Dangerous Love

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Dangerous Love Page 18

by Kara Leigh Miller


  She was sitting up, reading a book when he came to her bedroom door. She looked so lovely sitting there, her knees up under the covers, her hair falling softly over her shoulders, slightly messy from sleep, her gaze moving along the page in rapt attention. Whether she was in a beautiful dress, as she had been last night, or a demure nightgown, as she was right now, looking at her kicked him in the stomach, every time. He wasn’t sure he had ever wanted like this—with anyone. She caught his attention and squealed slightly. He laughed from deep in his belly while she gave him a mockingly evil glare.

  “You scared me,” she said, a laugh sneaking through.

  “I didn’t mean to.” He moved to the bed, sat down beside her. He was torturing himself being this close to her, but it was worth it. “What are you reading?”

  “The Zoo. I couldn’t sleep last night and I found it on the bookshelf. I hope that’s okay.” She moved over slightly so he had more room. The bed was warm, and the sun coming in from the windows added to that. Perhaps the weather would ease up for a while. He was tired of the rain and the cold. He frowned when he realized she had been up in the middle of the night and he hadn’t known.

  “Why didn’t you come to me?” he asked softly, touching her face.

  Her expression changed from serene to shocked to nervous. “I honestly didn’t think you would mind.” She put the book down. When she cast her gaze downward, he realized she thought he was upset about the book. He put one hand on the other side of her legs, which she straightened.

  “I don’t mind you getting the book. That’s not what I meant. Alessa, you have to stop that.”

  She looked back up again, her lips pressed tightly together. “Stop what?”

  “Stop thinking the worst. My house is your house. You can have or take anything in it you want. You don’t need permission. Ever. What I meant was, why didn’t you come to me when you couldn’t sleep?”

  Her cheeks turned a sweet shade of pink, and she lowered her gaze once again, fidgeting with the plain cotton comforter. He tilted his head, regarded her curiously. He used his fingers to gently nudge her chin upward.

  “Alessa?”

  “I didn’t want to wake you.” Her voice trembled slightly. His blood heated, and he ached to be closer to her. Leaning in, he kissed her softly, enjoying the warm taste of her lips and the softness of her skin.

  “Why couldn’t you sleep, Alessa?” he asked, feeling like he already knew. Likely the same reason he’d been tossing and turning.

  She pulled back and frowned at him. “This. You. It’s driving me crazy,” she said in a harsh whisper, gesturing back and forth between them. He laughed, knowing his grin was a tad arrogant, but he was glad he wasn’t alone in his feelings.

  “Hmm. This?” he murmured, taking her lips again, then moving his to her jaw and trailing kisses just below her ear. He felt like he had won a medal when he felt her shiver against him. She gripped his T-shirt, scratching him slightly with her nails.

  “Yes. This.”

  She changed the tone of the kiss by deepening it and once again, he was lost in her. He put his hands into her hair and wound it through his fingers, loving the sounds of her breathing and the sweetness of her breath. He was a strong man. He knew right from wrong. He knew he couldn’t have her while they weren’t committed to each other in every way. It wasn’t fair to her, and it wasn’t how he was raised. She tested his self-control to an alarmingly dangerous degree. Pulling back slightly, he noticed the look of confusion on her face.

  “Not yet, sweetheart,” he murmured, kissing the tip of her nose.

  “But—” she protested, making him grin.

  “I have to go to work for a bit. I need to talk to the Chief of Staff.” Her lips formed an adorable little pout that made him regret his restraint.

  “Oh. Of course. You’re not in any trouble are you?” She leaned back slightly, and he stood, figuring a bit of distance would help.

  “No. I don’t think so. But I need to talk to him. I’m going to resign from the hospital.” He watched her reaction carefully.

  Her eyes widened, and she pushed herself up, tangling herself in the sheets in her effort to stand. “Josh! What? No!”

  “Honey, it’s okay.” He moved closer, putting his hands on her bare arms. They were slightly chilled despite the warmth of the room. He’d planned to talk about this later, but he didn’t want her worrying. “It’s what I want. I’ve been thinking about it for some time. Even before I met you I had been thinking about getting out of the hospital. The hours are wrecking me. It didn’t matter for a while because the hours were also . . . saving me in a way. But now, I want to come home at a reasonable time every night. I still want to help people. I can’t imagine not being a doctor. But I want to be more than that. I want more than that.”

  She stepped back, and he wondered what she was thinking. He checked his watch again and knew he needed to leave. Her face was clouded with worry, and he could almost see the questions forming in her head.

  “Alessa, I have to go, honey. We’ll talk about this when I get home, okay?”

  She nodded, but didn’t smile. He took her hands and pulled her in for a gentle, easy kiss.

  “Is it okay if I use the computer?” she asked.

  He frowned. “Alessa.”

  “I forgot.”

  “Don’t forget this: everything I have is yours. Do not ask. Please,” he said.

  She nodded and though he didn’t want to leave when she looked so uncertain, he had no choice.

  * * * *

  As he walked into the hospital, Josh felt at peace with his decision. He knew what he wanted, and he knew how to get it. First, he needed to let go of his past, entirely. He found Chief Grayson in his office and was respectful enough of the Chief’s position to know Josh hadn’t made things easy on him.

  “Josh,” greeted the statuesque man. His thick, well-trimmed moustache made his mouth seem like it was constantly frowning. He was a friendly, kind-hearted man and had always been fairer than Josh deserved, in Josh’s own opinion. Josh reached out to shake Chief Grayson’s hand. His own hand was swallowed up.

  “How are you, Chief?”

  “I’m well. Things are going good around here. Knock on wood. I’ve probably jinxed us for sure now.” He sat back down and gave a hearty laugh.

  Josh had always thought if things went upside down, the Chief was a man you wanted on your side. Cool, collected, and an excellent surgeon, he was a well-respected man.

  “So how are you, Josh?” the Chief asked, the moustache angling downward.

  Josh took a deep breath and a seat. “Honestly? I’m great. I’m feeling better than I have since . . .” Josh took another steadying breath. So much of who he was had happened in this hospital and most of the staff knew his story.

  “It’s been a rough road,” Chief Grayson supplied, holding his fingers under his chin. Josh nodded, swallowing the unexpected lump in his throat. He might be ready for this step, but it didn’t mean saying goodbye to an entire chapter, several chapters, of his life was easy.

  “I want to tender my resignation,” Josh said on a quick breath, pulling an envelope from his inside pocket with the letter he’d typed up the night before. He passed it over. The Chief hesitated, and his eyes took on a deep shadow. Finally, he reached out his hand and accepted the letter. He placed it down on the desk in front of him, keeping his gaze on Josh.

  “I can’t say I’m surprised, but I can say I’m disappointed. We’re better with you than without, but I understand.”

  It was exactly the kind of sentiment Josh had come to expect of him and truly, it was a comfort to hear it. “I’m going to open my own practice,” Josh revealed, saying the words aloud for the first time.

  “It’ll be a good fit for you.”

  They chatted a few more moments before the Chief got paged. Josh stood and looked around after the Chief hurried out. When he had started at the hospital, he wondered if he would one day occupy this very office. Leaving
it, he wasn’t sorry at all he’d never gone after that position. It wasn’t for him. What was for him was becoming clearer every day. He was close to whistling when he walked down the corridor. He was about to text David and let him know he was there when he saw his friend glance up from a chart and look directly at him. Josh gave a wave, watched as David handed off the chart to a nurse and came barreling toward him. The smell of antiseptic and cleaner seemed different now that he’d been away from it for a few days, and the smell was making his throat scratchy.

  “Josh.” David’s voice was brisk and low as he came forward and gestured that they move off to the side of the hallway. One of the janitors passed by with her cart. Josh waved hello.

  “I was just going to text you.”

  “Likewise. What is going on?” hissed David. He bent his head toward Josh as though that would somehow make Josh understand him better.

  “I just gave my resignation. You couldn’t have heard already,” Josh replied, puzzled.

  “What?” David’s voice rose and sounded truly shocked. He shook his head and stared at Josh with a stunned expression. He shook his head again and waved his hand dismissively. “We’ll come back to that. Someone named John Monroe showed up asking about Alessa. Seemed like a slick-talking business type. He was asking a lot of questions that were getting answered by one of the interns until I showed up.”

  Josh’s heart raced with fear as David told him this. Who would be looking for Alessa? Why? It could be family. A husband? No. She would know. Besides, something about this felt dark, dark enough that a chill ran up his spine. He pulled his phone out and went with his gut when he typed a name—Raymond Scotts—into Google. He pulled up images and turned his phone so David could see the screen.

  “Was this him?” Josh’s voice shook with anger.

  “Yes. That’s not the name though.”

  David tried to take the phone to get a closer look, but Josh pulled away. “I have to go.” He was already dialing his home number, praying for Alessa to pick up.

  “Josh!” David called after him, but Josh ignored him, breaking into a run. He needed to get to Alessa. Now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Alessa yawned and rubbed her eyes. She hadn’t been awake that long, but looking through papers and staring at the computer screen was making her sleepy. She started to look through online ads for jobs. Most of her memories had come without warning when she was in the middle of something else. She hoped looking at the various jobs would just naturally guide her toward what she might have done. Do I work anywhere? Has anyone reported me missing? It upset her to think maybe she had lived such a solitary life no one had realized she was gone.

  Alessa tried to blink the dryness from her eyes. She stretched and stood up, wondering what time Josh would be home. Looking at the clock, she wondered if she had enough time to lie down. Don’t be lazy. She decided to do some laundry and went to her room to gather her share.

  “Not much here,” she commented to herself. Grabbing the dress she had worn last night, smiling at the memory of being at the aquarium with Josh, she noticed a bag on the floor of the closet. She hadn’t noticed it before, but she hadn’t used the closet much. The room she was sleeping in had an elegant white dresser that she stored her clothes in.

  Alessa picked up the bag and tried to unzip it. It felt like there was something inside of it, which made her curious. She moved to the bed and yanked harder on the stuck zipper. It parted very slightly. Now it was pure stubbornness pushing her curiosity. Her hand slipped off of the pull and scratched her index finger. Tears pushed to the surface as she tried again. Don’t cry! There’s nothing to cry about! But it was just one more thing she couldn’t figure out, and it was so frustrating. She couldn’t get it loose. Gritting her teeth, she slipped her fingers into the small opening she’d created and tugged both sides, trying to pull them apart. The teeth bit into her fingers as her vision blurred. Tears, memories, dizziness assaulted her as she continued to pull, to fight. When she drew blood, she whimpered, the headache slamming into the back of her skull like a sledgehammer.

  She collapsed on the bed, pushing the bag to the other side. Closing her eyes, she curled into herself with her finger, slightly bloody, between her lips and she sucked on the throbbing digit. She could no longer see through the tears or the headache. With each stab of pain, memories and moments washed over her, stealing her breath. Stealing her ability to reach for the phone, crying, hurting, and truly frightened by what she finally remembered.

  The crash of a lamp broke her fall. The sounds of screams echoed around her. They were definitely her own and maybe his.

  “You worthless, no good, piece of trash. You think you can ruin me? Is that what you want?” he raged, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her to her knees. “You think you can damage me?” he spit through clenched teeth. His fist slammed into her jaw, fracturing it with a sickening crack.

  The tears fell, but she could make no sound. Her throat was clogged with blood and tears. He shook her head, pulled her upright until she was on her feet. He dragged her to his desk where only a few moments before she had been searching. She had known he left his phone in the top drawer when he wasn’t using it, and she had only wanted to quickly check if there were fresh emails. She had called for a taxi already.

  Though she had struggled to pack calmly, her zipper had caught on her travel bag—his travel bag, the one she had slipped from his closet when he kissed her cheek and went into the shower. She knew she had less than twenty minutes to get packed, get out. The cab would be here. Waiting out front while he shoved her face down to his desk. He opened the drawer and stuck her face almost inside of it. It smelled like wood and the whiskey he kept one drawer down.

  She heard herself whisper, “Please.”

  He laughed, hard and cold, the laugh of a man enjoying himself. “You’ll be begging all right. I’m going to love listening to you beg. You didn’t find what you were looking for in here, did you?”

  His phone hadn’t been there when she’d snuck in on her way to the door. Why hadn’t she let it go? She had enough information. The taxi would take her to Staten Island. She had enough money, enough information to get away from him for good. She would go. She would be okay. But he’d never intended to shower. He had known. Hadn’t he told her he would always know? That he would know her every move and for every wrong one, he would break a bone. Snap. Pinky finger, broken.

  “I would have made you into something. You’re nothing. You’ve always been nothing. But I would have made you something.” He released her hair by shoving her away from him; she tripped backward, disoriented, and fell to the floor.

  “You lied about everything,” she spat back with a shaky, but audible voice. She had trusted him when he told her he cared for her and he loved her. He would make her his wife one day. Of course, his bitter divorce battle he’d hid from the world would have gotten in the way of that. She wasn’t sure why he insisted she come work from his home, the one he didn’t share with his wife, when he must have known she’d find out everything. Or maybe he had thought she was too stupid. He was partially correct.

  “Did you think I really loved you? I was attracted to you. Still am,” he said, his voice lazy and unhurried as he straddled her where she had fallen. She flinched, tried to buck him off, but he was easily a hundred pounds heavier than her. His dark hair fell into his eye in a way that had once made her smile. Now it made her stomach turn like a swift current.

  He put his hands around her neck, applying pressure to cause terror, but not enough to stop her breath in her throat. “I thought if I had you here, you’d fall in line. You’re a beautiful decoy Alessandra. When you stand by my side, half of what I say is ignored in this backward, redneck town. All they see is you, your charm and innocence. They’re so easily snowed. Like lambs to a slaughterhouse, so dazzled by the pretty girl that they don’t see the man behind them can do anything he wants. Once I get the votes here, it’ll be upward for me. I would hav
e let you trail behind me, let you lick up the crumbs of my success. But instead,” he sneered, gave her an open handed slap, “you want to bring me down. Expose me.” Another hard slap shook her teeth. His fist clenched, tight into a massive, meaty ball, his arm pulled back so he could add momentum. Before it touched her face, the door burst open.

  “What do you want?” he screamed. Alessandra didn’t open her eyes to see whom he yelled at. She knew well enough by now there was no one in this house that would help her, save her.

  “Boss. There’s a taxi driver here. Says a woman called. Said she sounded scared and crying, and he’s blustering about, wanting to know if she’s okay,” one of his lackeys explained, apology and fear lacing his voice. Raymond’s fist unclenched, and he patted Alessandra’s cheek, his smooth hand on her battered skin.

  “See that? You can charm perfect strangers with just the sound of your voice, never mind those big, brown eyes. Well, black eyes now, but you know what I mean,” he said, laughing over the words. He stood up, straightened his unusually wrinkled dress shirt, adjusted his tie and nudged her with his black, shiny shoe. “Take care of her for good. Make sure it doesn’t come back to me or it’ll be you next.”

  With one last look of disgust, Raymond walked out of her line of vision. Frankie came to her side, squatted down. He moved a strand of hair from her eyes, but as it was matted with blood, he ended up just pulling it. He pursed his lips, looked her up and down.

  “Sorry, doll,” he muttered then said, “What a waste.” When the full weight of his fist connected with her face, everything stopped. Stopped hurting. Stopped existing. Stopped being real.

  She struggled and gasped and pushed back against the hands that were trapping her, shaking her, trying to keep her from getting away. “No. Please, no more,” she begged.

  “Alessa, honey. Wake up. Wake up, baby. It’s okay.” Josh’s voice broke through the misery that drowned her, suffocated her. His hands pulled her closer so she could smell his cologne, the subtle scent of his soap.

 

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