn’t want the police to know about her because he wanted to handle the situation in his own way, without the authorities interfering? That certainly sounded more like Richard.
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that while I might not know why he was protecting her, I knew he didn’t love her. He loved me… and only me.
There was something else I knew with a certainty… she would kill us both.
Why wasn’t Richard waking up? Where was our security? How could she have possibly snuck into the house again? Someone must be helping her get close to us. Harris? I remembered he was nowhere to be found in the crucial moments after Richard got shot. Had Harris been helping her this whole time?
“I saw you at the wedding. You know, kinky whores who play sex games and like to take it up the ass really shouldn’t wear white,” she taunted in an odd conspiratorial whisper.
I could feel Richard stir behind me.
Her face was blurry and contorted as she cocked her head at an odd angle and looked past me to Richard’s shifting form.
“Elizabeth?” His voice was gravelly with sleep as he rolled over to face me.
Raising my arms, I held my hands out, palms up, in a placating gesture. “Please! Please don’t do this!”
“Elizabeth?” Richard’s voice became more insistent.
“You’ve left me no choice,” she said as she leveled the gun straight at me.
“Elizabeth! Elizabeth!”
“No! No! No!” I screamed.
“I think you’ll look much better in red,” she cackled.
“Elizabeth!”
I began to shake violently as I rocked back and forth.
“Elizabeth!”
In the unlit room, you could see the bright flash from the muzzle as the loud report from the gunshot reverberated around the room.
“No!” My shrill scream drowning out the echo of the gunshot in my head.
“Elizabeth! Wake up!”
Looking down, a sickening crimson stain spread across the center of my chest, soaking my white silk nightgown.
“Elizabeth! Baby, wake up!”
Suddenly, I was standing at the altar in Westminster, staring at Richard. His face contorted with pain and shock. The same crimson stain was blossoming across his chest.
“No! No! No!”
“Elizabeth!”
I couldn’t stop screaming even after I realized it was a dream.
After shaking me awake, Richard snatched me to his chest, holding me tight with one arm wrapped around my back and the other pressing my head next to his beating heart. He was rocking me as he just kept saying over and over again, “Don’t cry, baby. I’m here. I’m here.”
“It felt so real,” came my muffled reply as I buried my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the warm familiar sandalwood scent of his cologne.
Rubbing my back in soothing circles, he stroked my hair as he kissed my forehead. “I know, my love, but I’m here and you’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
It had been a week since our wedding. The night terrors had started a few days later. It was always the same indistinct face with blonde hair preying on my insecurities about Richard before she fired the gun. I felt terrible waking Richard up with my screams each night, but he never complained. Each time he held me close and soothed me till I fell back to sleep.
As he continued to hold me, he leaned back into the pillows. I snuggled into his side with my leg over his and my arm wrapped around his lean waist. Richard played with a lock of my hair as we both just stared at the dying embers of the fire.
“Do you think we could get away somewhere?” I asked in a hushed whisper as the tips of my fingers caressed the hairs on his chest, careful to avoid his bullet wound.
I needed to get away from here… away from the nightmares. I wanted to go someplace where it was truly just Richard and me and no one else. Someplace she couldn’t find us.
“We haven’t discussed a honeymoon yet. Where would you like to go?” he offered.
I thought about it a minute. The thought of that woman still out there, stalking us, chilled me to the bone. The only thing that seemed to comfort me was the warmth of Richard’s arms. “How about someplace warm?”
Richard was quiet for a minute, then he said, “I own a private island in Fiji. Would you like to go there?”
An island sounded perfect; leave it to Richard to suggest just what I wanted and needed.
Leaning up on my elbow, I pushed my hair out of my face and looked at him. “I don’t think I will ever get used to you casually saying things like ‘I own a private island,’ as if you were mentioning some timeshare condo in Florida.”
Richard chuckled. “You do realize I’m very rich, right?”
Pushing my nose in the air, I flipped my hair and rolled my r’s as I teased him with a fake high-society voice. “Darling, but of course! Don’t you know I only married you for the money?”
Richard flipped me onto my back. Pushing his knee between my legs, I opened for him as he settled his hips against my own. I could already feel the hard press of his cock. “Is that the only reason why you married me?” he asked, his voice a seductive low growl as he ran his lips up my neck to my earlobe.
My back arched as I dug my nails into the hard muscles of his upper arms. Breathlessly, I conceded, “Well… it’s not the only reason.”
Richard then chased away the evil dreams.
Richard
It was a game well played, in my not-so-humble opinion.
Of course, I could have just taken her to the island, willing or not, but where was the fun or challenge in that? It was so much more satisfying, knowing she had asked to be taken there. I would remind her of that fact when she begged and pleaded to be returned to civilization.
The island was her idea.
Her choice.
I had accomplished the impossible, with only a minor
sacrifice on my part. I touched the healing star-shaped scar in the middle of my chest.
The risk was worth it.
I had realized marriage, a piece of paper, would not be enough for me… she needed to be bonded to me in blood. Especially since Elizabeth had a troubling way of doubting my love for her and overthinking my motives. I couldn’t risk that she would eventually start remembering the truth. Nothing intensified a person’s feelings… or clouded their thinking and judgement… more than the threat of the death of someone they loved.
By her steady breathing, I could tell my little bird had fallen back to sleep in my arms. Tilting my head to the side, I watched her face, soft in sleep. Careful not to wake her, I stroked her cheek with the backs of my knuckles.
Mine.
This precious creature was all mine.
Yes, it was a game well played.
Once the villain, I had become the hero of her story.
La plus belle des ruses du diable est de vous persuader qu’il n’existe pas.
Chapter 25
Lizzie
Her name was Nicole.
Nicole Fleming.
Nicole was too nice, too normal of a name. I would have imagined the woman stalking us to have had a more sinister-sounding name, something exotic and hard to pronounce. Nicole sounded like someone you met for coffee or for drinks at the club. Nicole was a name for the girl next door, not the half-crazed, killer ex-girlfriend.
I stared down at a picture of her on the front page of the newspaper. She was in handcuffs with a bulletproof vest placed over her shoulders as she was being led away by countless Special Branch officers. The headline read Would-Be Murderess in Love Triangle with Rich Duke.
We had breakfasted in the conservatory today. The beautiful bamboo cage for Coco and Dior was kept there, and I liked to hear them sing as we ate.
Sitting at the small wrought-iron table with my now-chilling pot of tea and half-eaten chocolate croissant, it almost felt like I was peeking into an unknown world as I looked down at the newspaper with its garish insulting headline.
Richard had multiple daily papers delivered from London. Usually he gave me the culture section while he read the remaining sections, occasionally reading an article he thought I might enjoy out loud, but today the delivery was late. He was already in his study, completing our plans to travel to his private island. I knew he wouldn’t be happy when he learned the staff had let me see the papers.
Ever since our wedding, he had been determined to essentially shut the world out. Refusing to even discuss the investigation with me. I guess his high-handed tactics would upset most women, but I was grateful. It had been over a week, but I still woke up in the middle of the night screaming, seeing drips of crimson blood cloud my vision.
I should feel better now that Nicole was in custody, but the tight clenching fist of fear was still there. It would probably be only a matter of time before the media trespassed on the estate to get a photo or quote from us. The best thing was to leave the country till the drama blew over.
I was completely packed and ready. We were supposed to leave tomorrow on Richard’s private plane. We would have to land in Fiji and then take a helicopter to the island. I couldn’t wait. It was just going to be me and Richard and nothing but white sand and blue water. Heaven.
Picking up the newspaper again, I flipped to the article page. There was another smaller photo of Richard in a tuxedo standing next to Nicole. Apparently, they were linked socially for a brief period of time, but there was no speculation it was serious. After their breakup she had spent time in Bahrain, where the newspaper claimed she became radicalized.
According to the investigators, she had left a trail of damning evidence.
Where had I heard that phrase before? A trail of evidence?
Harris. It was Harris, in the hospital. The conversation I wasn’t supposed to have overheard after Richard got out of surgery.
“Is phase two all set?” asked Richard.
“They’d have to be blind and stupid to not pick up on the damning trail of evidence I left.”
The same sense of cold unease settled in my stomach.
Continuing to read, there was a quote from her barrister, claiming someone had framed Nicole. He stated that the evidence implicating his client was almost too perfect not to be planted and was pressing for a quick trial to vindicate her.
Elizabeth, I will handle this my way. That is what Richard had said when I had asked why he wasn’t telling the police about the phone with the threatening photos.
I knew all too well how Richard liked to handle things.
No. It wasn’t possible. Even Richard wouldn’t take things that far.
It was our wedding! The queen was in attendance!
No, it was ludicrous to even think it.
Despite my weak assurances to myself, I continued to read.
Just as I was finishing the article, the end of a riding crop appeared at the top of the page. It slowly crushed the newspaper down to reveal Richard standing over me in riding attire.
I had been caught. There was no way he didn’t see the large photo of Nicole on the front page. I held my breath, waiting to see what my punishment would be.
Taking his riding crop, he slapped the leather tongue against his palm.
“I had finished early and thought I would surprise you with a final horseback ride through the countryside before we left tomorrow.” His voice was deceptively calm.
I knew better.
I stared at the evil-looking riding crop, remembering the stinging pain it caused.
Garbled memories flashed across my mind from the time I was first brought to this estate. Memories of Richard standing before me in the same dark, tight-fitting frock coat and buff breeches tucked into polished black riding boots holding that same riding crop.
I see you have not given up your fits of temper.
I tried to stop the flood of memories of me begging Richard as he grabbed me by the upper arm and dragged me across the conservatory to a dark corner. The feel of the riding crop punishing my naked breasts. The humiliating memory of him forcing the handle deep inside me… deep inside my… no, stop!
It was in the past.
All in the past.
We knew better now than to play such dangerous games with one another.
Richard had changed.
At least I hoped he had changed.
Richard took the crumpled newspaper from my hands and set it aside, then drew me up from my seat. His arms wrapped around me. I could feel the shaft of the riding crop pressing against my back. A subtle threat.
Giving me a chaste kiss on the forehead, he said, “It’s a beautiful morning, my love. I think it would be better spent enjoying it rather than dwelling on… unpleasant memories. Why don’t you change into your blue riding habit and join me?”
I let out the breath I had been holding. Going up on my toes, I gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll get dressed and be right back.”
As I hurried to do his bidding, I felt relief pour over me.
See? He’d changed.
Things would be just fine.
Nicole was no longer a threat, and we were leaving for our honeymoon tomorrow morning.
Everything would be perfect from this point forward.
Chapter 26
Lizzie
Vomo Island, Fiji, South Pacific
As the helicopter circled the island, I cupped the microphone attached to my headphones and called out to Richard, “It’s gorgeous!”
He placed an arm on my shoulder and leaned over to point out the window. Speaking into his own microphone, he said, “It’s two hundred twenty-five acres. The highest point is Mt. Vomo. The panoramic views from the summit are amazing. I’ll take you up there tomorrow.”
“Is it a volcano?”
Richard nodded yes.
My mouth dropped open. “Oh, my God, Richard! Is it safe?”
His thumb caressed the back of my neck. “Don’t worry, litt
le one. It’s an extinct volcano. It’s perfectly safe.”
Just the thought of standing on top of a volcano, even an extinct one, with the possibility of all that heat and hot lava energy just beneath the surface made my stomach flip with apprehension and excitement.
As the helicopter navigated to the southeast corner of the island where the helipad was located, Richard told me more about the island’s history. How it was once used as a ceremonial meeting place for chiefs from the surrounding Fiji islands and then as a vacation spot for the royal family.
Richard had bought it only a few months ago from a distant royal relation.
Looking over the lush greenery, the sparkling pearl beaches and the insanely crystal-clear blue water, it already felt like paradise.
We stepped off the helicopter onto the tarmac. A man dressed in khaki shorts and a button-down short-sleeved white shirt came running up to us.
“Welcome, Your Graces. My name is Timoci, and I am honored to assist you. We prepared the villa for your arrival. With your permission, I can oversee the unloading of your luggage if you’d like to take the Jeep,” he offered, holding out the keys to Richard.
“Thank you, Timoci,” replied Richard, clapping him on the shoulder. “We could only bring a few bags with us this trip. The helicopter is returning with the rest of our luggage.”
Timoci nodded his head. “I will see it taken care of, Your Grace.” Turning, he gestured to a gate on the other side of the tarmac. “Through that gate, you will find the primary road. Just follow that and you will see the villa.”
Taking my hand, Richard led me to the silver Jeep, which looked nothing like any Jeep I had ever seen. It looked like a mash-up between a Jeep and a monster truck.
Laughing, I asked, “What kind of Jeep is this?”
Richard helped me climb into my seat before moving to the driver’s side. Hopping into the vehicle, he responded, “It’s called a Jeep Hurricane. It was never officially on the market.”