Paradise: The Masters of The Order Novel Two

by Verne, Jillian

  As if he read her thoughts, he said, “Hope, Isabella. I fight for you because I have hope.”

  The determination in his eyes gave her courage, but she didn’t dare to hope. She did however refuse to go down without a fight and she’d found her champion. Sucking in a heavy breath, Isabella put her life into Dr. Boucher’s hands.

  *****

  Craig had a vice grip on the steering wheel.

  How could fate choose this for a woman like Isla? Aren’t there enough assholes walking the planet to target or is there some cosmic conspiracy against angels?

  Three days ago, he’d been so excited to see her. Envisioned a long night of ice cream and chocolate martinis, the barrage of curse words she would spew when he told her about his latest break-up, the passion in her eyes when she told him all the dirty details of her Jacques. And then she stepped through the gate. One look and he burst into a sprint.

  “Oh, no, baby. What happened? Oh, no. No, Isla.”

  She collapsed into his embrace. If he hadn’t been holding her up, she would have fallen to the ground with the weight of her sorrow. It exploded all over him. He held tight while she fell apart in his arms.

  “Let me help,” he’d offered as he wiped the tears from her cheeks knowing he couldn’t. Even a best friend was powerless to heal a broken heart. Isla tried to lie about Jacques, but come on. She wasn’t in love like he was the Queen of England. He wanted to knock her on the forehead to remind her who she was talking to, but given the state she was in, put a lock on his lips and listened. He did not hear what he expected.

  Cancer. Fucking cancer.

  So now, here he was, driving his best friend to Institut Gustave Roussy like he’d done so many times before. But this time, Isla wasn’t going to work. She was checking herself in, giving them permission to pump poison into her veins, shoot radiation into her brain, essentially reduce her to a comatose shadow of a person for two weeks, all in an almost certainly futile attempt to destroy a microscopic killer. And all he could do was try to snap the goddamn, motherfucking, cocksucking steering wheel in his hands.

  “Promise me you’ll come every day,” Isabella said from beside him.

  “I don’t plan to leave, Isla.” His suitcase was in the trunk next to her overnight bag.

  “You can’t move into the hospital, Craig,” she chastised him. “You have to eat and sleep and shower.”

  That was so like Isla, worrying about everybody else and not herself.

  “You won’t know if I stink anyway, bossy girl.” He’d meant to make a joke, but man, he missed by a mile with that comment. “I know all of the nurses, they’ll fix me up.”

  She turned, trying to look threatening.

  “If you don’t take care of yourself, I’m going to kick that cute ass when I wake up.”

  She just looked sad.

  “Kick away, angel. I’m looking forward to it,” he could barely get the words out past the lump in his throat.

  Silence filled the car until she said, “I’m scared, Craig.”

  He released the wheel and reached across the seat for her hand. “I know, baby, I know.”

  *****

  “Please come to order. The honorable Whalen van Reimsdyk presiding.”

  The judge entered the courtroom and before his ass even hit the chair, Hartnell’s hired gun shot to his feet. “Your honor, we reassert our objection to the timing of…”

  “Sit down, Buddy.”

  “Your honor, if I may…”

  “I said. Sit. Down.”

  If you were fool enough not to know it already, the growl from the bench announced that no one disrespects the honorable judge in his house. Buddy Rae Simmons sat right on down. Sabin winked at Joe Lee.

  Whalen was a reasonable man, as anticipated, and it didn’t even take forty-five minutes before Hartnell and his high priced posse of legal fools found themselves hightailin’ it out of court with a fine instead of an injunction. The cost of the work stoppage in New Mexico was worth the look on Joe Lee’s face.

  Sabin was reaching for his phone to snap a picture to text to Jacques when Joe Lee walked up to him. “Spare a moment, Sabin.” he asked as they left the courtroom.

  “I suppose so.”

  Sabin sent Lily ahead to wait in the car. She’d played her role perfectly. In Texas, the man with the biggest hat and the prettiest girl wins. No hats in the courtroom, but his arm candy was a stunner. He thought the macho routine was dumb, but when in Rome.

  Lily really got into her role. You’d never guess she was a self-proclaimed celibate. She'd come a long way since the Order sent her to live on his ranch, but she still had a lot of healing to do. She didn’t lay one finger on him, but the heat in those exotic eyes and the sexed-up body language poured over him like sweet molasses throughout the entire hearing. He felt sorry for the fake blonde cozying up to Joe Lee.

  Sabin met his nemesis in the vestibule of the courthouse. His bodyguards stood off at a discreet distance. He hadn’t gone anywhere without them since the government approvals for the New Mexico facility became public. The man in front of him was the rat who crawled from the bushes, but he knew one thing for sure: if there’s one rat you can see, there’s gonna be fifty you can’t. The others hid behind Joe Lee, but they were there and posed very real threat. It would suck to be dead, so he lived with his shadows.

  “Sabin, my boy.” Joe Lee’s face split with a grin as he extended his chubby hand.

  Sabin grinned back, looking for Joe Lee’s shadow. It was usually his dipshit son, Blake. “You wanted to talk. Cut to the chase, Joe Lee.”

  “We are prepared to negotiate.”

  “We?”

  Joe Lee ignored the invitation to name names. “My partners and I are willing to pay a very generous price to purchase your intellectual property and take over the facility in New Mexico.”

  “My partners and I weren’t aware that it was for sale.”

  Joe Lee clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “You’re a Texas man, Sabin. Wouldn’t you rather have trustworthy partners?”

  Sabin rolled it off. “By trustworthy, you mean American?”

  “What else?” said the xenophobic idiot. “Our price will make you a very rich man.”

  He had to laugh at that. “I’m already a very rich man.”

  Joe Lee’s eyes turned a little meaner. “You can’t take it with you, Sabin.”

  There was the chase: money does nothing for a corpse.

  Conversation over.

  Before Sabin turned to leave, he sneered and Joe Lee backed up. He may be a wimp, but not a complete idiot. “Let me make this real simple for ya. First, I’m not your boy. Second, you’re not worthy to shine the shoes of Jacques Meszaros and Takahiro Kotani, you ignorant ass. And third, when I’m through, maybe I’ll buy JLH Oil and your coward ass cohorts out of bankruptcy. Nice chattin’ with ya, Joe Lee.” He started away.

  Joe Lee called after him, “Don’t hold your head too high, cowboy. You’re walking down a scary road.” Sabin didn’t look back until Hartnell fired his real shot. “And you ain’t walkin’ alone.”

  Sabin took off at a full run, heading straight for the car. He fucked up. Huge.

  He tore open the door. “Lily.”

  Wide, wet eyes met his as his bodyguards, the ones who stayed with him, jumped in.

  Christ Almighty, how long was I talking to that prick? Did they have time to…?

  Her black hair was a mess; her blouse, cut straight through from her neck to her waist. He threw his arms around her as the car sped away from the curb.

  Lily was fragile and not just physically. The Order sent her to live with him so he could protect her. Fucking protect her and he let this happen. It took him days before she’d refer to herself in the first person; a week, before she’d look him in the eye. She hardly spoke, made no requests and shied away from the slightest physical contact. He was going kill for this.

  “The man who sat behind Joe Lee gave me a message.” Lily’s words were ba
rely audible. “For you.”

  And Blake Hartnell was the dead man.

  “Did he rape you, Lily?” Sweet Jesus, let the answer be no.

  “No. He cut my blouse with his knife and said to tell you that if you and Jacques don’t shut down the New Mexico facility, he will.”

  *****

  “Hey, baby, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”

  His lover du jour shook his shoulders. Teo could tell by the way she said “baby” that she didn’t remember his name.

  Been there, done that.

  The dream. Again. Ever since he’d spoken to Isla, the bitch had gotten into his head and wouldn’t let go. He was playing a concert, rocking out before a few hundred bodies, but instead of the stench of alcohol, sweat and weed, he smelled the disgusting reek of carnations. He’d only smelled that smell once before. At nineteen. Standing next to the body of his dead abuelo. The cloying smell of hundreds of carnations from the sprays surrounding the casket invaded every pore. He ran from the room and puked in the bushes.

  That smell, that putrid smell, was the smell of the dead.

  He rolled his legs over the side of the bed and ran his hands over his face trying to even his breathing.

  “That must have been some dream, lover. I’ve got something that will calm you down.” His lover fished through the drawer in the night table and tossed a baggie across the bed. “Help yourself.”

  Teo recognized every pill beneath the plastic. Knew exactly what each one would do. He’d been drug free for three years, one month and seventeen days. You’d think by now, this shit would be easier, but handing back that little bag was like hurling a shot put. He usually got himself out of this type of situation by picturing Isla’s face, but the vision of her in his mind now froze his fingers.

  The dream. It was about Isla.

  The smell, an omen of her death.

  *****

  Sancta Maria. Isabella unzipped her sundress.

  Ora pro nobis. Set her shoes together next to the bed.

  Sancta Dei Génetrix. Pulled the elastic tie from her hair.

  Ora pro nobis. Placed the cross around her neck into a jewelry pouch.

  Sancta Virgo virginum. Removing anything personal. Anything that distinguished her.

  Ora pro nobis. Becoming anonymous, one more in a long line that occupied this room.

  A litany of patients. A litany of saints.

  Pray for me.

  “Please let me call your family, Isla. They should be here with you.”

  “I can’t do that to them, Craig,” she answered softly. She understood how much she was asking of her best friend, but she had to do it. She couldn’t hurt her family, couldn’t risk Teo’s sobriety and knew Craig would forgive her.

  “You’re not doing anything to them, Isla, any more than you’re doing something to me. They love you like I do. Hell, probably more.”

  “You promised.” Her eyes met his and she watched all of his arguments float away like petals to the wind.

  Craig understood. Craig always understood.

  He picked up her dress and shoes with a sigh, set them in her overnight bag and took a brush to her hair. “Alright, angel. It’s just you and me.” Then he looked over her shoulder with a smile. “When we get out of here, you owe me thirty backrubs, seven quarts of double fudge ice cream and more red wine than you can afford.”

  “You got it. Love you, Craig.”

  “Love you too, Isla.”

  He brushed her hair in silence while they waited for the doctor to arrive.

  *****

  “Leave a message…”

  Friday

  “Baby girl, it’s your favorite brother. Hey, I’m sorry about our last call. What can I say? I’m an asshole. Hit me back when you get home.” Teo.

  “Good afternoon, sir. If you would please call me. There are a few matters that require your attention. Thank you.” Patricia.

  “Cousin, I hope the fact that I haven’t heard from you means you’re smothered in a sexy Spanish seductress. Call when you come up for air.” Nicolai.

  “Yee Haw! Jacques, we won. Kicked that fat bastard right out of court. Judge even fined him for misuse of a restraining order. Construction resumes Monday. Sorry about busting up your fun with Isabella, stellar girl by the way, but you’ll have to be in New Mexico on Wednesday. Kotani’s bringing some potential new backers for a little look-see. Koreans this time. And there’s another thing I want to tell you, but it will wait until I catch you live. Signing off.” Sabin.

  “Jerard, it’s Isla. I’m back in Paris. Listen, I don’t know what’s happening with you right now, but I meant what I said about being there for you. You won’t be able to reach me for a while, but if you need anything my brother Teo will help. He will understand. Just tell him you’re my friend. I texted his phone number. Remember the angels, Jerard.” Isabella.

  “Teo, I’m sorry I haven’t called. Everything is fine, but I’m going to be away for a while longer. I can’t explain, hermano. You just have to trust me. I will call when I can. Te amo.” Isabella.

  “Isabella, I, I…apologize.” Jacques.

  Saturday

  “I apologize for the call, sir. I understand you are very busy, but if you wouldn’t mind, I need a few moments.” Patricia.

  “I know you’re mad, but seriously, calling when you know I’m on stage. Nice try, hermana mía. Call me back.” Teo.

  “Don’t get mad, but Julianne wants to meet Isabella. I promised we’d have dinner when you get back. If you’ve got a different plan, good luck with it. Not sure whether I’ve created a masterpiece or a monster. Let me know when and say hello to Isabella.” Nicolai.

  “Isabella, if we could talk, I would be grateful.” Jacques.

  “I’m gonna assume Isabella is still there and that’s why I haven’t heard hide nor hair from you, partner. Wednesday, no excuses.” Sabin.

  “……” Jerard.

  Sunday

  “She left me, Nico. I don’t know what to do. My God, she left me.” Jacques.

  “Jacques, where are you? Call me back. Right now.” Nicolai.

  “This isn’t funny, Isabella. Look, I have to talk to you. Call me.” Teo.

  “Craig, it’s Teo. I got a strange message from Isla and, well, is everything alright? I’m going crazy man, hit me back and tell me she’s alright.” Teo.

  “Do you ever answer the damn phone, cousin? Call me back in the next hour or I’m on the next plane to Monaco.” Nicolai.

  “Jesus, brother, I just got off the phone with Nico. Are you sure she’s gone? I mean gone, gone. Come to the ranch. We’ll figure it out. Any word from Jerard?” Sabin.

  “Teo said he hasn’t heard from you for over a week and I know he’s hiding something. Call me, little sister.” Joaquim.

  “Isabella, I know I hurt you. I don’t have any excuses for what I did. I will never forgive myself, but please, if you can find it in your heart, please just let me hear your voice.” Jacques.

  Monday

  “Damn it, Jacques. We’re worried sick. Call. Right now or I’m gonna get on a plane just so I can kick your ass. By the way, I sent a private dick to search for Jerard. Nothing yet.” Sabin.

  “Call me, Isabella. Today!” Joaquim.

  “Isla, I know you don’t want to talk to me, but please, hermana. I know something’s wrong, I’ve felt it for a few weeks. I need you, hermana. I can’t go on like this. Please come back to me. I’m lost without you.” Teo.

  “Um, sir, um, I apologize for calling again. This is Patricia. From your office. If you wouldn’t mind sparing a few minutes, things are a little problematic here and I need your attention. Um, just for a few minutes, sir. Please.” Patricia.

  “Plane just landed. Be there in an hour.” Nicolai.

  “Isabella, I’ve been up all night thinking about us, you. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but at least tell me what’s wrong. I know something’s wrong. I may be an ignoramus, but I figured that much out. You were
trying to escape something, not just your job. You said it wasn’t me, it was you. What about you? What’s going on? Please, Isabella, let me help you. Let me in some small way make up for what I’ve done to you.” Jacques.

  “Teo, this is Craig. Your sister is going to murder me for this, but what she wants is wrong. It’s just wrong and I can’t deny it anymore. It’s Isla, Teo, and it’s bad.” Craig.

  15

  Trying to Live

  “When will she wake up?”

  Another set of fingers lifted Isla’s wrist, another entry was jotted on a chart before Teo got another non-answer. “Soon, monsieur. The medications that have kept like this take time to wear away. When they do, she will open her eyes.”

  Teo couldn’t bear another second without Isla’s eyes. He’d spent ten days in this room staring at his sister’s prone body, the tubes cutting into her arms, the taped monitors marring her skin. He didn’t want her to have to listen to the soulless blips and beeps from the machines surrounding her so he played his guitar. When his fingers were bleeding too much for him to continue, he sang into her ear.

  When the nurse left them alone, he leaned close to press a kiss on Isla’s cheek and whispered, “Come back, hermana mía. It’s time for you to come back. I can’t live without you.”

  “Any change?” Craig asked as he entered the hospital room.

  Teo blinked back the tears as he turned. “No.”

  A hand pressed on his shoulder. “Dr. Boucher said we have to have hope. She’s going to be alright, Teo. I believe that. You should too.”

  He didn’t have faith. He found no comfort in Craig’s platitudes, but he was grateful that his sister had such a dear friend and he said so.