‘I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…’ The whisper was gravelly, low and tears started to pour down her cheeks. Zoe’s eyes filled with tears but she tried to smile, taking Isa’s hand and squeezing it.
‘You have nothing to apologize for, darling. Nothing. You didn’t do anything to cause this.’
‘Zoe’s right. It’s not your fault.’
Isa felt a rush of emotion at the sound of Sam’s voice. He was standing in the doorway of her room, his face drawn, gray with sorrow and worry, his big frame slumped. Isa wanted nothing more than to sink into his arms, but she found herself unable to meet his gaze. She looked back at Zoe, searching her eyes, seeking any sign of blame, of resentment. All she could see was heartbreak and knew it was a reflection of her own eyes.
Seb. She kept replaying the moment he was shot in her head, the way his eyes had registered shock as the bullet tore into his skull, the way his body had crumpled to the floor, the finality of that last sigh. She closed her eyes wanting to turn back time, get the killer to let Seb go, kill her instead. Now she knew her tormenter would do anything, kill anyone; she couldn’t risk him going after Zoe, going after Cal or Sandy… hurting Sam. She couldn’t help the image of Sam, a bullet ripping into his beautiful head, his blood spraying over her and now she realized just what he had been going through all these weeks, months. The torment of losing her, the woman he loved.
Zoe kissed her cheek then stood up, making room for Sam to sit on the bed beside his wife. Zoe squeezed Sam’s arm and left them alone.
Sam stroked her cheek, but she still couldn’t look into his eyes. He pressed his cool lips to her hot forehead. It felt so good, and she sighed.
‘I keep promising that I’ll never let him hurt you – and I keep breaking that promise.’
She closed her eyes, leaning her cheek against the palm of his hand. ‘It’s not your fault.’
She heard his shaky intake of breath. ‘It’s not yours either.’
‘God, Sam. I want to kill him with my bare hands. I want him to come after me, so I get the chance to pay him back for what he’s done to Seb, to Zoe, to us. I know how your father must have felt and I don’t blame him one little bit.’
The anger in her voice shocked her, and she broke off, trembling, fresh tears flooding down her face. Sam took her face in his hands, pressed his lips to hers.
After a moment, he leaned his forehead against hers.
‘Look at me, Isabel…’
A sob escaped from her. ‘I can’t.’
She could feel his tears now as his hands tightened around her face. ‘Please….’
She tried but then pulled away, turning onto her side away from him. ‘I can’t, Sam, not yet. Because if I look at you, I feel like I’ll break.’
He didn’t say anything else, but she felt him shift, lay down on the bed behind her, spooning her in a gesture so understanding, so loving it tore her apart. He slipped his arm around her waist, and she gripped his hand to her chest. She felt his lips against the back of her neck.
‘I love you,’ she whispered and felt him press his body harder into her shape. She heard a nurse come into the room and chuckle quietly.
‘This is okay, right?’ Sam’s voice was steady, low. The nurse checked Isa’s vitals.
‘As long as you don’t jostle her shoulder too much. Are you in pain, honey?’ She bent her head to look at Isa, who tried to smile but nodded.
‘I’ll get you a sedative. Do you want some morphine?’
Isa tightened her grip on Sam’s hand. ‘I have the only pain relief I need.’ She was gratified to hear Sam’s relieved sigh. The nurse handed her a pill, and she swallowed it gratefully. The nurse turned down the lights.
‘Get some rest, both of you. You need any extra pain relief, Izzy; you let me know.’
A few minutes later, she was on the edge of sleep when the realization came to her, and her eyes flew open in shock.
‘Sam… Sam…’
‘What is it, sweetheart?’ His voice was thick with sleep, such a comforting sound and finally she was able to look him in the eye. His handsome face was still drawn, and his green eyes bore into hers, heavy with worry.
‘I need to talk to Detective Halsey. Now.’
‘He called me Isa.’
They all looked at her askance. ‘Honey…’ Sam shook his head, his eyes confused.
She sighed. ‘No, no, listen. It didn’t click until the nurse called me Izzy but…most people would shorten Isabel to Izzy. No-one who wasn’t close to me would assume my nickname was Isa. Whoever he is, has always, always called me Isa.’ She blinked, suddenly paling and Sam’s heart nearly broke at the desolation on her lovely face. ‘It’s someone we know.’
She glanced at Zoe then, who trying to smile, took her hand. Isa squeezed it.
‘Zoe. I’ve been so blind. I was so sure he couldn’t do anything like this.’
Halsey looked at Sam, who sighed. ‘Karl.’
Isa nodded. ‘It must be.’
Halsey cleared his throat. ‘We know Seb met with him a couple of weeks ago, Cal said…’
‘Cal? Cal knew about it?’
Halsey gave a wry smile. ‘Apparently, your brother and Seb fancied themselves as detectives. Seb met with Dudek to try and figure out if he knew anything, or if he was acting strangely. Apparently, according to Cal, he was fine but clearly…’ He trailed off, glancing out of the office at his officers. ‘Wait here.’
He disappeared out of the door. Sam sat down next to Isa and kissed her cheek. ‘We’re getting somewhere at last.’
Tears started to drop down Isa’s face, but she pulled away from both of their comforting arms. ‘If I hadn’t been so sure it wasn’t Karl, Seb would be alive.’
‘You don’t know that.’
But Sam saw the devastation in her eyes and knew she would not be told otherwise.
A few days later, Halsey came to the hospital to update them.
‘Dudek’s been reported missing. And yeah, the dates tally with Seb’s murder and your shooting.’
Sam made a disgusted sound, and Isa tangled her fingers in his. Weirdly, since realizing Karl’s guilt, she had felt relieved. Not knowing who wanted to kill her was a hundred times worse – now she could put a face to the horror.
Bastard. Just put me in a room with him and a baseball bat, she thought grimly.
Halsey took in her expression. ‘Yeah, I’m getting to know that face, Isa. Don’t think you can handle this on your own. This isn’t some great feminist ‘I Will Survive’ crap. This is your life.’
Sam grunted his agreement, and Isa tried not to smile. ‘So, what can we do while he’s still out there?’
‘You can let Sam hire the best protection. You cannot object when he wants to take you away from the city. You have to take this seriously.’
Isa was silent for a moment, and when she spoke, her voice shook. ‘Detective, I watched my brother being murdered in front of me, watched him draw his last breath. I take this seriously.’
‘At last.’ Sam’s voice had a hard edge, and she swallowed, looking up at him.
‘I’m sor…’ she started but, smiling, he shook his head.
‘No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.’
‘It’s true, though.’ She took his hand and squeezed it. She looked back at the detective, and the thought came to her that he had become like a friend to them. She smiled gently at him. ‘No bullshit, I’ll do anything you want but please, don’t keep me out of the loop on this. I need to know what’s happening.’
Later, Sam lay with her as the evening turned to night. For a long time, they simply gazed at each other, wanting to drink the other in. Sam kissed her, his lips moving with hers slowly, tenderly. Isa sighed.
‘Sam…I just don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know why this is happening, why he wants to kill me so badly. And why, why, kill Seb when he had me there? He should have just kil – ‘
‘Don’t say it. Please. Just don’t.’ Sam closed his eyes aga
inst the searing pain her words brought.
‘I told him to do it. I begged him to kill me and let Seb go. He liked the power; he wanted me cowed and begging and he enjoyed shooting Seb. God…’
Sam’s arms tightened around her. ‘Stop it. You’re making yourself crazy. This is not your fault; this is the work of a madman. It’s Dudek’s fault.’
Isa buried her face in his chest but stayed silent. After a few minutes, she pulled away and looked up at him. ‘What if we go public? The more we try to keep this all quiet, the more he gets to move around in relative anonymity. We could go to that art critic guy, the one who defended me, tell him the true story of why someone torched my exhibit.’
Sam looked doubtful. ‘Paul Carter? I don’t know – he’s not a feature writer but…’
‘I don’t want to come across as a victim.’ Isa’s voice was fierce. ‘I want to tell my story my way and send a message to Karl or whomever this is; I’m nobody’s victim.’
Sam’s jaw clenched. ‘You still doubt it’s Karl?’
Isa’s shoulders slumped. ‘I guess not. I just don’t want to believe it’s him.’
Sam nodded. ‘Let’s talk to Halsey, see what he thinks.’
To Sam’s surprise, Halsey was enthusiastic about the idea – although not as much as Paul Carter was. Seb’s murder was already page one news of the Seattle press and had even made the national press, and Carter was eager to get an exclusive. Isa was released from hospital and Sam arranged the meeting with Carter for the following week.
Isa sat down on the bed in the apartment Sam had rented. It was, of course, luxurious and stunning but she was too shell-shocked still to appreciate it. She sat down on the huge bed in the bedroom while Sam unpacked her stuff. She grabbed his hand as he passed.
‘Thank you, baby, for everything. For dealing with everything. For looking after me, and Zoe.’
Sam had arranged for Zoe to go stay with her sister in Georgia and Isa was grateful that her mother would be safe and with people she loved. Zoe had objected, of course, but between them, Sam and Isa had convinced her it was the best.
‘You call me every day, girl,’ she’d said to Isa, her arms wrapped so tightly around her Isa had trouble breathing.
The relief that Zoe would be safe helped Isa immeasurably, and now she just felt drained. Her shoulder ached, but the wound was healing nicely.
Sam sat down next to her, sweeping her hair away from her face and kissed her forehead. ‘You’re welcome. What do you want to do this evening? Sleep?’
She shook her head. ‘I want to eat…’
Sam grinned. ‘Of course, already taken care of. Room service will be here in a few minutes.’
She leaned against him, smiling. ‘You know how to treat a girl good, Mr. Levy.’
He stroked her face tenderly. ‘I wish there were something I could do help you feel better.’
Isa closed her eyes. ‘I’ll feel a lot better when we’ve done this interview.’
Sam sighed. ‘I’m still not sold on it. What if this is what Dudek wants? To be a superstar?’
Isa looked up at him. ‘Do you really think that?’
‘I don’t know what to think.’
‘All I know, Sam, is we can’t keep doing what we’re doing, cowering behind bodyguards, waiting for the police to find Karl – if it’s even Karl they should be looking for.’
Sam hissed, running a hand through his dark hair. ‘Fuck, this is driving me insane.’
‘You know what frightens me more? The thought that whoever it is isn’t someone we know. That he’s just picked up on our lives, the private details – like calling me Isa instead of Izzy - by just being close, flying under the radar.’
Sam hugged her. ‘The monster under the bed?’
Isa chuckled softly. ‘Just like that.’ She gave a wide yawn. ‘Sorry, that one caught me by surprise.’
There was a knock at the door, and Sam got up to answer it. ‘We’ll eat…,’ he looked back over his shoulder at her, ‘...then you’re going to sleep.’
Later, while Isa slept deeply, Sam stood at the window of the hotel and looked out onto the rain-slicked streets of Seattle. He barely registered the weather, though; his mind was churning, going over everything he could do to protect his love, his family.
He had already applied for a court order against Karl Dudek, but even he knew that it would be no protection if Dudek was determined. Sam’s security team, the four or five people who had been with him, even with his father some of them, had all told him they’d be okay with being thoroughly vetted by the FBI to prove themselves. He had hated to ask, but they told him not to worry.
‘All of us agree,’ his security chief, Jock, told him earnestly, ‘whatever you need to feel protected, whatever Mrs. Levy needs to feel safe.’
He’d told Jock to hire more people, extending the protection to Zoe and Louisa and anyone who came into contact with Isa or himself. Even Sandy, Isa’s old boss, had called him and offered his help. Sam had thanked him then asked if Sandy had felt unsafe and if he wanted protection. Sandy had politely turned him down. ‘It’s not as if I see Isa anymore,’ he said somewhat sadly, and Sam had immediately felt guilty.
‘You are always welcome here, Sandy, anytime, you know that. I know Isa misses you too.’
Sam looked over at the bed, at his beloved wife. She was laying on her stomach, her face resting on the pillow, dark hair was strewn about her, the sheet pushed down to her waist, the white dressing on her shoulder a vivid reminder.
Why would anyone want to hurt you, lovely one? Sam shook his head. No-one would ever get the chance again; he thought now, not ever again.
His thoughts shifted to Cal. Ever since Seb’s murder, he’d had a dread inside him that the killer would do the same to his younger brother too and the thought was crippling him. The haunted look in Isa’s eyes knew came from seeing Seb die and Sam was at a loss about how to erase that pain. He didn’t think he ever would.
He couldn’t help but feel that the interview with Paul Carter was a mistake. Like other rich men, he knew the key to security was a low profile, and this would only heighten it. Still, Isa was set on it, and he didn’t want to take away her choice, her opinion, her ways to get through all of this. Afterward, though, Sam would insist they go away again, out of the public eye, somewhere new. He had already put feelers out, discreetly, about some places – Italy, a place on one of the Lakes – not Garda, too conspicuous with Clooney already there – but other places. Some bolt holes that no-one would expect an uber-rich couple to go – a small gite in rural France; a ski-lodge in Austria; a small family home in the Auckland suburbs in New Zealand. Try and find us then, asshole. The one thing they had as an advantage was Sam’s vast wealth and he was damned if he wouldn’t spend every penny keeping his family safe.
A friend of his from the art world, Jakob Mallory, had offered him the use of a small apartment in Venice and Sam thought now it would be the perfect start to their life of…
Running away. God, damn it, he hated to think of it like that, but that’s what it was. Being hounded out of their home. He loved Seattle with all of his heart, loved the entire West Coast as he knew Isa did. You can’t run forever. No, we won’t. We’ll fight this, we will, and we will win. Whoever it is. Whatever they want.
Whatever it takes…
Part #4 Breathe Me
A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance
By Michelle Love
Isa felt excited – hell, she felt alive – for the first time in weeks as the plane circled around the airport in Venice. It was a gloriously sunny, if cold, and as she and Sam were taken into the city on a small speedboat, she leaned against the solid frame of her husband and felt her body relax. Surely, here, she was entitled to not feel hunted or stalked. Sam’s friend had loaned them a small apartment, had warned them it was basic but cozy and that was exactly what she needed right now. No over-the-top luxury, no hulking bodyguards watching her every moment. Trying not to think about Seb every w
aking minute would be wonderful; she felt guilty even thinking like that but the pain was so searing, the image of his murder so vivid in her mind she just wanted a break, a few days of blessed relief.
Sam was quiet, had been absorbed with something the whole flight, but his arms around her were comforting, and she looked up at him now as they neared their mooring.
‘Hey,’ he smiled down at her, ‘…we’re almost there. I hope Jakob was exaggerating about how basic it was; I’m starving.’
Isa laughed. ‘I’m sure Venice has plenty of culinary options – would I have agreed to come if it didn’t?’
Sam grinned. ‘Hell, no. Here we are.’ The boat slowed and pulled up beside a small bridge and Sam helped her out of the boat. Grabbing their cases, he led her into a small building and up a dusty, dimly lit flight of wooden stairs. Isa was already half in love when he opened the door to the apartment.
‘God, it’s so gorgeous,’ she breathed, taking in the small living room, exposed brickwork, with a tiny kitchenette off to the side. Two doors on the opposite wall led to a small bedroom and bathroom. Isa sighed happily. ‘This is perfect.’
Sam looked doubtful. ‘It’s tiny.’
Isa rolled her eyes at him. ‘Dude, it’s perfect for us. No grandeur, no state of the art electronics, just you, me and a big bed is enough for what we’ll need it for.’ She slid her arms around his waist, and he smiled as she pressed her lips to his.
The Billionaire Bad Boy Plan Page 51