by Nadia Lee
“I’m not your fucking errand boy!” Andy snarls, but she keeps on babbling.
“It hurts, and I want it to stop and I don’t want to die. Andy, let’s…let’s go back to the beach. We can redo the scene…just the way you want…”
Jesus. I know she’s trying to distract him, but…
“Shut up! Didn’t you hear me say it’s too late now? It’s all your fault for fighting back.” He pulls the hand holding the knife away and backhands her.
Rage turning my vision red, I grab the laptop and swing it. It connects broadside with Andy’s head and there’s a satisfying whump. His knife clatters on the floor, and I kick it away then hit him again before he can recover. A cut opens above his left eyebrow; blood starts pouring down his face. I hit him one more time with all I’ve got, and the laptop finally breaks. I throw it at his face, then look for my gun, while he breathes hard and shakes his head.
There!
I dash for it while Andy does a sort of crawling scrabble in the opposite direction. I grasp my gun and pivot, ready to put a hole in him.
The moment seems to stretch out to infinity. Andy is holding Liza’s gun. He’s raising it, swinging it around. I send a small prayer of thanks he isn’t aiming at her.
I pull the trigger once, twice, three times, but so does Andy. The gunshots ring out, echoing through the penthouse.
A wet red spot blooms on Andy’s chest, followed by another in his gut. He looks down like he can’t believe it. His knees bend, and he slowly falls to the floor.
My legs turn to noodles as searing pain radiates in my chest. Tremors start to run through me, and I feel something warm trickling down my torso.
I put a hand over my chest. Shit. I’ve been shot.
I fall to my side, my gaze on Liza. She crawls toward me, gasping and crying.
“Don’t leave me, Dominic. Please.”
“I won’t. I promise,” I say, my voice sounding weird, like it’s coming from somewhere far, far away.
She cries harder. Even though my vision’s dimming, I can sense it.
“Don’t cry. I’m never leaving you now. I’m going to marry you.”
“That’s right. You have to live and buy me a huge diamond engagement ring to make up for this.”
I want to tell her I already bought the ring. But I can’t push the words out.
My body slowly grows limp, and eventually the pain fades away. I’m drifting, barely feeling anything when she grabs my hand and yells something. Maybe my name—I can’t process much now. My vision is so dim I can barely see her battered face.
Sorry, Liza. I love you. I love you so much.
I do my best to focus on her face and voice because they’re the only things worth living for, but everything’s growing so indistinct and faint…
Darkness.
Chapter Forty-Two
Elizabeth
I hear voices. See indistinct faces. Disjointed words float around me. I sense somebody holding my hand, but it isn’t Dominic.
Where’s Dominic?
What happened to him?
Panic surges, and I try to get up, but can’t. It’s like my brain is no longer controlling my body.
“Lizochka, I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I should’ve been there.”
I blink. I’m in a hospital, and it’s Tolyan who has his huge bear-paw hands wrapped around mine. His eyes are so bloodshot that I start to feel worried.
“I should’ve known the bastard would come for you when I wasn’t around.”
I try to shake my head, to let him know it wasn’t his fault, but I can’t manage even that simple motion. “Dominic,” I whisper with great effort. It’s so hard to talk. Everything’s harder, even breathing. “Where…”
“He’s alive. The surgery went well.” He mutters something in Russian. “The bullet didn’t hit anything vital.”
It takes me a few minutes to process that. Finally, the meaning of Tolyan’s words register. Thank God. “And…Kristen?”
“She’s fine. Better than you.”
“Lyosha?”
“He’s fine too.” Tolyan looks past me for a moment, his eyes colder than Siberia. “Andy’s lucky Dominic killed him. Otherwise I would have…and it wouldn’t have been a quick death.”
I fade out.
The next time I open my eyes, I feel marginally better. Kristen is sitting by me. She doesn’t look abused—no bruises or cuts on her face. She holds my hand between hers and sniffs.
“It’s all my fault, Liza.”
“How?”
“He… Andy used me to hurt you and Dominic.” Fresh tears spill, and she shrugs her shoulder to wipe them, smearing dark gray eyeliner on her shirt.
“Did he hurt you?”
She shakes his head. “No. He never even had me. The police are still looking into it, but they told me he used a movie prop finger to fool you.”
“Oh.” I look down at her unmarred hands. I start smiling, then laughing, even though it makes my ribs hurt.
Alarm crosses her face. Kristen starts to get up, but I tug at her.
“Don’t. I’m fine,” I say.
“But…” She stares at me like I just lost my mind.
“I’m just…” I blink away the tears. “I’m just happy you have all your fingers.”
* * *
Elizabeth
Over the next three days, my brothers and cousins and their spouses stop by.
Ryder stares like he’s seeing me for the first time. “God, Elizabeth, you look like you had a boxing match with Mike Tyson.”
I laugh. My ribs hurt, but I can’t help it even as I gasp with pain. “That bad, huh?”
“They haven’t given you a mirror yet?”
“No.”
“Probably for the best.” He pats my shoulder while looking slightly ill. “No need to rush things.”
“Ryder, sometimes you’re the worst,” his wife, Paige, chides him. Her belly’s enormous at the moment. She’s going to have her baby very soon.
“The bastard’s lucky he’s dead,” my cousin Dane says coldly, his eyes flat and…outright evil. He’s never been warm and fuzzy, and I’m glad I’ve never given him a reason to be mad at me because… I shudder.
His wife, Sophia, pats his forearm. “I couldn’t believe it when we got the call. We’re glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks.”
My uncle and aunt, Salazar and Ceinlys, walk in together. Salazar is holding a bottle of vodka and a bouquet of flowers. He’s older than my mom, and so much nicer. His eyes are warmer and more human, and he doesn’t have that “I’m better than everyone” air Mom has.
“Dad, vodka? Seriously?” Vanessa says, rolling her eyes.
“Hey, after an encounter like that? She deserves to celebrate,” Salazar says. “I’m so proud of you, Elizabeth. You’re a fighter and a survivor.”
I laugh weakly. “I don’t feel much like a fighter.”
“You’re here and he’s not,” Ceinlys says. She’s a year older than Mom, but looks much younger.
“Enjoy the vodka as soon as the doc clears you for it. I left a bottle with your man, too,” Uncle Salazar says.
The police interview me, and I give them every bit of information I can. Tolyan and Antoine fill me in as they learn more, and I piece things together.
Andy ran Lyosha over earlier on the day of the attack to lure Tolyan away. He found out about Lyosha after watching Tolyan for a while. He then waited until Tolyan left and hacked into Kristen’s Skype account. (Her password is ilovefashion. She needs a better one.)
All he had to do afterward was fool me, waving a movie prop finger and a silver ring that looked similar to the one he saw her wearing a few times before. I didn’t think to look at the detail with care because I was so freaked out, which was exactly what he wanted. The girl in the live feed was an actress he hired. He apparently lied to her, saying that he was filming some kind of educational film about terrorism and sexual violence. She had no idea he was going to use her t
o commit a crime.
Tolyan and Antoine both reassure me Dominic is recovering, and I’ll be able to see him soon. I close my eyes.
Andy is finally dead. The nightmare is over. And I just have to wait until Dominic’s well enough to keep the promise he made.
Except…things don’t turn out that way at all.
Chapter Forty-Three
Elizabeth
–two months later
Something’s definitely wrong. Despite the fact that Dominic and I have both recovered, he hasn’t done a thing to keep the promise he made—that he’d marry me.
If it was just that, maybe I wouldn’t have been biting my nails since we were discharged from the hospital. But he hasn’t touched me, either. Well, he touches me when he brushes by, or when he kisses me goodnight…on my forehead. But he doesn’t touch me sexually, with heat and need and want like he used to. It isn’t like we don’t have privacy…we have plenty. Antoine’s back in his place, Kristen got herself an apartment closer to work, and Tolyan’s away, too.
To fix the problem, I put on some hot new lacy underwear a week ago. Dominic took one look, pinched the bridge of his nose, kissed me goodnight—on the forehead—turned out the light and went to sleep!
I stay up some nights to see if he’s masturbating in the shower again. Nope. He’s staying away from sex—any sex.
I stare at my nude body in the bathroom mirror after a shower. There are still faint yellowish spots from the worst of the bruises, but I don’t have any pain, and I don’t have any scars. I’ve received counseling, and I’m ready to move on with my life—with our lives.
It took ten years to find our way back to each other. I can’t stand the idea of sleeping next to him in the same bed if he doesn’t feel the same way I do anymore.
Time to act, Elizabeth.
Except… What if he says he’s changed his mind about me? What if he’s decided I’m just…not worth it anymore? His sister almost got killed—Andy didn’t get her, but he would have if he’d thought he needed to—and Dominic almost died, too.
My palms are wet, and it’s not because of the steam in the bathroom. I dry my hands, put some lotion on my skin. I have to confront him. Today’s Saturday, and Brian told me Dominic didn’t have to be in the office for anything. The last few weeks, he’s gone in every weekend for urgent projects.
I put on light makeup and my pink power dress. It’s time to figure out what’s wrong.
I make my way to the kitchen, then stop. Dominic’s in a button-down shirt and slacks, the type of outfit he wears to work. My hand flies to my chest, and I can’t help myself but say in a shaky voice, “You’re going to work today too?”
He shoots me an apologetic smile, then looks away, busying himself with pouring another cup of coffee. “A minor project, but we’re behind.” He stirs his coffee, which is weird as hell because he drinks it black.
“Stop lying! That’s such bullshit!” The voice erupting out of me is so shrill and loud that I almost flinch.
But my reaction’s nothing compared to Dominic’s. He jerks his head back, then puts the coffee back on the counter. “Excuse me?” Unlike mine, his voice is soft, measured, calm.
And it heightens the dread until my stomach roils violently. “Brian told me you don’t have anything scheduled today.”
Dominic scowls. “He did, huh?”
“Why are you avoiding me? What’s wrong?” My legs shake. I struggle to breathe, but I manage to cling to control. “Don’t you…” I lick my lips. “Don’t you want me anymore?”
He stiffens. “Liza.”
“You’ve been so distant, Dominic. If this is the end…” I pull my lips in, then gather my courage. This needs to be said—resolved. “Just say it’s over. Don’t make us miserable by pretending like it’s going to be okay one day.” Now that I’ve started, I can’t stop. The rest of the words pour out. “I fell in love with you at first sight when I was seventeen. I’m twenty-eight now. I want to know where we stand. If we’re done, then let me know so I can…move on.”
He pales. Maybe I’ve shocked him. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I’m asking him to break up with me, but if he doesn’t love me anymore, I want him to say it, so we can end things before my love for him turns bitter and ugly. If we part now, we can at least be friends, and I might one day be able to look at him without feeling like I’m dying of heartbreak.
“Liza…I can’t.” He tilts his head upward, blinking a few times. “I could never let you go.”
“Then why are you staying away from me?”
“Because I don’t deserve you! You sacrificed yourself over and over again for me, and you almost got killed because you thought you were saving Kristen.”
“But I didn’t die.” I walk toward him and cradle his cheek, like he used to do to me. “I’m fully recovered. And you got shot trying to save me. No other man’s taken a bullet for me. I love you, and you know what made me hang in there when doctors were giving me painkillers and I was fading in and out?”
He merely stares, his eyes searching—desperate, hopeful, but fearful at the same time.
“Your promise…” I whisper, “that you’re never leaving me, that you’ll marry me.”
He raises his hand and lays it over mine on his cheek tenderly. “When I close my eyes, I see your battered face, the bruises on your body. I feel like if I had been stronger and faster…had more foresight…I would’ve been able to protect you better.”
“No! You did everything in your power. You couldn’t have done more. Our love is stronger than what Andy did to us. You fought for me; I fought for you—we’re invincible together.”
His forehead touches mine, and a shudder goes through me. This closeness and intimacy…I’ve missed it so much.
“The day Andy attacked, I was late because I was picking up a ring. I should’ve come home as soon as Tolyan let me know he had to leave you alone.”
I hold him tightly. “Don’t blame yourself. What Andy did…that’s on him. And I don’t care about any damn ring. All I’ve ever wanted is your heart.”
He slides down until he’s on his knees and wraps his arms around me. “Elizabeth Catherine Lucrezia Pryce-Reed, will you marry me and make the luckiest man in the world?” he asks, his blue eyes bright.
“Yes,” I say, my voice shaky even though I’m trying my best to sound firm. “Oh yes, of course.”
He pulls out a ring from his pocket. “This is the one I bought on my way home. If you don’t like it, I can get another.” He flips the lid open.
Both of my hands fly to my mouth. I’ve never seen a diamond that gorgeous. Or so pink. Or so full of promise. “Oh my God.”
“If it’s too small—”
“No, it’s perfect!” I cup his face and kiss him.
He kisses me back, then whispers against my lips, “No, you’re perfect,” then carries me to bed.
Chapter Forty-Four
Elizabeth
“You’re the most radiant bride, ever! You make bridal magazine photos look drab!”
I smile at Ming Ming’s praise. I asked her to be my maid of honor, and she’s taking her responsibilities very seriously. Some of that probably came from the fact that she got to stay at Ryder’s mansion. Her family worried about security, but decided she could stay in the States long-term if she got to stay in his fortress of a Hollywood home.
Aunt Ceinlys walks in, thoroughly examining every inch of my makeup and dress, then nods with a smile. “Elizabeth, you are perfect. Not a thing to fix.”
“Thank you.” Mom refused to get too involved because she hates the very idea that I’m marrying “so beneath me.” The way she reacted when I told her I’m marrying Dominic, you’d think I’d decided to tie the knot with a penniless ex-con who peddles crack-whores in seedy alleys.
She also declared rather coldly that she wouldn’t attend the wedding. I expected as much, so it didn’t bother me. I’d rather have people who love me and want the best for me and Dominic at our cerem
ony anyway.
But Dad had to announce, “I’m attending with my fiancée, who’ll be happy to fill in the shoes as Elizabeth’s mother. After all, I know my parental duties.”
He didn’t say it out of love for me; of course not. He did it because he hates Mom and wanted to humiliate her. So of course Mom changed her mind, because there’s “no mother more devoted to her children” than she…
“Your parents are here,” Kristen says as she comes in. “But…um…”
I sigh. “You can say it. You wish they’d bash each other’s heads and pass out.”
She snorts, then laughs. “Something like that.”
“They can’t do that. Somebody needs to walk down the aisle with Elizabeth,” Aunt Ceinlys says.
“My dad or uncle would be more than thrilled to do it,” Ming Ming says.
True. So would Tolyan or Uncle Salazar. Even though my parents are being difficult—as usual—I smile anyway. I have amazing people who I can call family.
And soon, I’m going to be the wife of the love of my life.
* * *
Dominic
If I’d had it my way, Liza and I would’ve married months ago. Most likely eloped. But Kristen told me I was being selfish and insensitive. “All women dream of their perfect wedding. It’s not like Liza’s going to do this more than once. Give her the wedding she deserves.”
She’s right. I have no intention of letting Liza marry more than once. We’re going to do it once and do it right. And I’m going to give her the greatest wedding in the world.
After all, it only took five months. In the grand scheme of things, that’s nothing. Her mom even helped with the planning—mostly via criticism—but only because Liza told her it was that or her Aunt Ceinlys was going to do it. Apparently Geraldine has a thing against Ceinlys. I like Ceinlys, of course, precisely because she’s a nice woman and because Geraldine hates her. Geraldine still pisses me off—that snotty attitude and tone of voice. I’m tempted to get a pet roach just to repel that horrible bitch.
“Chill, man. You look like you’re getting cold feet,” Antoine says, looking very best-mannish in a tux.