Kiss Me If You Dare

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Kiss Me If You Dare Page 24

by Nicole Young


  I couldn’t blame her for wanting to wall me out of her life. “Thank you for the invitation, but I can’t wait until supper. I really need to talk to him right away.”

  “His shift ends at-”

  Monique cut her off. “Mom. It’s seriously important. Take us down there. Please.”

  Hands on her hips, Suzette gave a sigh. She looked toward her partner at the controls. “Can you man the helm while I take care of a family emergency?”

  The worker nodded. “Take your time. Everything’s normal on the board.”

  “Thanks, Pete.” She followed the carpet out the door. “This isn’t exactly protocol,” she murmured as we hastened to keep up with her. She swung a finger in Monique’s direction. “You and I are going to have a little talk later.”

  “Sorry, Mom. I just know how I’d want to be treated if I were in her position.”

  A shelf filled with hardhats lined the wall. We sized them up and put one on. Suzette remained quiet as we waited for the elevator.

  I couldn’t take the smothering silence. “This is all my fault.”

  Suzette raised her eyebrows as if to say a sarcastic “really?”

  I grimaced. “I should never have involved your daughters, but it’s urgent that I speak to… Roger. Monique offered to drive me here, and Meagan couldn’t stay at the house by herself, just in case.”

  Suzette’s arms twisted like giant pretzels. “Just in case what?”

  Meagan rushed to fill her in. “Just in case the bad man is after us. He’s coming, Mom. Patricia said he might already be in town.”

  I flapped my hands in denial. “No, no. I don’t know. Maybe someone might be following me, who can say?” “Just as Roger feared,” Suzette said in a weary voice. “Please,” I said while the elevator continued its descent. “This is completely unintentional. I had no idea my dad was in Churchill Falls when I arrived.”

  “Just one big coincidence,” came Suzette’s cynical reply. “I have a hard time believing that.”

  “No one is more surprised than me.” My stomach began floating into my rib cage. “How far down does this thing go, anyway?”

  Monique answered. “Close to three hundred meters.” She must have seen the lack of comprehension on my face. “Almost a thousand feet to you Americans.”

  A fifth of a mile. That was almost half the distance from the highway to the lodge on Valentine’s Bay. One-third the distance from the bus stop in Del Gloria to the row of houses on Rios Buena Suerta. A tiny fraction of the distance that now stretched between Brad’s heart and mine.

  The elevator slowed and dropped to a halt. We followed a clammy tunnel toward the sound of churning machinery. The passage opened into a cavernous room that looked as long as a football field. Chunky boxes colored red, yellow, blue, and green made a line down the center, like a Rubik’s Cube tournament for giants. Next to each square was a railed-in flight of stairs, heading below ground. The walls were home to more buttons and dials along with color-coordinated doors, each with a number lit up above.

  “This is the powerhouse,” Monique explained in a voice loud enough to conquer the roar. “The electricity made here every year from harnessing the Churchill River takes a conventional power company 158 thousand barrels of oil a day to produce.”

  “Kudos to the tree huggers,” I said, watching two men in hardhats walk along the far wall, wondering if one of them was my father.

  “Let’s hustle, girls,” Suzette said, taking off at a brisk pace toward the other end.

  Cubes passed by in a whiz of color.

  Suzette slowed and hailed the men, arm held high. “Roger. We need you a minute.”

  My father turned his head at his wife’s voice. His eyes met hers, skimmed over his daughters, then shot to me. For a minute he looked like he might be sick again. Somehow he fought it off. He turned to his partner, gave some kind of explanation, and walked our way.

  My hands shook as he came closer. What would I say to him anyway? Hey, Dad, nice meeting you, I’d love to talk, but there’s this evil dude coming after you and we really ought to leave town for a while?

  He stood in front of me, Suzette talking in one ear, his daughters in the other. I just stared. Captivated. Jacob Russo in the flesh. My father. All the heartache he’d caused my mother-driving drunk and letting her take the rap, doing drugs and not being there for her, leaving her pregnant and alone, making Mom raise me by herself-somehow I couldn’t see any of those flaws when I looked at the man under the hardhat. His eyes were as blue as Puppa’s. Same high cheekbones and rounded chin, faintly wrinkled. His eyes searched mine as if seeking acceptance. Acceptance from me. As if I might somehow hold against him all the years we’d been apart.

  I supposed I could make him pay for the sins of his youth, turn my back on him, refuse to call him father… the way Brad had made Denton pay. I would certainly have my revenge, if crushing a man’s spirit was a substitute for justice. But maybe I’d seek something better… maybe I’d decide to look more closely on the things my dad and I could share from here on out rather than the things we missed out on and could never have back.

  The other women had quieted and were simply watching us.

  I stretched out a hand toward him. “So. You’re my dad.”

  37

  My father nodded. “There’s a really good explanation for why things happened the way they did-”

  I touched my finger to his lips. “No explanations necessary. I’m guessing you did the best you could at the time. Besides,” I gestured toward Monique and Meagan, “if things had happened any other way, I would have missed out on them.” Tears started gathering in my eyes and it felt like a cork was trapped in my throat. “I’m so happy to have sisters.”

  At the other end of the plant, a tour came out of the tunnel onto the main floor. The voice of the guide echoed through the vast space.

  By now I was holding my dad’s hands.

  He squeezed my fingers. “Sometimes I look back and wish things could have been different. But then I see Suzette,” he looked at his wife with adoration, “and my girls,” his eyes swelled with tears, “and I know God worked it all out. And I knew He was watching over you. I trusted Him to keep you safe.”

  Some snotty part of me wanted to demand why he thought he could be off the hook just because he turned me over to God’s care. But I shut that old voice out, wanting to hear more of the voice that said, yes, God had taken care of me my whole life. He’d taken good care of me. Exceptional care. And when I was ready, He’d led me to this place a thousand feet below ground to meet a man I’d only dreamed about. Jacob Russo had turned out to be far better a man than I had expected. Wouldn’t Puppa be proud to know his rabble-rousing son had found a steady job and had a loving family that included three more granddaughters to disrupt the stillness of the lake house?

  Because of course they would come visit the lost branch of their family tree in Michigan. The blight brought on by Frank Majestic could be overcome. We’d simply stop giving Frank power over us. Light would conquer darkness. Right would prevail over wrong.

  The voice of the tour guide faded as she led her flock the opposite direction.

  Fingers clasped around my father’s, I swung his arms with mine in a fast, happy rhythm. “Now that we’re together, I don’t even know what to do.” I glanced around the powerhouse. A gash of rocks showed where the ceiling stopped and the walls began. “Can I hug you?”

  He nodded, a smile spreading across his face.

  I slung my arms around his neck. He bent to accommodate our bare difference in height.

  He held me tight and for a moment I could see myself as a baby, wrapped in a striped blanket, fresh from my mother’s womb, being rocked in the arms of my adoring father. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t true, that it had never really happened. It only mattered that it felt true at the moment. Jacob Russo loved me. He adored me. My heart could feed forever on the joyful vibes of the moment.

  His embrace loosened and I let g
o my hold around his neck and gave him some breathing room.

  Without letting go of his elbows, I met his eyes, forcing myself back to reality. “You know that it’s not a good thing I’m here.”

  He nodded, in sync with my meaning.

  I swallowed, reluctant to let reality settle in. “Frank Majestic’s goons followed me. I guess my whole life they’ve kept tabs on me, looking for you. And I’ve led them right to you. I don’t know what you plan to do, but you’re not safe here anymore.” I nodded at Suzette and the girls. “Neither are they. It’s only a matter of hours now before he catches up.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t have a plan. I always knew today would arrive. I’ve feared it. I’ve lost sleep over it. But running is a thing of the past. Our lives are here in Churchill Falls. We’ll just have to take this as it comes.”

  I held his hands like a child. “Maybe we could start by notifying the authorities. At least they can be on the lookout for anyone suspicious.”

  He looked to the ground. “I lied about my name, I made up my past. If someone’s coming for me, it’ll have to be Roger Jamison they’re after. That’s who I am.”

  “Go ahead and be Roger Jamison. I won’t contradict your story. Listen-” I glanced at my sisters and Suzette. The three watched us with curious faces. “I have to get going. I just wanted to warn you about what’s coming your way… and wish you and your family the best.”

  “Thank you.” He choked up. “I’m really glad to have met you, Patricia. You’re beautiful, just like your mother.”

  I nodded, tears too thick in my eyes to see anything clearly. “I love you, Dad.”

  A guttural cry came from his throat. He grabbed me in his arms again. “Let me kiss my baby once before she goes.”

  Eyes closed, I savored the feel of my father’s lips against my temple. Tears streaked down my cheeks. I opened my eyes to the view past my dad’s shoulder, catching a glimpse of a stray tourist looking our way. The guy’s hands were tucked in the pockets of a bomber jacket worn over blue jeans. Dark hair curled from beneath his white hardhat. His face seemed intent as he stared, and somewhat familiar.

  I stiffened in my dad’s hold. The last time I’d seen that man’s face, it had a purple birthmark over half of it. But even without the garish marking, there was no mistaking my classmate Simon Scroll.

  Understanding rushed over me. The birthmark had been a simple disguise that let him blend in at the college. From the menacing glare of his eyes, Simon Scroll was here to kill my dad. I realized now why I’d never trusted the guy.

  I tore loose from Dad’s grip, as if that could somehow undo the kiss that revealed his identity.

  “He’s here,” I whispered breathlessly. “You might want to change your policy.”

  My dad turned just as Simon started toward us.

  “Run!” I screamed and grabbed my half sisters by the arms.

  Suzette ran with us.

  “George!” she yelled to the man at the far wall. “Get security down here now!”

  Dad followed a few steps behind us.

  In the corner of my eye, I saw a shape leap toward my father, bringing him to the ground.

  I skidded to a halt. “Keep going,” I yelled to my sisters and Suzette.

  The girls ran toward a far doorway. I did a 180 back in my dad’s direction.

  With Jacob Russo facedown on the ground, Simon stepped on his back and cuffed him across the head.

  “Dad!”

  I plowed into Simon at full speed, knocking him to the metal floor. He grabbed me and threw me aside like a crash dummy. My skull landed against the sharp corner of a green cube. White dots arced across my vision.

  By the time I got back on my feet, my father was draped against the safety railing of a down staircase, tossed there by Simon, who was revving up for his next blow.

  I crawled toward them, reaching for Simon’s ankles, hoping for a swift takedown. But a blur of movement from across the plant reached Simon before I did. The figure collided into our attacker, pummeling him over the rail and onto the staircase below.

  “Candice!” I stared as my once-friend raced down the steps after Simon.

  My father crumpled to the floor, holding his head in his hands.

  “Dad, are you okay?” I made it to his side.

  At his nod, I poked my head through the wide rails to see the fight below. Simon had turned the tables, with Candice now the one flailing on the stairs.

  “Hang on! I’m coming!” I yanked on the rail and got back to my feet, racing to the steps.

  A couple hardhats headed across the plant floor toward the commotion. I took the stairs two at a time, descending to the level of deafening turbines. Supersized gears and gadgetry whirred as the machines generated enough power to light up North America’s eastern seaboard. The steep run ended in an eagle’s nest suspended above the panorama.

  With help from the steel toe of Simon’s work boot, Candice tottered over the platform rail, grabbing the ledge at the last moment, only to dangle above a distant floor. One less contender to worry about, Simon turned in my direction and came up the steps. I froze in panic. A single prod from his shoulder would be enough to send me flying. I gripped the rail with both hands and lashed out at his face with my foot as he came into range. But one deft hold-and-turn of my leg as he blew past left me clinging to the metal treads in pain.

  “The professor was stupid to trust you.” I lashed out with words since my body was no longer cooperating.

  “He was stupid to trust that Rigg woman.” Above me, Simon peered across the plant floor, leaving me to wonder about his words as I crept toward the dangling Candice.

  Simon must not have liked what he saw coming his way. In a few short seconds, he was back in my face, one arm wrapped around my neck in a chokehold.

  “Hostage time,” he said, his voice slithery in my ear. My heart raced. I blinked and closed my eyes even as he forced me up the staircase, a sharp object jabbing my ribs. I kept my mind on breathing, attempting to slow my metabolism down and drop my pulse to a reasonable level. Calm sea breezes and sandy beaches filled my inner vision, warding off the hostile hormones that would rob me of reason. Panic would not eclipse my memory this time. Whatever happened today, I would be a conscious witness. I would have perfect recall of every move, every decision. I would be in command of my mind and body. No paralyzing fear would overcome me today.

  Serene beaches, beautiful sunsets, soft breezes, a loving God… I forced the images into my mind as we reached the plant floor. Three men with the CF logo on navy windbreakers huddled around my father, now looking up as Simon called to him.

  “Get up, Russo. Majestic wants to kill you himself. Come quietly and I won’t kill your daughter.”

  The men helped him to his feet. He groaned and hobbled our way.

  “Stay back,” Simon said to the duo in hardhats as they surged after my father. A shot of pain in my ribs and I let out a holler. The men backed off.

  I fought panic.

  Lapping waves, pretty seashells, the cry of gulls…

  Our backs were against the wall.

  “Open it,” Simon said to my dad.

  Dad pulled open a metal door.

  We backed through and Dad closed it behind us. A few more steps and we were in some kind of tunnel. Rock walls looked patched in places, explaining why hardhats were in fashion at the plant.

  “Dad!” Monique’s voice came from farther down the tunnel. They must have entered from another door.

  “Stay back, honey,” my dad called.

  “Are you okay?” It was Suzette’s voice this time.

  Dad gave a loud exhale, his body tense as he kept up to the swiftly moving Simon. I tripped along, awkward in the stranglehold as we drew closer to the voices.

  “We’ll be alright, Suz. Get to safety, hon. This guy’s a nut.”

  “Watch your mouth, Russo.” Simon ground the sharp point of his weapon into my back.

  “Ahhh!” I screamed in p
ain.

  The tunnel angled up, making the going even more difficult as Simon dragged me by the neck.

  We came to an intersection. Simon hesitated.

  “Which way out of here?” he asked.

  My dad looked at the two possible routes, eyebrows scrunched. A sign with the words EXIT lay on the ground, pointing in the direction we had just come from. I smirked at the thought of the girls staying one step ahead of us, knocking the exit sign off its fasteners, just to make Simon’s life more miserable-and hopefully shorter.

  “The left tunnel,” my dad said after some thought.

  A flash of headlights and the sound of a vehicle came from the gloom of the left tunnel.

  “Then we’ll take a right.” By now Simon had my head tucked under his arm like a football, making it easier for both of us to move quickly.

  “You can’t get out this way,” my dad said, huffing to keep up.

  “Sure you can.”

  Simon tightened his hold and I grabbed his forearm, trying to pry it away from my esophagus.

  “I… can’t… breathe…”

  Simon laughed. “Get used to it. It’ll be a permanent condition as soon as I see daylight.” Simon slowed as the incline grew steeper. He let out a chuckle at some private thought. “You have no idea how pathetic you looked sitting up on that roof all night.”

  “You were the one who took the ladder?”

  “You were way too comfortable in Del Gloria. You needed a little fear factor, a little prodding to get you moving. I couldn’t wait forever for you to go looking for your father. The ladder, the writing on the wall… you’re pretty slow.”

  “I can see you messing with me, but Celia and Portia? They could have died in that fire.”

  “Don’t blame that fire on me. I had nothing to do with it. I wasn’t trying to kill you, just get you moving.”

  “If you didn’t start that fire… then who?”

  “Like I said, the professor shouldn’t have trusted Alexa Rigg. I did warn him.”

  “Ms. Rigg? What did she have to do with it?”

 

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