Dangerous Love

by Kara Leigh Miller

“Josh. There’s no way to avoid telling the police. This is bigger than we can handle. This isn’t some punk threatening your high school girlfriend,” Ethan said, his reasonable tone shaking slightly.

  Josh slapped the lid shut on the box and glared at his friend. “I get that, Ethan. Trust me, I get that. But no police. Not yet. Let’s deal with the break in and get them out of here. We need to get to the girls.”

  Ethan’s face darkened as though the thought of Alessa and Amanda being in danger had just occurred to him. He pulled his phone back out of his pocket. “I’ll call Amanda and see where they are.”

  Josh nodded. “Don’t say anything about this. Tell them we’ll be an hour or so behind them. And definitely don’t say anything about Kristy.” That was the last thing Alessa needed to worry about right now. Josh would figure out a way to save Kristy, hopefully without Alessa ever finding out.

  Ethan walked toward the kitchen and though Josh knew it went against his instincts, he pocketed the phone Raymond or his goons had left. He met Josh’s gaze as he did this, and the two shared a look of understanding—a mutual desire to keep the women they loved safe, no matter what the cost.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Amanda tried to make Alessa feel like it was a road trip. While Alessa appreciated the gesture, it was harder to pretend nothing was going on than it was to face the fact so much was happening.

  “I’m sorry about all of this, Amanda,” Alessa said again. The music played softly. Alessa tried to imagine what the soundtrack to her life would include right now—probably not the mellow music that filled the car.

  “It’s not your fault. We’ll get through this. Everything will be okay,” Amanda replied, shoulder checking and changing lanes.

  Alessa’s brain felt full—too full—like there wasn’t enough room for all she remembered and all she had learned. “I wish I had your faith. It would make everything so much easier.”

  Amanda glanced over at her briefly with an understanding expression. “Faith is like anything else. You have to work at it. Mine hasn’t always been unshakable.”

  Alessa wanted to know more about her and wanted to truly be friends with Amanda, but she couldn’t help feeling that right now, she was the worst luck for anyone who got involved with her. Amanda and Ethan, Josh—they didn’t deserve all that she was bringing into their lives.

  “You don’t seem very shaky.” Alessa leaned her seat back slightly and adjusted the seat belt so it felt less like a noose.

  “It’s not my fight. It makes it easier to be there for you,” Amanda said nonchalantly.

  Alessa swore to herself that, if given the chance, she would return the favor for Amanda. “What was—” she began, uncertain as to whether it was okay to pry, “what shook your faith?”

  They pulled off of the highway, and Alessa had a fleeting thought of traveling this road before. They weren’t that far from Josh’s house yet. Her memories had mostly returned, but pieces of her life still felt like they had black out curtains shielding them. She knew, vaguely, what was behind them but couldn’t quite see through.

  “I think everything that works against you can shake your faith. For me, it has been more than one thing. Laura’s death was hard on all of us,” Amanda replied.

  Alessa wasn’t sure why hearing her say that caused such an ache in her chest. Of course Amanda and Ethan felt Laura’s loss. Alessa hadn’t been thinking about the other dynamics that must have existed, outside of Josh and Laura.

  “You were friends,” Alessa murmured, just realizing it now. Jealousy was a useless, wasted emotion and completely ridiculous in this situation, but Alessa felt it anyway. She wanted the life Laura left behind. She wanted to be part of this family—Amanda’s friend. Josh’s . . . Josh’s everything. Alessa looked at Amanda’s elegant profile as she drove. She wondered about their parents. Josh didn’t speak of them often, but to be fair, her life had taken up most of their conversations.

  “Laura and I were friends. So, when she died, it hurt on two levels. I lost my friend and sister-in-law, but worse, I had to watch my brother blame himself.”

  Alessa fidgeted with the strap of her seatbelt. “Why would he blame himself?”

  “I think when you love someone with mental illness, you don’t truly grasp how little control you have over that person’s feelings or choices. Josh always thought if he tried harder, made her happier, worked less—somehow that would have fixed Laura. It was very hard to accept the fact that all of us did everything we could.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you lost your friend and that he lost his wife.” It was true. Could she want Josh the way she did and still have her words ring true? She hated the thought of any of these people she’d come to know and care about going through pain.

  “Thank you. But, time is a great healer. And faith doesn’t hurt. It’s important to focus your thoughts on the things you can control in your life and not what you can’t,” Amanda said.

  As they drove, Alessa tried to think about the things she could and could not control. The “can’t control” list seemed so much longer. She rested her head back against the seat and listened to the music play softly. Amanda’s ring was tapping against the steering wheel, keeping perfect time with the beat. She wondered if her heart and her mind would ever settle. It felt like she’d been on fast forward these last few hours, and she didn’t know how to stop and catch up. She thought of taking a bath, slipping into the soapy water and letting the steam and warmth wash over her. She pictured the bathtub in her apartment—claw-foot, porcelain, and deep. Her tiny bathroom where all that mattered was the tub, it was what drew her to the one bedroom in the aging building. Alessa’s eyes popped open. She sat upright.

  “My home! I know where I live!”

  The car swerved a tiny bit in response to Amanda jerking the wheel at Alessa’s sudden declaration. “Uh—okay.” Amanda’s eyes widened as she steadied her hands and the wheel.

  “Sorry. I just, I was thinking about relaxing, and the tub, and then my tub, and it just hit me. I know where I live. Take the next exit,” Alessa said in a hurried jumble of words. She rubbed her hands along her thighs in quick up and down motions, her heart beating faster than it should.

  “Is that the best idea? I mean, what if he’s there?”

  Alessa frowned and tried to recall details of how and when she was taken. She was taken. She had come from her apartment. She was going to . . . she blanked again. She remembered now who and what and why, but parts were still fuzzy.

  “He won’t be. It’s been weeks. He would’ve expected me to have gone home by now, and I haven’t, so he’s got his goons out searching for me.”

  “Yeah, but . . . wouldn’t he also have someone watching your place?” Amanda gave Alessa a sideways glance, her gaze concerned.

  Alessa hadn’t thought of that, but Amanda was right. That was something Raymond would do. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she needed to go home. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like there are missing pieces there. Being home will help me fit them into place. Please, Amanda,” she said, her eyes stinging. She hated not being able to explain her thoughts or her feelings, but there was an underlying urgency in her stomach that told her she needed to go home. Or to what she had thought of as home until Josh. Now, he was her home.

  “Use my phone. Call Ethan and Josh.” Amanda’s tone was resigned.

  Alessa picked up the phone that sat between them and pressed redial for Josh’s phone. It went to his voice mail immediately so she tried Ethan’s. It took a few rings, but it also went to voicemail. Butterflies raged in her stomach, but she told herself that both men were okay—they were fine. They had to be. She went back to Josh’s number and texted where they were going. She felt a slight surge of satisfaction when she was able to type in her address.

  “Okay, turn left at the lights,” Alessa said. It felt good to know where she was going. The details of when she was last in her apartment still felt foggy so if nothing else, she cou
ld get some fresh clothes—her own clothes—and maybe jog her memory. “I hope you know what we’re doing,” Amanda muttered.

  Alessa kept the “me too” to herself.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Raymond put his feet up on the cheap, wooden coffee table that looked like an old trunk. Sipping the bottle of soda he’d found in Alessa’s fridge, wishing it was something stronger; he stared at the whimpering woman before him. She was attractive, or had been when she’d knocked on the door and called Alessandra’s name. He’d opened the door and yanked her in before she had a chance to blink.

  “I didn’t hit you that hard. Stop blubbering. Are you ready to talk?” he asked. He could be conversational and reasonable. Wasn’t he trying to be both?

  Her dark eyes watched him, the right one swollen. Her cheek had a cut from his ring. The crimson blood had dried on her beautiful ebony skin in a long trail. She was shaking slightly, and the sight filled him with satisfaction. He put his soda down and lowered his feet. She was tethered nicely to one of the two rickety dining chairs Alessa had in her small kitchen. Perhaps the gag in her mouth was no longer necessary. He pushed it down from between her lips. She smelled of sweat and blood. It was somewhat nauseating. He wanted this over.

  “I don’t want to hurt you again. You understand that don’t you? Now, be a good girl and tell me where you think your pal might hide out.”

  Raymond traced one of his beefy fingers down Kristy’s cheek—the one without the blood. He couldn’t stay here forever. Maybe she didn’t know anything. Perhaps he should cut his losses and go. “How long have you known Alessandra?”

  “Since we were teenagers.” Kristy’s voice was raspy.

  “Would you like some water?”

  She nodded and looked at him pleadingly. He walked the few steps from the living area to the kitchen. He filled a glass with some tap water and brought it back to her, holding it to her lips. He was impressed with his own kindness. He wasn’t a barbarian, after all. And, he knew how to treat a woman.

  “Better?”

  She nodded again after she swallowed a loud gulp full.

  “Now, why are you here?”

  “I told you, Alessa hadn’t contacted me in weeks, and we always keep in touch. We’re each other’s family. I was worried.” She took a deep breath.

  Raymond ran his hand down her hair that had been tied up neatly when she’d arrived. “Hmmm. So neither of you have anyone but each other? That’s so sad.” He continued stroking her head.

  “Please let me go,” she whispered.

  “I wish I could, believe me. But it’s out of my hands now. Whether or not you get through this depends on your good friend.”

  Raymond didn’t gamble—he liked to invest his money in more secure options. But he’d taken a chance waiting here for Alessa, especially without his hired muscle here to help him should anything go wrong. So far, it had paid off with her best friend. It gave him the bargaining chip he felt he needed. Now, he just needed for Alessa and her meddlesome doctor to rush in and save the day. Then, he could finally end this and go on to live the life he was meant to live.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Amanda pulled up in front of the cement gray building that Alessa recognized as her own. It was just past a business district and most of the apartments resembled this one. With small flowerbeds lining the stairs, it was clear the yard and building were tended to fairly well.

  “I moved here almost a year ago,” Alessa said, more to herself. She placed her palm on the passenger window and stared up at the three-story building. “I live on the third floor.” She pointed. Her heart beat fast in her chest, but she couldn’t see why. It was like looking through the window; she felt on the outside of her own life-still.

  “Do you want to go up?” Amanda asked, gentling her already silk-soft voice.

  Alessa tried to breathe through her nose and steady her pulse. “I do.” Yet she made no effort to move. “I worked at a diner around the corner. I think we passed it. I met Raymond there.”

  “Honey, are you all right?”

  She couldn’t stop the tears from filling her eyes so she just swiped at them before they fell. She undid her seatbelt and turned to face Amanda. “No. He took everything from me and tried to take my life, too. I just want this to be over.” Her voice was much stronger than she felt.

  Amanda undid her seatbelt as well then put a hand on Alessa’s. “It will be. Let’s go in, okay?”

  Alessa wanted to hug the woman for being so supportive. But she didn’t want to break down in tears so she steadied her breathing and got out of the car. She walked across the cracking sidewalk and was at the door before she realized she didn’t have a key. She looked at the list of names. Fraser, Wenton, Lee, Harper, Matthews. She blinked, trying to come up with a plan.

  “You don’t have your key,” Amanda said.

  Alessa shook her head. Amanda, without warning, pressed the call button for Fraser.

  “What are you—”

  “Hello?” crackled a man who sounded like he’d been caught gurgling.

  “Hi, Mr. Wenton. I’m here for your massage,” Amanda called out in a syrupy voice.

  Alessa raised her eyebrows and stared at Josh’s sister.

  “My wha? I didn’t . . . I’m not Wenton,” he crowed.

  “Oh. This table is awfully heavy. Can you get him for me?” Amanda whined in a voice that was far from her own.

  “Lady, it don’t work like that! Buzz his apartment!”

  “I’ll have to put everything down and I just don’t . . .” Amanda trailed off and waited.

  Alessa held her breath.

  “Gosh darn lazy—” the man said a stream of words that were interrupted by the buzzer letting the girls in.

  Once the door shut behind them, Alessa looked at Amanda in awe. Amanda simply shrugged her shoulders. “High school drama.” She smiled.

  “Well played,” Alessa said, her grin feeling authentic for the first time in a while. Alessa led the way from the sparse, carpeted lobby up the aging staircase. She knew people here. She had friends. Mr. Wenton was actually a very sweet old man. Mr. Fraser, not so much. Lizzy-Beth lived on the second floor with her two little boys and often brought Alessa muffins. When they reached the third floor, Alessa stared down the hallway. They stood at the top of the steps and uncertainty crawled into her veins. There were six apartments on each floor. Alessa’s was at the far end of the hall on the right. A flash of pain struck her behind her right eye. She put her hand to it, adding pressure.

  “You okay?” Amanda asked immediately.

  “I—I was going to see a journalist from the local paper. We’d agreed to meet. I’d been emailing him. I was on my way to the diner when I left here. I never made it.”

  Amanda put her arm around Alessa’s shoulders and the physical reminder that she wasn’t alone was enough to bolster her courage. They walked down the hallway to stand in front of the standard brown door with a gold ringed peephole in the center.

  “You know how to break in?” Amanda said in a tone Alessa recognized as playful.

  “My skills don’t extend to that area.” Alessa reached out tentatively. The door knob turned with her hand and when she gave a small push, it opened. Had she left it unlocked? She remembered being in a hurry to leave, but not locking the door. Her heart picked up its pace again. This was home. Or, what used to be home.

  Amanda smiled at her. Together they entered and closed the door. A short, rectangular table sat in the tiny hallway, and Alessa’s heart pinched when she looked at the oddly shaped ceramic bowl that sat on top. Her mother made it when she’d taken up pottery. It was a birthday gift. The white, carpeted hallway was short with a doorway to the right that she knew to be the laundry room. To the left, there was an archway leading to a living room and kitchen combination. Her bedroom and bathroom were off of that.

  As they took their first step forward, they both heard the strange click. And then Alessa’s heart plummeted as her hand
grasped Amanda’s. Amanda screamed and took a step back, gripping Alessa’s hand tightly.

  “Took you long enough. And look at that, you brought a friend. It’ll be like a party,” Raymond Scotts said.

  His tone was calm and even, as it always was. He had a deeply masculine voice that would have drawn a crowd of listeners if he were a radio announcer. Instead, it charmed men and women when it spouted lies of how he would make a difference, make their small city a better place to live. He never bothered to clarify just how he would do that to his adoring public.

  Sweat trickled down Alessa’s spine as regret pooled in her belly. She never should have brought Amanda here. Raymond held the black gun as though it were a cigar or cigarette or, worse, an appendage. He was comfortable with it, as comfortable as he was with his fists.

  “Come on in, darlin’. Introduce me to your friend. It feels like we’ve been waiting forever for you.” Raymond leaned a wide shoulder against the wall. His dress shirt was slightly unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled, and it was wrinkled.

  “We?” Alessa asked shakily.

  “Oh,” he pushed off the wall and walked toward them, “you had a visitor while you were gone. I took the liberty of entertaining your guest.”

  Both women instinctively took a step back. Amanda hit the door, and Alessa’s back ran into Amanda. Raymond continued to advance while Alessa racked her brain trying to figure out who he was talking about. Her heart sank.

  “Josh?” she said, barely above a whisper.

  Raymond’s cruel laugh bounced off the faded white walls. “No. Your knight in a white lab coat hasn’t shown himself.” He stopped in front of them and gazed at Alessa, taking her in from head to foot. “I must say, you’ve healed nicely.” He ran a hand along her cheek, and she jumped back with the touch.

  Amanda’s hand dug into her ribs.

  “Please,” Alessa whispered, her gaze on the gun. She didn’t even know what she was begging for.