by Violet Howe
He stood at the oven, wearing nothing but my yellow and blue striped apron as he fried bacon and scrambled eggs.
Alarmed, I looked back and forth between them, but neither of them seemed the least bit concerned to both be in my kitchen at the same time, and neither seemed to care that Victor was practically nude.
“I’m making breakfast for you,” Victor said, his smile widening.
Their physical similarities had never dawned on me, but seeing them together that way, they were almost exactly the same height, and their hair and eyes were nearly identical shades of brown, though as I looked closer, I could see Seth’s irises were a tad bit lighter. They were both lean, but Seth’s rigorous training had given his upper body more bulk.
“Sorry it took me so long,” Seth said as he reached to brush his fingers across my brow and then twisted a lock of my hair. “Mom was sick, and Zara needed me. But I’m here now, and I always will be.”
“Danielle?” Victor’s smile faded as he turned toward Seth, and the two men seemed to notice each other for the first time.
My heart felt like it was being torn into pieces, and I looked from Victor to Seth and back again. Choosing between them would be impossible, and I shook my head, unable to even consider letting either of them go.
Seth was home. He was stability and comfort. Security and steadfastness. He was gentle and kind, teasing and charming, and seeing him in my kitchen made the big empty spot in my chest feel whole again.
Victor was passion. He was excitement and forbidden pleasure. Being with him meant throwing caution to the wind and acting on impulse. He was fiery and exciting, mysterious and unknown, and I couldn’t get enough. Even as I’d walked down the hallway toward the kitchen moments earlier, my entire body had quivered with desire in anticipation of his mouth on mine and his hands on my skin, which was still sensitive from the ecstasy his touch had rendered the night before.
But as I looked back at Seth, it was though memories that had been veiled were revealed. We’d shared passion, too. We’d had that fiery, uncontrollable desire. Once upon a time, we’d been unable to keep our hands from each other, exploring and learning the meaning of pleasure together unabashed and curious, eager and unbridled, yet tender and loving. How could I have forgotten the chemistry between Seth and me?
Maybe it wasn’t the explosive, lightning-hot heat I shared with Victor, but it was no less powerful.
Seth, I trusted. Seth, I knew. Seth knew me too, in ways Victor never would.
Suddenly, the old flame that had been hiding inside my chest roared from a flicker to a full-blown fire, and as though he sensed the scale sliding toward Seth, Victor’s expression changed.
His eyes hardened, and his lips curled into a snarl. He squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, and from deep within me, a trembling began. Not from desire this time, but from fear.
Seth immediately stepped forward, moving me behind him.
The sunny picture in my mind began to glitch, and the tone of the dream shifted as it morphed into something different altogether.
Instead of my kitchen, the three of us stood in a room with no doors and no windows. Seth still shielded me, but Victor held a gun instead of a spatula, and he wore a dark suit in place of my whimsical apron.
I shuddered at the menacing glint in Victor’s eyes as he smiled.
“Danielle, come with me.”
“No,” Seth growled.
I clung to Seth’s arm as he stepped forward, and I screamed as Victor raised the gun and pulled the trigger.
The blast woke me, and I jerked up to sitting and scrambled backwards, still screaming as I toppled off the bed and then struggled to get to my feet.
The giant burst through the door within seconds, his gun drawn and his eyes searching the room for the source of my distress.
“Are you all right? You yelled.”
“Yeah.” I looked around the room in confusion, my mind dazed as I tried to decipher what was real and what was not. “I must have fallen asleep. I guess I was dreaming.”
“Okay.” He slid his gun back into its holster. “That’s a relief. I thought someone got past us somehow. The boss just arrived. He’s taking care of a small matter, but I’m sure he’ll be up shortly.”
He backed out and closed the door, and I did another frantic search of the room, this time looking for anything I could use as a weapon. I picked up the crystal ice bucket, and though it was heavy and could do some damage, it was also unwieldy. I wrapped my hand around the neck of the whiskey bottle instead, holding it behind my leg in hopes of the advantage of surprise.
In desperation, I moved behind the small table, my back against the wall in my attempt to get as far from the door as possible as I waited for my fate to unfold.
My eyes remained glued to the door, and it wasn’t until it opened that I realized I was holding my breath.
Fourteen
A loud gasp escaped my lips as Victor entered the room, his eyes filled with concern as he crossed the floor to where I stood, stunned and immobile.
“God, Danielle, I’ve just heard what happened to you. Are you all right?” He immediately grabbed my arms to look at the bandages on my wrists, taking the whiskey bottle from me to set it back on the table. Then, he cupped my chin in his hand as he turned my head slightly left and right, examining my face. “How badly did they hurt you? You must have been terrified. George said you’d had a bad dream just now, and it’s no surprise after what you’ve been through.”
My mind moved slowly, still hazy with sleep and crippled by exhaustion and too much shock for one evening.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, uncertain if he was my hero or my villain in that moment.
He moved to wrap his arms around me, and at first, I let him, desperate for comfort and security, but then I remembered who was offering it, and I pulled out of his reach to repeat my question.
“What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean?” He squinted and cocked his head to the side as if he were confused. “I’m here to meet you, like we planned.”
The pieces began to fall into place.
“You? They meant you?” My mouth dropped open, and my eyes widened. “What the hell? You’re the boss here? I was already on my way to you, and you had me kidnapped?”
“I did nothing of the sort. I sent you in the care of Ned and Franco to be brought here safely. You left their care, did you not?”
“Yes, but then I was taken by men who brought me here. To you! Why did you have me kidnapped?”
“I think kidnapped is a strong term.”
“I was grabbed and forcefully carried against my will, placed in a chokehold, shoved in a vehicle with my hands tied behind my back, and then brought to this house without my having any choice. I’d say kidnapped is pretty damned accurate.”
He clasped his hands behind his back, drawing in a slow breath. “That never should have happened. But you left the vehicle I placed you in, did you not? You insisted that Ned not follow you inside, even though he was there to ensure your safety. Ned saw Emmett’s car parked on the side, so he called Emmett inside the store and asked him to keep an eye on you. Now, I do not condone Emmett’s use of force or restraint, and I can assure you he’s been reprimanded for it. He seemed to think you were attempting to call law enforcement, and to protect me and my interests, he made impulsive decisions.”
“He kidnapped me to bring me to you. He did this for you.” I needed to state it again to let my mind wrap around it.
“The way in which he performed was certainly not at my instruction. I am positive if you were to ask him now, he would tell you it was a mistake, and he’s quite remorseful.”
The ramifications of that statement hit me, and I stumbled a few steps farther away from him.
“Oh, so, what does that mean? Did you have him beat up? Did you break his kneecaps or smash his hand with a hammer or something?”
I braced for his answer, needing to know but not wanting to
know.
Victor’s lips formed a tight, thin line, and his eyes lost their tenderness. “I’d rather not discuss the particulars. I will not tolerate anyone treating you with disrespect or laying a hand on you. That is a punishable offense, and he understands that now. Had he been a part of my team, he would have already known that, but Emmett doesn’t work for me. He works for the owners of this house, Carmine and Letitia, who were dear friends of my late mother. Why were you trying to call the police?”
My thoughts had begun to clear, and as anger replaced fear and confusion, I stood straighter and crossed my arms.
“Tell me something. This man—this Emmett—he said he’s been watching me for months. Was that for them…or for you?”
With one eyebrow cocked, Victor tilted his head and watched me, perhaps perceiving the shift in my tone.
“I needed to know you were safe.” He rubbed his fingers across his chin, smoothing his goatee. “I couldn’t be sure who had betrayed me from within my own team, so I reached out for help from a different angle. Given their loyalty to my mother and their proximity to your location in Cedar Creek, this family seemed the ideal answer for your protection.”
“My protection? You had a total stranger you didn’t even know come into my house without my knowledge. He followed me. He watched me. He toyed with me. This is your idea of protecting me?”
He frowned, and his eyes narrowed as the muscle in his jaw flexed. “Emmett was out of line. I can assure you that was never my intention. You’ve been under surveilled protection since the day we met, something you might not have known since your guards were instructed to handle that task with no obtrusion or interference into your daily life. However, after my arrest and your move to Florida, my options became limited, and as I mentioned before, I had to rely on others to manage personnel decisions. The guard originally assigned to you in Cedar Creek accompanied Carmine and Letitia when they left recently for an extensive trip in Europe. Emmett was assigned as a replacement, and I regret to learn that he may not have been a wise choice.”
“The guy is a psychopath! He stole my nightgown, for Christ’s sake, and God only knows what else he may have done in my house. I’m surprised I wasn’t assaulted.” I looked down and held up my hands, putting my bandaged wrists in front of his face. “Oh, wait. What am I saying? I was assaulted!”
Victor’s eyes darkened, and he spoke through a clenched jaw. “And for that, he has paid a price. But given what you’re telling me now, perhaps the retribution he’s received isn’t enough.”
His tone sent shivers down my spine, and I was reminded how surreal my life had become. Whereas in the past, the two of us might have been discussing whether DiCaprio’s character was still dreaming at the end of Inception or which of the Beatles was the most talented, I suspected that now if I didn’t take care with my words, I might be sentencing a man to his death for stepping across a line that was already beyond normal boundaries.
I stared at Victor, searching his face for the familiar. Had he always looked this menacing? Had his voice always held such a calculating edge? Perhaps I’d been blind to it all and I’d glossed over what I didn’t want to see. Were my memories even accurate?
The man I’d thought I loved spoke of unity, compassion, environmental conservation, and an appreciation of the arts. The man who stood before me looked much like him but spoke so casually of punishment, surveillance, and retribution that it seemed impossible the two were the same.
“So much for the changed man, eh?” I said, my voice quiet in the deafening stillness of the room. “Are we not even going to pretend anymore? You’re just fully embracing your true identity now and hoping I’ll do the same?”
His anger seemed to dissipate, and his expression softened into something akin to apologetic.
“Danielle, please—”
“Tell me the truth for once. There never was a deal with the feds, was there? They didn’t pardon you and ten of your closest men and buy you all a one-way ticket out of the country. That was all a lie.”
He rubbed his hand across his face and gazed toward the ceiling. Then he lifted the lid off the crystal ice bucket and dropped a couple of cubes into each of the two glasses that sat on the table. After pouring whiskey in them both, he offered me one, shrugging when I refused. Then he sat in the chair by the window, and after a long sip of his drink, he lay his head back against the chair and stared at me through half-closed eyes.
I’d never seen him look so exhausted—his shoulders drooping, his mouth drawn, and his eyes uncharacteristically dull.
“I never lied to you in that regard,” he said, his voice thick, slow, and tired. “I promise you that a deal was made. Federal officers were involved and agreed to the terms.” He took another sip of whiskey and waved the glass toward me. “Now, it might not fit the profile of the traditional witness protection that you think you’re familiar with, and it certainly won’t be publicly recorded with the courts, but I didn’t lie. I was released from federal custody and given passage out of the country. I was also given leeway to choose my traveling companions.”
“So, a crooked deal. A back door deal.” I nodded with understanding, surprised by the inexplicable disappointment I felt. Why should it matter to me whether or not he was telling the truth or whether his deal was legitimate? It wasn’t like we could ever go back after all that had been revealed. Hell, it wasn’t like we had anything of substance to go back to.
But still, I suppose a tiny part of me had hoped he wasn’t lying. I’d hoped that he was redeemable, and that fact would in some way redeem me and the choices I’d made. “What about you turning? You said you gave evidence on powerful people, and they were pissed about it. Was that all creative truth as well?”
He shrugged again. “I gave them things. I gave them people. I gave them enough to get what I wanted without putting too much of a target on my head. Or yours.”
“And yet, you led me to believe my life was in imminent danger. You said on the phone tonight that my house was being watched. That there were people in Cedar Creek bent on doing me harm. But the man I thought was following me was your guy, or there on your behalf anyway. Was there ever anyone else? Or was that all a lie to get me to come to you?”
He drained the whiskey glass and set it on the table, and then with a loud sigh, he cracked his knuckles, which he knew I hated. “The world doesn’t work the way you’d like to believe, my love. You don’t always see the people watching you, and you don’t always know who is a threat and who means you harm. I didn’t lie, but let me ask you a question. If I had simply called and told you I’d been released and was about to leave the country, would you have come to me?”
“No. Definitely not.”
He frowned and twisted his lips together with a slight nod.
“I suppose I expected that. And yet, I am certain we are destined to be together.” A faint smile played at his lips, and the tenderness returned to his eyes. “So certain that I was willing to delay my own escape and jeopardize my own freedom and that of my men to come for you, and I’m delaying it still. We should have already been in the air. We’ve wasted crucial time finding you, and now we waste more time ensuring that the officers you’ve involved aren’t on our trail. Every minute we delay increases our risk.”
“Am I supposed to feel bad about that? I never asked you to make that sacrifice, and given the choice—which I was not—I would have told you not to waste your time.”
Leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees, he smiled broadly, and a flicker of memory flitted through my mind. Another time, another place, that same grin, and much different emotions attached to it.
“Do you remember the first day we met?” he asked. “We talked the evening away through the night and into the early hours of the morning. I’d never in my life conversed with someone that much for that long. God, it was like I wanted the clock to stop. I didn’t want the sun to rise and bring the day. I never imagined I would find another soul I felt so connected
to. Whatever topic arose—from melting ice caps to philosophy to the government’s errant strides in foreign policy to the best way to eat an ice cream cone—we were in step and in sync.”
Despite my resolve and the barricade I’d built inside me, a pang of longing and loss gripped my heart.
I did remember that day, that night. How could I not? It was as though I’d been struck by lightning the first moment I laid eyes on him, and that current had continued surging through me the more we talked during that first encounter, the spark growing so powerful it was all I could do to maintain control. We’d stayed up until four in the morning, and I’d counted down the hours at work the next day until I could see him again. He’d been waiting at my front door when I arrived home that next evening, and we tore at each other’s clothes and explored a physical connection even more explosive than our mental one. My fate had been sealed in that joining, and despite only knowing each other twenty-four hours at that point, we both knew we couldn’t be apart. He stayed that night and never left.
Well, until they dragged him away in handcuffs.
I sat on the foot of the bed and gripped the post, trying to hold onto reality and not be sucked into the memories of something that was never as it seemed. I’d mourned the loss of that man. I’d grieved his absence as though he’d died, because in so many ways, he had. Except here he was, coming to kneel on one knee in front of me—all at once the same man, and yet not the same at all.
Victor took my hands in his and looked up at me, his eyes pleading once more. “I knew when I awoke that first morning with you in my arms that my life had been changed. I knew then that I would do whatever it took to be worthy of you and to spend my life with you. I went to my uncle that day and told him I wanted out. I told him I would agree to whatever conditions he required if he would allow me to go and pursue a life of my own.”
“What did he say?” I asked, even though the answer was obvious.
“He refused, of course,” Victor said with a grimace, “but I was undeterred. You had awakened something in me that couldn’t be ignored. I began to divest myself of any interests in the family business. I began to sever ties, and as you can imagine now knowing what you do, my actions were met with swift retribution, first in the form of lectures, then in the form of action.”