by Lucy Leroux
Todd shuffled to his feet, moving slowly toward the door. A few steps away he paused and turned back to her. “You should have just taken me back instead of marrying that fucking Jap or whatever he is.”
Unbelievable. Andie wanted to laugh in his face, but she suspected if she started, she would never stop. A little hysterical bubble escaped anyway.
“He’s a much better fuck,” she said, with a choked laugh as tears began to fill her eyes. “Like ten thousand times better than you. Most men are, though,” she added from between set lips.
If these were going to be her last words to him, or to anyone, she wanted to make them count. There would be no pleading or begging from her.
The killer near the door snorted, but Todd’s face crumpled. He turned to Juliet. “Andie can dump the doc and go to work for you. Imagine how much more money you would make with both of you delivering your shit.”
Andie’s throat tightened, and she regretted being so harsh to him. Todd may have been a shit boyfriend but he did care about her in his way.
Unfortunately, his appeal didn’t work.
“I wish that was a possibility, but Eric Tam won’t understand if she wants to end things with him to return work at the club.” Juliet turned to Andie. “I’m right, aren’t I? Your doctor won’t go away this time. Not now that you’ve married him.”
Andie didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Juliet was so much smarter and ruthless than she had realized.
“Get him out of here.”
The guy at the door shoved Todd again, hard. Before she knew it they were gone and she was alone with Juliet and the second killer.
Andie focused on her knotted hands. If she looked up at them she was going to break down, and no matter what happened next, she wasn’t going to show weakness.
“He’s right, you know. I could make you a lot of money,” she lied, grasping at the last straw in sight. “Eric loves Vegas. I can just tell him I want to live here and he’ll move back, no questions asked. I can even expand your client list through the people I’ll meet being with him. He knows a lot of rich people. Some of them must like to party.”
Her mouth tasted faintly of bile and she wondered if the lie had sounded as weak to them as it had in her ears.
“I’m going to go,” Juliet said. Her voice sounded as if it was coming from a million miles away. “Text me when it’s over.”
The tears did fall then, but Andie clamped her lips shut, and refused to make a sound.
“Are you sure?” the man asked her. “I know some people that would pay a lot of money for a piece of ass like this.”
“No. Her husband would never stop looking for her and he’s connected to the McLachlans. We can’t risk it. Make sure not to leave a mark. That means no fucking her or they’ll know something else went down. I’m going to write the note now. I know her handwriting well enough.”
Andie closed her eyes against the rising tide of nausea threatening to spill over.
I should never have left the hotel. How was Eric going to feel? His new bride was going to be found dead two days into their marriage.
Don’t believe any lies Juliet writes, she prayed silently, hoping there was some way he could hear her.
He will know the truth, she decided, calming slightly. No matter what happened, what the note said, he would know it was all a lie. He had to.
Legs appeared in front of her. She didn’t look up to thug number two, but she didn’t have to. He thrust a glass of something in her face. It smelled like vodka, but it had a distinctive purple tinge to it.
“Fucking waste,” he mumbled under his breath before shaking the glass at her. “Drink this,” he said in a louder voice.
“No,” she whispered. Andie wasn’t going to help them make this appear like an accident or suicide. He was going to have to shoot her.
“I said drink bitch.”
She shook her head. Shuddering all over, she gasped involuntarily when the cold barrel of the gun pressed against her forehead.
“Drink.”
“No.”
The asshole swore long and viciously, but she ignored him.
Andie put her hands around her knees and hugged them tight. Then she squeezed her eyes shut, and waited for the bullet that would end her life.
Chapter 18
“Why the fuck isn’t Andie picking up her phone?” Mike yelled in his ear.
Eric winced, pulling his cell phone a little farther from his head. He’d just arrived at the club. It was still pretty dead, but Trey had called him into his office to discuss their ongoing security strategy.
“I think she’s still at the hotel,” he said, shrugging at Trey, who mouthed, “What’s up?” “She’s getting a massage later and is probably sleeping right now.”
“Well call her as soon as she wakes up. There’s something she needs to know. You too.”
“What is it?”
“I think Andie’s friend Juliet is involved in this Drek business. One of my staff just sent me a video. It’s grainy but I think I’m seeing an exchange there. Todd’s showing her a baggie of pills and she slaps his face and shoves them back in his pocket.”
“Oh, that is weird,” he agreed, sitting down.
“Yeah, and it’s not some lovers spat either. Juliet’s gay.”
He nodded before remembering Mike couldn’t see him. “I’ll call Andie right now,” he promised, turning to Trey. “Are Todd and Juliet both on the schedule?”
“Just Juliet. She should be here by now. Why?”
He explained briefly with Mike still on the line. “Are you coming in?” he asked Mike.
“Yeah. We’ll call the cops in and send them the video. They can decide what action to take.”
“All right. I’m going to call Andie. I’ll have the concierge wake her if I have to. She was crashing on Juliet’s couch before I got here and was talking about going to going to get her stuff sometime this week. But she didn’t mention anything about this before,” he added, in case Mike decided Andie was too close to this mess.
Mike swore in a low voice. “Call your girl now. And have Trey get some guys to watch Juliet. Maybe we can get a buy on film.”
“Okay,” Eric agreed, hanging up right away. He dialed Andie’s cell phone in case she’d woken up in the meantime, but when she didn’t answer he called the hotel’s front desk to ask them to knock on their door.
“I’m sorry, sir. There’s no answer.”
“Look, this may be an emergency. Can you go in with your key card? The room is registered under my name. I can give you permission.”
“We will do that as soon as we have a female staff member get up here to your floor. It’s company policy.”
Eric suppressed a groan and agreed. He held his breath until the guy came back on the line.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Tam. It appears Mrs. Tam isn’t in her room. Our records indicate she called for a cab an hour ago. She left roughly a half hour ago. The address is Kenwood Avenue.”
Fuck! Andie had gone to Juliet’s apartment. He hung up and turned to Trey, who was on his Bluetooth headset, talking in a low voice with one of the security guys on the floor.
“Is Juliet here?” Eric asked.
“She hasn’t clocked in yet,” Trey said with a frown. “Which is atypical. She’s very reliable and has never been late before.”
Of course, she wasn’t late. Juliet wouldn’t jeopardize her job as a waitress at the hottest club on the strip. Not if she was a drug dealer savvy enough to find a way to sell under Trey’s nose.
“I have to go,” he said, trying hard to ignore the tight feeling in his gut. “Call Mike and tell him to head to Juliet’s apartment. It’s four-o-three Kenwood Avenue, number ten.”
“You think something’s going down?” Trey asked, standing up with his phone in hand.
“I think so. Tell him to hurry.”
He didn’t wait for an answer before running out the door.
Chapter 19
Eric arrive
d at Juliet’s apartment only a minute or so after Mike. He pulled his rented Lexus into a slot near the security chief’s tricked-out Dodge truck.
“It’s the one just up there.” He pointed, relieved that the building seemed quiet.
Mike narrowed his eyes at the door on the second story walkway. “Were the blinds drawn the last time you were here?”
Eric frowned. “I don’t think so.” He glanced at the other apartments. Only the ones facing the sun had the blinds down, but it wasn’t that unusual to have them down in units like these. “Do you think there’s something off about that?”
“Probably not, but the reason I’m still here is because I don’t take anything for granted. Wait behind me until I give you a signal.”
Nodding his assent, he trailed behind Mike as the bigger man started up the stairs. Eric’s lips parted as he saw his friend shift from normal man to hunter between one step and the next. Mike stalked down the hall, approaching the door on silent feet.
Eric tried to mimic his friend’s fluid movements, but his medical school hadn’t included black ops training. Wincing, he tried to quiet his absurdly loud breathing. Even his shoes wouldn’t cooperate. They scraped on the concrete hall floor audibly as he trailed a little behind.
He thought Mike would turn and berate him, but he wasn’t paying him any mind. Mike stood in front of Juliet’s door with an intent expression, putting his ear to the wood before abruptly pulling back and fishing a black cylinder out of his pocket. It was a reverse peephole viewer. He fit the barrel over the lens, leaning in to put his eye to the opening.
He held his breath, waiting for an update but Mike didn’t say anything. Without a word he reared back, kicking the door open with a loud splintering crack, then rushed inside at a dead run.
Startled, Eric followed. What he saw at the threshold was nothing short of his worst nightmare.
There was a man with a shaved head bending over Andie. She was lying on the floor, completely still. He didn’t see a gun in the guy’s hands—they were busy arranging Andie’s body.
Eric’s vision darkened. He barely registered when Mike flew toward the assailant. One second he stood next to him at the door, the next he was pulling the guy off her and pounding his face.
The stranger was an experienced fighter, but he didn’t have the years of training Mike did. When the guy threw a punch Mike pushed, forcing him off-balance. The goon struck hard, going for the soft spots of the Adam’s apple and groin to incapacitate Mike, and failing.
Mike returned those strikes with his trademark right hook, a punch so powerful it had felled men much larger than him in one blow. It didn’t let him down now. He hit the guy, and the guy hit the floor and didn’t get up.
“Eric.”
Eric blinked at him, frozen. Mike flinched, going to Andie. He yelled something Eric couldn’t hear. The buzzing in his ears was too loud.
“Eric, if you don’t move your ass she’s going to die!”
The icy grip of shock fractured and Eric gasped, taking a huge lungful of air into his burning lungs.
“Get over here,” Mike ordered, shifting to secure the assailant’s hands with his belt.
Eric stumbled over to Andie, frantically checking for a pulse. In the background he heard Mike calling 911.
“Is she okay?” Mike asked.
Eric didn’t answer. Mike grimaced and finished the call to emergency services before going down on his knees on Andie’s other side. “What can I do?”
Eric’s hands were shaking, his breath coming in short sharp pants. Mike reached out and put his hand on his shoulder. “You need to calm the fuck down. Andie needs you.”
“Yes,” Eric said raggedly in agreement. His hands were still shaking as he opened Andie’s eyes to check her pupils.
He started CPR. “I need you to go to my car and get my med kit. She’s been given an overdose and stopped breathing. I need the Narcan stat!”
Bending, he put his mouth on Andie’s, tossing his keys in Mike’s direction.
His friend jumped to his feet and ran out of the room. It felt like an eternity before pounding footsteps signaled his return, but was probably less than an minute.
Mike threw the black bag down next to them and knelt to tear the zippers open for him.
Eric’s hands had stopped shaking. Indeed all emotion had been wiped away. He was on autopilot now, the years of training kicking in. He reached into the bag and had the Narcan injector assembled within seconds. Eric squeezed Andie’s shoulder, plunging the needle on the thickest part of the muscle. After a beat, he resumed CPR while Mike started counting down aloud. But almost a minute passed and there was no response. Narcan usually worked right away.
Please don’t let her die, Eric prayed.
“The EMTs are here,” Mike said before his voice rose to address the other men. “It’s okay. He’s a doctor. Stand back.”
The paramedics shuffled to one side while Eric prep’d a second dose of Narcan. He injected the drug in Andie’s other shoulder and held his breath, willing her to start breathing again.
She didn’t move, but Eric didn’t stop his ministrations. His rhythmic pattern was determined and textbook perfect. He wasn’t going to stop, not ever.
Somewhere behind him, the EMT’s shuffled. “Should we call it?”
“Don’t even think about it,” Mike growled, shooting them his most intimidating death stare.
One of the EMTs actually hid behind the other one…but Mike was starting to look doubtful himself. It was all over his face—Andie wasn’t going to wake up.
“Yes, she is,” he growled aloud defiantly. But inside Eric was cold to his core.
His hands were ice as they pushed up and down on his wife’s chest. He didn’t let himself think or feel anything. He couldn’t or he would break down. If he did, he would definitely lose her.
An excruciating minute passed before there was some sign. As he lifted his lips from hers, Andie inhaled with a gasp. His may have been louder.
Eric’s eyes burned as he coughed and inhaled in large gulps as if he had been the one who hadn’t been breathing. Tears stung at his eyes as Andie’s lids fluttered and finally opened.
“Eric?” she whispered, looking around in confusion at him and the other assembled men.
That was when he let himself cry.
Chapter 20
Andie groaned and shuddered.
“Ow,” she muttered, opening her eyes to bright sunlight.
“Andie?” Eric came into view. He looked terrible. His eyes were red and puffy and his clothes were rumpled.
“What happened to you?” she asked.
He gave her a sad smile. “I’m okay. It’s what happened to you that I’m worried about.”
What had happened to her? Frowning she struggled to remember, noticing for the first time she was in a hospital room.
“How did I get here?”
“Mike saw Juliet and Todd on the security footage. It implicated her in the drug ring. Do you remember what happened after you went to Juliet’s apartment?”
“I was going to clean it…”
She gasped suddenly. The images of a gun and those two frightening men with Juliet came to mind. “It was her,” she said, numbness spreading through her chest and hands. “She told them to get rid of me.”
“We know. They arrested the man who assaulted you. Mike took him down before the cops came. Your ex-boyfriend turned himself in to police and told them everything. The second man, the one who left him, is at large. So is Juliet.”
“Oh…Oh my God. She had me fooled the whole time. I thought she was just a struggling waitress like me. I can’t believe she was a dealer. Her place was super simple, and she didn’t drive a nice car or have expensive clothes.”
“Yes, the police can’t find any evidence of added income. She hid her operation well.”
Andie collapsed back onto her pillows. The room was spinning. Oh, God. She didn’t remember what had happened to her after Juliet had l
eft. It was all a blur, and she hurt everywhere.
“You said I was assaulted,” she whispered near tears.
Eric took her hand. “Your rape kit was negative. But the man we found with you forced your mouth open to take the drugs. There’s some bruising around your lips and there was residue from the spiked drink all over your shirt.”
He leaned closer, pressing against her side as he squeezed her hand tighter. “I thought I lost you.”
The tears she’d been holding back started falling. “I thought I lost me too. I was so scared.”
“You don’t have to be ever again. I’m never letting you out of my sight. I’m not even going to let you go to the bathroom alone.”
Andie hiccuped and snorted a little, aggressively wiping her tears away. “You know, right now, I’m okay with that.”
Chapter 21
Eric spread the gel over his patient’s extended stomach and waved the sonogram wand over it until he found the baby’s heartbeat.
“Everything seems good,” he told Marie-Claire, walking her through all the vital statistics for a fetus at her stage of pregnancy.
His explanation was detailed and reassuring—and completely for the benefit of Marie-Claire’s anxious husband, celebrity chef Rémy Paquin. His actual patient was a rock, and surprisingly unflappable considering she was approaching the end of her first pregnancy. Next to him, Andie took notes on the vital statistics for Mrs. Paquin’s file.
The chef worked at Calen McLachlan’s five-star restaurant in Paris, Meliae. He was a brilliant culinary artist and Eric was looking forward to eating at the restaurant later that night. But first he had to get the high-strung man back to work, and that wasn’t going to happen until Marie-Claire had been given a clean bill of health.
Glad he was able to give one, he wrapped up the examination without betraying his impatience to get out of there. He had a big surprise for Andie and he was eager to see her face when he gave it to her.