by Pamela Clare
But where was Margaux? What if she were unable to reach Tessa's right ankle? What if she were dead?
Please don't be dead! Please don't be dead!
Teetering between hope and dread, Tessa lay still—and waited.
"Enough fucking around!" Burien shouted. "Where is your cell phone, Darcangelo?"
"I think Igor took it." Julian bit his lip as if trying to remember. "Or maybe I let it drop into the bushes outside your gate to give the cops a signal to follow."
Another kidney punch.
This time Julian's knees seemed about to buckle.
Then Tessa felt the cold brush of Margaux's fingers on her right ankle and nearly moaned with relief. But it was clear that whatever strength Margaux had was fading. Several times her fingers stilled or slipped away, and Tessa was certain each time that she had died. But finally the leather slipped away, and Tessa's right ankle was free.
One excruciating inch at a time, she pulled herself upward, praying no one would notice her movements. Closer, closer, closer. And then she was there, her teeth sinking into the thick leather that bound her right wrist, tugging, pulling until it was free.
Someone's cell phone rang, playing Bach.
Tessa froze.
Burien reached inside his pocket, drew out his phone, and shouted into it in Russian, his gun still pointed at Julian's chest. Then he tucked the phone back in his pocket, the look on his face changing from anger to panicked fury. He lifted his pistol and pointed it at Julian's face.
"There's a line of cop cars on their way up the canyon. I am told there is a SWAT team with them. I'm afraid I have to cut our conversation short. I have a helicopter to catch."
The breath left Tessa's lungs in a rush as she realized what Burien meant to do.
He was going to shoot Julian at point-blank range—and make a run for it.
Desperate, she reached beneath herself with her one free hand and grabbed the pistol.
"But what am I thinking? Ladies first, of course." Burien turned toward Tessa.
"Not this time!" She met his gaze and, heart in her throat, pulled the trigger.
What happened next was a blur.
Burien's shriek of pain. His rage as he knocked the gun from her hand. The barrel of his pistol as it hovered before her face. Julian somehow kicking Burien in the side of the head. An explosion of gunfire. Igor crumpling. Burien sinking lifeless to the floor.
And then Julian was there, unbinding her wrist, pulling her against him, wrapping her in a blanket. "Are you all right, Tessa? Talk to me, honey!"
But she could barely think, much less talk. "H-help Mar-gaux. S-she untied—"
"I saw, honey. She's dead."
So much death, so much blood.
From somewhere nearby came a voice on a bullhorn. "Freeze! Police!"
"It's over, Tessa." He kissed her hair. "Let's get you out of here, away from this mess."
Trembling uncontrollably, Tessa burrowed into the strength of Julian's embrace, felt him lift her into his arms, the tears she'd held back finally spilling down her cheeks.
Though his job was far from done, Julian stayed beside Tessa when a detective took her statement. He rode with her in the ambulance down the winding canyon into Denver, holding her hand while the EMTs examined her for shock, possible concussion, and the lingering effects of heroin overdose. He stayed with her in the emergency room while the nurse took her vitals and started an IV—and then insisted on treating the cut on his temple.
And then, finally, they were alone.
He kissed Tessa's bruised cheek, his heart full of emotion he didn't know how to express—and terrible questions he didn't know how to ask. "Whatever he did to you, Tessa, however he hurt you, I know you can get through it."
She lay in the hospital bed wearing a blue-and-white hospital gown, her long curls tumbled out across the white pillow. "He didn't… He didn't rape me, if that's what you're thinking. He was waiting for me to wake up."
Julian released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "I wouldn't have gotten there at all if you weren't so damned smart. You don't remember doing it, do you—giving me your secret message?"
She frowned. "I remember wishing I could warn you about Margaux, but then…"
"You did warn me." He sang the little rhyme that spelled part of Margaux*s name, ran his thumb over Tessa's cheek. "If it weren't for your quick thinking, I wouldn't have found you. I wouldn't have found him. You brave, smart, beautiful woman."
Her eyes filled with tears again. "I'm not brave. I was terrified! I was afraid of what he might do to me, of what he planned to do to you. I was afraid I'd never see you again."
And then she told him how she'd heard a knock on the door and had grabbed her revolver, knowing something was wrong because the alarm hadn't gone off. How she'd let Mar-gaux in, thinking Margaux had come with information about the e-mails. How she'd heard boots on the porch and had tried to slam the door. How the men had forced it open. How she'd shot one of them—only to find herself on the floor, the breath kicked out of her.
"I tried to fight them, tried to crawl away, but the guy who was with her held me down, grabbed my arm, and shot me up with something. I remember knowing you would blame yourself and thinking how terrible that would be. After that…"
"You were worried about how I'd feell" Her unselfish sweetness pierced him, made it harder to control the torrent inside him. "Jesus, Tessa!"
"Of course I was worried about how you'd feel! You hold yourself responsible for everything. If I'd disappeared forever or been killed—"
"I should have been there. I should have realized Margaux was the leak."
"See what I mean?" She gave him a shaky smile, her cheeks wet with tears. "Idiot."
Then she told him how she'd awoken to find Burien beside her. How she'd been terrified to realize she was tied to his bed. How she'd tried to act like Burien didn't scare her, even insulting him, in hopes that it would allow her to get the best of him somehow.
"You insulted him?"
Amazed, Julian listened as Tessa recounted her confrontation with Burien, from her comments about the probable small size of his penis to her calling him a pathetic bully and flinging his years as a petty drug dealer in his face. It scared the hell out of him even to think of her in that situation—helpless, desperate, and mouthing off.
"Then he pulled out a knife, and I thought…" Her voice broke, the anguish on her sweet face making his stomach knot. "It was all I could do not to scream."
Julian held her, let her sob out her fear, her tears seeming to release some of the pent-up tension inside him, as well. He'd come so close to never finding her, so close to losing her, so close to watching her die. He felt grateful just to hold her, grateful just to be near her, grateful for whatever miracle had gotten them both to this moment alive.
"I wish I could take this away from you, Tessa. I wish somehow I could change things so that you'd never even heard of Burien. I wish you'd never had to fire a gun or watch somebody die. But I can't change it. I can't fix it."
Slowly her tears subsided, her body still shaking. She looked up at him. "W-why do you think Margaux helped me in the end?"
"Revenge against Burien. Nothing more. I think she believed he loved her."
"He was a monster. I don't regret pulling the trigger."
"And you say you're not brave?" He kissed her hair, her forehead, her salty cheeks. "God, Tessa, when I think how close he came to killing you, it scares the hell out of me."
She gave a weak laugh. "Nothing scares you."
"That's not true." He stroked her hair, savored the feel of it. "I got home just in time to see them roll a gumey with a body bag on it out of the house. I thought it was you, Tessa. I thought I'd lost you, and it seemed to me the whole world had died. And then I unzipped it and saw that man's face. And even though the relief almost knocked me on my ass, I was still terrified, because I knew Burien had you."
Tell her you love her, Darcangelo! Say it!
A knock came at the door, and the doctor stepped in.
The moment passed.
In short order, Julian was booted into the hallway to wait and to wrestle his demons while the doctor examined her. Only when the nurses wouldn't quit staring at him did he realize he still wasn't wearing a shirt. He decided to make the best of it.
He smiled. "Is there a phone I can borrow? I seem to have gotten here without my cell phone or my wallet."
"You've got some bruises, emotional trauma, and a possible mild concussion, but nothing dangerous or life threatening," the doctor said, looking up from Tessa's chart. He was a young man, not much older than she was. "There's no doubt you came close to a fatal overdose, but it's mostly out of your system now. I'd like to keep the IV going and keep you here overnight for observation."
"Is that really necessary?" Tessa felt silly being in the hospital when nothing was wrong with her. "I'm not really hurt."
"I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't think it medically prudent. We advise at least twenty-four hours of observation when it comes to possible head injuries."
"Oh." Then she asked the question she'd been burning to ask. "How soon can a test show whether a woman is pregnant?"
"Our most sensitive tests won't show a pregnancy until a few days after you miss your period. Do you think you might be pregnant?"
"I'm not due to start my period until next week. I was wondering if heroin could hurt a developing baby."
The doctor nibbled his lip for a moment, frowning. "I'm not really sure, to tell you the truth. But if you miss your period, wait a few days and get tested. I'm sure a good obstetrician will have the answer. Let me go get your friend and explain what we're doing. He's pacing the hall out here, distracting the nurses with his Tarzan attire."
Tessa didn't like the idea of a bunch of fluttery Florence Nightingales staring at Julian's chest. "Doctor, could he borrow some scrubs or something?"
The doctor grinned. "Sure."
In a few moments, Julian reappeared, wearing a green shirt and followed by the doctor, who was explaining to him why it was best for Tessa that they keep her overnight.
"It's just for observation. We'll make sure she gets a good night's sleep and keep an eye on her. If she's still stable tomorrow morning, we'll discharge her."
"Sleep?" Tessa couldn't imagine sleeping, not with the bloody images that crowded her head. "I don't think that's going to happen, not after today, not after…"
But the doctor just smiled. "You want to bet on that?"
The doctor wished them both well and went off on his rounds. Tessa found herself quickly moved to a private room on the third floor with a view of the city's twinkling lights.
She gazed at the lights, feeling oddly detached. "It seems strange to me that one minute we're in the world of a crazy killer who controls the lives of so many people—and the next we're sitting here, safe and sound, among people who are oblivious to what happens out there."
"They won't be oblivious once you write your article. You'll let them know the truth. You'll be a voice for Maria and all the other people hurt by traffickers."
"I guess you're right." Tessa had almost forgotten about that.
Then Julian took her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. "I'm sorry, Tessa. I have to go. Irving's got a squad car waiting for me. I have to finish it."
She looked up at him, startled. "But Burien's dead."
"Yes, but his empire still stands. There's a power vacuum now, and we need to move quickly, before someone fills it. With the records from his computer, we ought to be able to piece together exactly what he's been doing and bring a stop to it. There are girls out there—girls like Maria. I need to find them."
Tessa nodded, feeling terribly selfish for wanting him to stay. "I understand."
There was so much they needed to talk about, so much still left unresolved between them—their feelings, their relationship, the possibility of a baby. But it would have to wait. It was enough tonight that they were both still alive.
"I might be called out of the state for a while, but I'll be back as soon as I can. Is there anyone you want me to call?"
My mother.
The thought popped into her mind, but it had been too long since she'd called her mother for anything, and she couldn't bring herself to say it. "No."
"Here we go." A smiling dark-haired nurse breezed through the door, a syringe in hand. "The doctor ordered a sedative to help you sleep."
Julian frowned. "Is that safe, given what's already in her bloodstream?"
The nurse nodded. "The doctor explained your other concerns, as well, and I checked with the pharmacy to make sure it's harmless."
Tessa knew the nurse was talking about her possible pregnancy. "Thanks."
"Do you need anything else?" the nurse asked.
Tessa met Julian's gaze, forced herself to sound untroubled. "I'm fine."
The nurse injected a clear liquid directly into Tessa's IV, and almost immediately Tessa felt herself begin to relax.
"Julian?" She held fast to his hand, managed to smile. "Rescue those girls, but please be careful! I won't be there this time to watch your back."
He chuckled, brushed his lips over hers. "Nothing's going to happen to me. Close your eyes, angel. Try to sleep."
Chapter 28
Tessa awoke from a deep night's sleep to see sunshine beating against the curtains of her hospital room. Looking down at her was a face she hadn't seen in ten years.
"Mama?"
Her mother took her hand, squeezed it. "You're awake."
For a moment, they just looked at each other. And then they were hugging and laughing and crying at the same time, the rush of emotion taking Tessa completely by surprise—joy, regret, relief.
After a few minutes, her mother released her, reached for a box of tissues, and grabbed one for each of them. They wiped their tears away, still laughing.
"God, I'm happy to see you, Tessa Marie. The officer who called told me some of what happened, and I been worried sick. I got here last night, but I didn't want to wake you up."
"You stayed here last night?" Something warm blossomed in Tessa's belly.
"Of course I did! Where else would I be when my girl is in the hospital? I slept in here where I could keep an eye on you."
Warmth turned to a sticky feeling of guilt.
Tessa had turned her back on her mother, abandoned her, denied her existence for ten years. And her mother had spent their first hours together again in a chair, watching over her. "That couldn't have been too comfortable."
"Oh, I was fine! The chair folds out like a little bed, and one of them nurses brought me a blanket. They been real nice."
Tessa couldn't help but smile. "You look good, Mom."
It was true. Her mother's once long hair was cut to just beneath the shoulders, her blond curls shot through with streaks of gray. There were a few wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, friendly wrinkles. But it was the look in her eyes that struck Tessa most. She looked happier than Tessa had ever seen her.
"Well, I'm gettin' older, but look at you! You're so pretty, Tessa. Like a little china doll all grown up. But listen to me chatter! Do you need anything? Can I get you anything?"
"No, I'm fine."
"Well, I don't know about 'fine.' I don't think any woman who's been through what you been through can say she's 'fine,' at least not before she's gotten it off her chest by tellin' her mama all about it."
Her mother's blatant nosiness made Tessa laugh, but she found herself telling the story from the beginning, taking care not to reveal Julian's name, but leaving out nothing else from Maria's murder to the moment she'd pulled the trigger and shot Burien.
Her mother sat in the chair and listened wide-eyed, her expression ranging from fear to outrage to shock. When Tessa started to tremble, memories rousing the fear she'd tried to sleep off, her mother took her hand and held it tight. That simple touch was like a lifeline. Then when her story was done, her mother stood and
hugged her close.
"I'm so sorry for what you been through. I can't even imagine it. But it's all right now. That son of a bitch is in hell where he belongs, and you've got a good man watchin' over you. It was him who called me, wasn't it?"
"I think so." Somehow Julian had known what she'd needed even though she hadn't been able to admit it, even to herself. "I love him, Mama."
"I know."
A knock at the door interrupted their conversation as a nurse arrived to check Tessa's vitals and deliver a late breakfast tray.
"I know it looks like a medical experiment," the nurse joked, "but it's actually an omelet. We try to keep the food here really terrible so patients won't mind going home."
While Tessa ate breakfast—the food was actually much better than the nurse had led her to believe—her mother shared the news from Rosebud, catching Tessa up on ten years of gossip in record time. Then she told Tessa more about Frank. But as her mother spoke, the food began to stick in Tessa's throat, until finally she pushed the tray aside.
"Aren't you hungry?" her mother asked.
Tessa looked into her mother's eyes. "I'm sorry, Mama. I'm sorry I left you the way I did. I'm sorry I didn't—"
"You hush about that." Her mother took her hand. "I know why you left, and I never blamed you a day for it."
"I should have called. I should have stayed in touch."
"You sent money every month, regular as clockwork."
"Money is just money. I should have called."
"You had a lot on your mind—college, gettin' a job, workin' at the paper."
Her mother was trying to let her off the hook, but Tessa's conscience would have none of it. "Was I so busy that I couldn't pick up a phone for ten years! All my friends think I'm from Georgia. They have no idea I grew up in Texas. I let them believe—"
Her mother patted her hand. "Let me tell you a story. It's about a fourteen-year-old girl who grew up with a mean drunk for a daddy and a boneless mama. She hated livin' at home. She hated the ugliness. She hated the smell of whisky. She hated being poor. She hated the way the other kids made fun of her. More than anything, she wanted to get out, to see the world."