by Mimi Barbour
Her conscience squawked. What? You think you’re the only one who’s got troubles, who’s ever had it tough? That everyone but you was born lucky? Grow up, girl! Life throws curves at every single one of us, and as Tyler says, it’s how we catch the ball and throw it back that counts.
Within, the debating continued to rage incessantly. She stepped out of the dark path near the tree-lined edge of the street and moved towards the entranceway of the subway’s descending steps. She flipped her hood off and shook her hair loose.
Cruel hands grabbed the strands and hauled her into hard, bruising arms. “You are one stupid bitch.” Doug sneered close to her ear. Spit sprayed her cheek and automatically she tried to turn her head. Big mistake. He tugged harder. “I knew you’d end up here eventually. How else could you get home, right?”
Stupid bastard, a lot you know. If I’d followed Tyler’s instructions, I’d be asleep in Annie’s spare bedroom.
Not being quite as dumb as he’d tagged her, she played him. He was easy. “Doug, I was on my way to find you, I swear. They finally quit nagging and messing with me. They go on and on—blah, blah, blah. The silly preacher had to fall asleep before I was able to get away. What a bunch of nauseating bullshit.”
Her voice cracked with emotion that lent it a ring of truth. God, let him believe me, please! Lea, you idiot! You’re a rare kind of stupid for not realizing he’d be waiting. He must have followed us home from Dominic’s. Probably needs money.
He had her locks twined through his fingers, which kept her head twisted at a painfully awkward angle. She remembered how much he enjoyed her discomfort by the low purring mutters he made with each wrench. A pounding headache pulsed and it felt as if her neck might snap. How she detested him!
Stalks of hatred grew and flourished in the fertile areas of her heart where infatuation had lived at one time. In those days, in her idiotic childishness, she’d fantasized that love had brought them together. No more.
She’d met him the first week she hit the streets running from a dysfunctional, drugged-out single mom whose johns preferred the ripe daughter’s body to that of the used, droopy, unwashed thirty-five-year-old. Up until that last night, with her mother’s protection, she’d been able to get away from the slobbering male lips, groping fingers, and obvious intentions.
In the end, the power of the drugs prevailed, and Lea realized she couldn’t count on her mother’s help any longer. The woman’s beseeching eyes cared for only one thing—the relief money would bring. It was like a streak of lightning ripping through a pitch-black room when the understanding became clear. No doubt it would merely be a matter of time until some slimy jerk caught her. Without help, she’d not be able to escape. Packing up her T-shirts, an extra pair of jeans, her toothbrush, and a few bucks she’d earned babysitting, she left the rented room that was all they’d been able to afford for the past few years. She ran from a sad life—true—but still scary as hell to say good-bye.
The first nights out in the open were terrifying. Strange people, weird sounds, and ugly images after dark crisscrossed with normal people’s automatic kind gestures during the days, and left mixed impressions on the panicky sixteen-year-old. The one big lesson she learned quickly—no one really gave a damn. Street kids accepted her, but with limitations. As long as she didn’t take anything of theirs—be it a corner, a partner, money, whatever—she could hang out. Frightened and weary, she’d backed away from disagreements, slunk to the sidelines, learning quickly how to fade.
One day a cocky, streetwise Doug noticed her. He befriended her and then enslaved her. At first, she thought she loved him, her savior from fear, loneliness, and the unknown. In those days he wasn’t a bad-looking guy, and he had a style about him that, to an untried girl, seemed grown-up and charismatic.
He’d been kind to her those first few months, and with lavish puppy-dog devotion she’d bequeathed him master status while she played the role of man’s best friend. In those early days he’d hidden his drug habit, as that was the one area she’d been adamant and very vocal about. Refusing to see any side of using that was positive, she’d obsessed about the grisly sordidness and the way drugs ruled the person in the end. After all, she’d been up close and personal, hadn’t she? She wanted nothing to do with white powder, smoking shit, or needles. Never again would she live with someone who was hooked.
Yeah, right!
The guys Doug hung out with were another issue altogether. She’d hated them from the beginning. During the few hours she and Doug spent alone in his place, she pretended they were the same as any normal young couple. She cooked and kept the place spotless, in between bouts of lovemaking that all too soon became more along the lines of him overpowering and manipulating her to do things that made her uncomfortable.
She’d tried to be what he wished her to be, and she listened to him when he called her a baby, when he told her she needed to grow up. Going against her common sense and her ingrained decency, she’d wanted to please him. But he never stopped pushing. Each time she succumbed, he’d take it to a lower, more disgusting level. The bottom had been reached weeks ago. Black eyes, bruised ribs, and a broken heart were sufficient evidence, even to her, that she had to escape. His scary death threats had stopped her from running away, till now, but no more.
Doug sensed her unfocused attention, and a vicious tug quickly brought her awareness back his way. “You ignoring me?” More spit.
“Babe, I was coming home.” Sincerity rang in her voice because it was the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough for the doped-up scumbag to hear.
He loosened her hair some. “Why do I find that hard to believe? Hey? Why? You didn’t come out of the restaurant tonight when you spotted me, and I know you did.”
“I tried. You saw me get up.” Her tone dropped to a scornful sarcasm. “But that jerk-off pizza maker stopped me. I think he was scared you’d make trouble for his customers.” Not wanting to push her luck, she changed her tone to a whine. “I waited until I could leave without any problems. I knew you’d be smart enough to figure it out.”
Playing to his ego, a trick she’d picked up soon after her first beating, worked with him every time. He was pathetic.
“Okay, I get it. Good thinking. Did you happen to get a hold of any money or jewelry?”
“Naw! They never left me alone.” She hoped he’d forget that she’d already told him Annie had fallen asleep.
“Shit! Why else would you hang in there with them so long? Stupid bitch! I’ve been waiting out here freezing my butt off.”
“I never asked you to. Did I?” Spunky. After sharing a wonderful night with normal people, she forgot.
The slap across her mouth reminded her quickly enough. “Sorry! Doug, I didn’t mean anything.” God, she was so sick of saying sorry to the sorriest human being she’d ever known.
“Don’t diss me—ever, you piece of—”
“I’m sorry! Look, I have enough for fare. Let’s just go home.”
His glassy eyes and sweating face told its own story. The indications he was coming down, hard and fast, worried her. Thankfully, as soon as they reached the subway tracks their train pulled into the deserted station.
The ride was excruciating. His piercing stare had her worried about where his mind lurked. She’d seen that determination before, and it usually preceded his demands for her to earn him enough money to buy. So far she’d lucked out and hadn’t had to give in too often. She dreaded—no, hated—being forced, but she also understood another beating like the last one could put her in the hospital or even the morgue.
Pretending an interest in the other three people riding the subway car prevented her having to talk with the twitching mess next to her. There were two white-haired men sitting together, locked in conversation, and farther down sat a kid trying unsuccessfully to look cool. His slouching posture, half-closed eyelids, and sneering face might have worked if his hands, clenching and unclenching, hadn’t given him away.
Periodical station
stops had more people getting on. A few laborers carrying lunchboxes, and three giggling girls dressed in the uniform of youth—low-cut jeans, form-fitting designer sweatshirts, and piercings.
Doug’s elbow, jabbing in her ribs, forced her attention back to him. Sweat pooled on his forehead and dripped off his nose and chin. His eyes registered panic. Bloodless lips, squeezed together and rolled into his mouth, accentuated his pain. The muscles in his throat worked convulsively. He shoved at her and jerked his head toward the exit, telling her without words he needed to get off. It was two stops from their place, but she had no choice. She rose and walked over to the doors to wait until they opened. He leaned on her, and when the time came she helped him step out.
He started to move away, to head for the stairs, but she purposely tripped and compelled him to go down with her. He let go of her arm and she gave a mighty heave, pushing him over. Without a second to spare, she rose and sprinted behind the subway car’s closing doors, leaving him sprawled on the ground, clutching his stomach and cursing.
Oh, God! Oh, God! She’d gone and done it now. She had maybe an hour to get to the apartment, pack her stuff, and disappear, or else he’d catch her. The thought of his punishment horrified Lea past bearing. His certain fury galvanized her. Mumbled prayers were all about having enough time to get cleanly away. Him catching her now was unthinkable, unimaginable.
Chapter Sixteen
The doorbell’s melodious peal interrupted Annie’s intense dreams in which she and Tyler had been making love. His mouth and hands had journeyed all over her body, while she’d squirmed and wriggled to make sure he had full access. Panting and whimpering, her body gushed with excitement. Reveling in the ecstasy and near fulfillment, she fought waking up.
But the noise wouldn’t stop. It took a few seconds for her to realize where she was. Rising quickly, she stiffly hobbled over to open the door.
“Hi, sleepyhead.” Tyler leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed as well as his legs. Affectionate chuckles greeted her, turning her mushy. There was something about his mischievous eyes that fit with the images in her recent dream. Her nose, tickled by the scent of his familiar cologne, activated another sense. Everything she’d been imagining came together. Her previous fantasies solidified into actual memories. The visions that had seemed so blasted familiar weren’t visions at all—they were real.
She gasped. “It was you! In my bedroom that night, it was you.”
“Finally! I wondered when you’d remember. And don’t expect me to apologize, because I won’t. My one regret is that we couldn’t finish what we started.” The puzzlement sweeping her face stopped his rambling. “You really didn’t remember?”
“I only get brief glimpses. It’s still pretty fuzzy.”
“Anytime you want a re-enactment, I’m ready and willing.”
While his eyes filled with heat and a transparent warning, his unique grin slid over her, saying, Don’t provoke me. Warmth started from the very center of her heart and spread to the outer limits. The taste of him, fresh from her dreams, compelled her to stare at his lips, mesmerized.
He stared back, straightened from his lazy stance, and started towards her. He would have kept coming except for her extended hands held upright. A long sigh escaped. It was then he noticed she still wore the same outfit as the night before. Startled, she saw him scan the room.
“Where’s Lea?” Anxiety edged his voice as he glanced behind her, searching.
Annie turned also and saw the blanket she’d snuggled under during the night. Horrified, she shook her head. A mad dash into the bedroom confirmed her suspicions. White-faced, she returned to Tyler. “She’s not here! She must have skipped out.”
Before he turned away, Annie noted the frustration on Tyler’s face. Guilt rode her hard. “I’m sorry. You warned me I was too tired to stay up with her, and you were right. She talked and talked, and I fought to keep my eyes open, but obviously it didn’t work. I must have fallen asleep. I’m so sorry. I feel terrible, Tyler.”
He searched her expression, not saying a word. As if compelled, his hand started to rise in her direction.
“Oh, my God! What time is it?” She grabbed his arm, twisted it until his watch faced her way, and gasped. “I’m supposed to be at the office early for a crucial meeting. I have to get ready. Look, Tyler, I’m really sorry, but you’ll have to leave. I’ll call you later, after I get home.” She physically pushed him out the door and hardened her heart to his flabbergasted reaction.
Scarcely an hour passed before she was bolting from the elevator onto the fortieth floor of the office building, primed and ready to face off with anyone who gave her any trouble. Drizzling cold rain had been a problem from the moment she’d stepped from her apartment, and gale force winds had almost knocked her to the ground. She felt damp, bitchy, and in no mood for any other glitches to wreck the day that had started out so badly.
Unsuspecting, she came face to face with her future. A man, haughty and handsome at first glance, controlled and ruthless apparent with the second. He paused in front of her, one eyebrow raised, and, in a commanding voice with a strong British accent, he demanded, “Who are you?”
“Ex-cuse me?” Who the hell was this uppity stranger?
“You don’t remember your name?”
Now he was being insulting. “Of course I know my name. What I can’t figure out is why you’re asking as if you own the place.”
“Because I do. I’m Nigel Cromwell, Montaro’s new proprietor. Now, I want to know who you are, and why you’re just now arriving—if you’re employed here that is, and I’m presuming you are?” He pointedly stared at her brimming briefcase.
“My name is Anna—”
“You’re Anna Hynes. Good. I’ve been waiting for you. Come into the office, where we can have a chat. I saw your name on the company management chart and knew we needed to talk before the coming board meeting.”
Without losing a beat, he grasped Annie’s arm and steered her into her own office. Sitting her down in front of her desk, he then made his way around to sit in her chair. Words poured in a steady stream as he moved.
He’s a freaking tornado! “I’m sorry, you were saying?” Annie opened her eyes wide with pretended innocence. She hadn’t been paying attention, and recognized he was aware of it.
“I was saying that many changes will be forthcoming, but for now, I’d prefer to have the day-to-day operations in each sector carry on as usual. I realize you’ve been one of those instrumental in keeping things running smoothly for the last while. Therefore, I wanted to have a private chat with you before our formal gathering, which, I might add, had to be postponed for an hour, since you’re rather tardy.”
Arghh! “It’s never happened before. All the extra hours I’ve been working finally caught up with me last night.” She didn’t like the fact that she felt obliged to make excuses, but her tongue kept flapping. “Then I had a bit of a personal crisis to deal with. Afterwards, I fell asleep without setting my alarm. All in all it wasn’t the best of evenings.”
“Well, be that as it may, I’m sure I can rely on you to keep to your set hours from now on.”
With her tone sour as hell, Annie answered, “I take it that means for me to leave at my set hour, also?” She stuck her chin out, and her glare dared him to argue.
“That’s entirely up to you and how much work you’ve left at the end of your day.” He turned the tables on her, and he’d done it with finesse. The jerk!
She saw his aloof gray eyes narrow. A small smile lifted his full lips—but only for a second before it disappeared.
A face full of faulty equipment! His expressions seemed mechanical somehow. And to her it looked as if some of the settings weren’t in sync. The thought popped into her head and lightened her attitude at once. A sucker for romance novels, Annie thought the man sitting in front of her could have been a cover model. His longish hair looked to be styled with a blow dryer. The dark designer suit draped over his large physique impli
ed wealth and style, and the crisp white shirt and red tie emphasized his bronzed complexion.
No doubt about it, her new boss was a very attractive man. Maybe the most handsome man she’d ever seen, other than in a fashion magazine. She’d wait and see if his insides matched the outer package.
He broke into her thoughts, his tone somewhat snippy. “I’ve lost you again, Miss Hynes. You’ve gone off into your own world. Look, I accept this is a difficult situation for you, loyalty to one boss versus a responsibility to the company and the employees. But you have the power to help make this coming process as painless as possible. Therefore, I’d rather like to be able to count on you. Tell me now if you’re not up to it, and we’ll make other arrangements. You need to know that by keeping you in place I’m yielding to the rules Hugo set down. All top management has to be kept on for the first year and be phased out only when and if it’s requested.”
“You mean if it’s requested by the employee.”
“Yes, of course, if requested by them.” His focus conspicuously switched to the pen he’d picked up and started twiddling.
“I’d prefer to talk to Hugo before you and I have our chat. Is he here in the building?”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, or necessary. He didn’t come in today, but I suppose you can reach him at his home. I’ll leave you to it, but I’ll be expecting you shortly in my office. I’ve taken to using the conference room for the time being. We do have a lot to cover before gathering with the others.”
He stood to leave, but his steps slowed as he reached the doorway. He turned, stayed silent, and waited for her to look up at him. A kind of power play she detested. She felt him staring. Within seconds she gave over to his compelling lure and faced him. The news that Hugo hadn’t come in rocked her world, and she realized this man had been aware of her reaction.