“He's made himself at home.”
She said nothing and looked away from his gaze.
Flynt sighed. “Look, Zea, I wanted to apologize.”
She gave a humorless laugh. “For what? Breaking into my apartment? Or lying about it?”
“I did neither. I wanted to apologize for losing my temper earlier.”
She shook her head. “You don't have to apologize, Flynt; I'd rather just forget it and get on with my life. You shouldn't have come, is all. I don't want you here.”
“Is that it, then? It's all over, just like that? Even our friendship?”
“You have a strange view of friendship.” Zea jumped at Jared's voice behind her. He put a hand on her shoulder and moved past her, walking over to where Flynt stood. “She asked you to go.””
Flynt ignored him, looking around him to Zea, who stood, clearly worried that the two men would fight. “You let him make your decisions now?”
Zea's eyes narrowed. “I make my decisions, Flynt. That Jared is supportive of them is no concern of yours. Not anymore.” Her words made Flynt's face redden, anger flashing in his eyes.
“Supportive? Is that the word for it?” His smile was unpleasant, and Zea turned away from both of them.
“Go home, Flynt. This is not the time.”
“Flynt!' Zea whirled around and ran down the stairs just as Jared stepped closer to the visitor. Zea was at his side, pushing Flynt away from him. “That's enough. Jared, please, let me handle this.”
Jared nodded and stepped back from them. Zea made Flynt look at her, holding his head between her hands. He gazed back at her, pain and tears in his eyes. He leaned his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes and wished the past few hours away again.
Zea pulled away, and he opened his eyes. She was so beautiful, her face lit by the moonlight, her dark eyes soft and sorrowful.
“Please, Flynt, don't make this harder. It's been hell, these past months, just hell. I need to move on.”
Flynt shook his head, the tears flowing freely now, his hands gripping the back of her head, desperate to keep her close. She tried to pull away, but he would not release her.
“Listen to me … he’s no good for you,” he whispered, and she gave a little gasp of distress, yanking herself free, angry now.
She turned away from him and started to walk towards the house.
“Zea …” Flynt started after her, but Jared was there, blocking his way.
'Get out of my way, Podesta … damn, I seem to have said that a lot lately, you'd think you'd take the hint.”
Zea whirled around. “Jared is my friend, Flynt. You don't get to talk to him like that.”
Flynt recoiled at her tone, laden with dismissiveness, hurt. “I …”
“The arrogance of you.” Jared spoke up now, walking towards Flynt, a smile playing around his mouth. “You think, just because you knocked boots with Zea, you have some almighty right to tell her how to live her life?”
Zea sighed. “Just leave him, Jared.”
Inside, they heard his car start up and drive away. Zea's shoulders slumped.
“I'm sorry about that, Jared.”
He said nothing, just poured her another drink. “Here.” She threw back the shot of vodka and attempted a smile.
“We were having a good evening.”
“We still can. Don't let Newlan ruin it. He's in your past now, Zea.” This time he poured them both a drink and clinked his glass against hers. “Onwards and upwards, baby girl.”
Five minutes later, on the couch in the living room, she felt herself giving into the exhaustion she felt. Outside rain had started to fall, rattling against the windows, its rhythm soothing and soporific. Her cheek was against the soft fabric of the comforter; her legs curled up beneath her. Time slipped away from her, and the first flickers of dreams were like sparks in the darkness.
She stirred. “I'm sorry, I must have—” The words slurred and Jared smiled at her, his face soft.
“I'd better go to bed, or you'll be left with a zombie.” She got up and swayed. Jared put his arm around her.
“Let me help you.”
She had shuffled a couple of steps before the darkness came and as she passed out, she felt Jared sweep her up into his arms and carry her to her bed.
The bedroom light went on and Flynt, sodden with rain, watched as Jared walked over to the window. He paused, looking down into the woods where Flynt stood in the shadows. Jared appeared to look straight at him, a small smile on his lips. He turned his head, as if to speak to someone—to Zea then drew the drapes slowly.
Son of a bitch. Flynt got in his car and gunned the engine. Well, Jared could have her.
Flynt was done. He just hoped the pain in his heart would stop.
Zea came around just as Jared lay on top of her, pressing her legs apart. What the hell? Had she led him to this? And why did she feel so spaced out? Had he put something in her drink? It didn’t matter; she needed it to stop. Now.
“No, Jared, please, I don’t want this. Please let me go.”
He laughed. “Don’t tease me, Zea, come on now. We both want this.”
She felt him pull her legs apart, felt his penis pushing against her as he tried to enter her. Zea started to sob, panicked, bucking to get him away from her.
“No, no, please, Jared stop, stop,” her voice rose, cracked, hoarse with terror. She pushed against his chest, her tears choking her. At that moment, she didn’t care if he killed her, her need to get him away from her, to stop him, all consuming.
Then, utter, utter relief, Jared released her and sat back. She scrambled into a ball, tugging the sheet over her naked body. Her head ached, spinning fatigue. Her body ached from fighting him off, from the racking sobs which now faded away. She glanced at Jared. He sat there, naked and flaccid. His expression was shock. Not anger. Hurt. The lost little boy was back. Shame flooded through her.
“I’m sorry.” She couldn’t look at him anymore. She curled up away from him. Her head felt fuzzy again. So tired.
“I have tried and tried to make you see it,” Jared said bitterly, not moving from the bed. “You belong with your family, Zea. But no, still you want to spread your legs for the pretty rich bad-boy.”
Zea gasped at his tone; angry, raging, spiteful. She got angry and tugged the sheet over her naked body.
“Get out of my house, Jared or I’ll call the police.”
He stood up and for a second, she thought he might go but turned suddenly and grabbed her, clamping a hand over her mouth. “Well, now you’ll learn all about loyalty, you little bitch…”
Zea tried to scream as Jared covered her body with his, tried to fight him off, but he was too strong for her.
As he forced himself into her, Zea struggled against him, but as he raped her, she suddenly knew one thing for sure.
She was sure this monster couldn’t be David’s brother.
Ray pushed Emory back against the metal container. “Lovely Emory, you came back to me.”.
Emory stared at him with a mixture of disgust and terror. The muzzle of his gun was pressed into the depression of her navel, and she knew it was all over. This was how she would die.
“Just get on with it, Ray. Just do it. Just shoot me. It’ll be so good to know I never have to see your repellent face again, you piece of shit.”
Ray hissed, his spittle flicking her face and she heard him click the safety off. “Fucking little whore,” he said, pressing the gun harder into her abdomen. “I’m going to enjoy this
There was light, a loud sound, lights. Emory was discombobulated for a second. Then, as she realized they were no longer alone and that the loud noise wasn’t Ray’s gun, and that the expected bullet had never come, her heart leaped.
Rescue?
Ray laughed. “They might kill me, sweetheart, but it won’t save you.” They heard a shout and Ray’s head shot around.
Emory, taking advantage of the distraction, brought her knee up into his groin. “Fuck
you, Ray.”
He groaned and let her go, and she didn’t hesitate. She darted around him and ran towards the commotion. Ray fired the gun at her, chasing, hunting, but the bullets pinged harmlessly off the containers around her.
Almost free, she took a wrong turn and ended up at the edge of the water. She knew the bay was two-hundred-feet deep, and she wasn’t the best swimmer. Shit. She turned to backtrack, but Ray stood behind her, grinning widely. Emory could hear shouting now, people calling her name. All she could see, however, was the gun pointing at her belly and Ray’s hideously triumphant expression.
“It’s all over now, Emory,” he said softly and smiling widely, pulled the trigger …
Part #4: Jesse
They all heard it. The single gunshot. Not the fierce rattle of the weapons Maximo’s men carried. Luca howled; he knew what that gunshot was. The end of everything. The end of Emory. God. No …
“We don’t know it’s her,” Bree said, trying to get her arms around her father. Clem clung to both her daughter and Luca; Maximo had his hand on Clem’s shoulder. Maximo’s security guards’ radio crackled.
“We’ve got him, boss.”
“What about Miss Dutta?”
Clem looked at Maximo gratefully, and he gave her a half smile. The guard repeated the question into his radio.
“No sign.”
Luca moaned as Bree looked distraught. Maximo’s jaw clenched. “Is Grace alive?”
“They’re bringing him now, sir.”
Maximo and Bree shared a look. Max cut his eyes to Bree’s father; then he nodded to Bree. She understood. Keep him away from Ray Grace. As they waited for the men to bring Ray Grace to them, Clem came to stand by him.
“Thank you, Maximo. For everything, I’m sorry about…”
“Please. This is not the time to talk about us.” He had lowered his voice. “We don’t know if Emory is safe yet.”
Clem nodded, but he could see the hurt in her eyes, and he felt remorseful. When she had called and begged him for his help, he hadn’t hesitated, but the fact remained: Maximo Neri did not get too involved, even with the delectable Clementine. He’d fallen in love once before—only once—and he’d lost her the same way it looked like Luca Saffran had lost his Emory—violently. Only in Maximo’s case, it had been his brother who murdered the love of Maximo’s life.
A shout, and then they all saw the security team dragging an overweight middle-aged man with them. Maximo nodded to his own bodyguard, who stepped between Luca and Ray Grace. In the end, it took four men to hold Luca back.
“Where is she? Where’s Emory?”
Ray Grace smiled nastily. “You’ll never see her again, Saffran. She was never yours to begin with; I just took back what was mine.”
Luca spat at him. Where is she?”
“Dead,” Ray snarled at him. “I put a bullet in her gut, and now she’s sinking to the bottom of the Bay. She’s gone.”
Luca roared and leaped for him. The guards pulled him back and held him as he raged in his absolute grief. Clem was holding a hysterically sobbing Bree; her own face creased with distress. Ray Grace started laughing.
Maximo raised his hand and dealt Ray a shattering blow across the head. Ray staggered and cursed. Maximo got in his face. “Mister Saffran wants to rip you limb from limb, figlio di puttana. Shall I let him have you?”
Ray Grace quailed in the face of Maximo’s anger and the murderous rage on Luca Saffran’s face. Luca was fighting against the men holding him back. Maximo turned to him.
“Luca … I’m giving you the choice. If you want him dead, there are ways. But then he gets the easy way out. If your Emory is, as he claims, dead, he should face the full weight of the law. It will not be hard to find incontrovertible evidence of his guilt. But this stronzo might be lying. She could be out there, somewhere hiding out from him. If he did shoot her … we can call the Coastguard. But as I say, it is your right, your choice.”
Luca’s face hardened, and he calmed enough to squint at Maximo, as if seeing him properly for the first time. “Who are you?”
Maximo smiled. “I’m a friend of Clementine’s. Maximo Neri. Believe it or not, we have met before.” He held his hand out.
Luca took it, calm now, but his eyes still shone with grief, with anger. “Why are you here?”
“Clem asked me to help.”
Luca looked at his ex-wife, still shell-shocked, still holding his sobbing daughter. “You didn’t think I could handle this?”
“I was scared you couldn’t think straight with what was at risk,” she said gently, “I wanted someone clear-headed but with the same resources available. It never hurts to have friends, Luca.”
Clem flushed a little, but neither Luca or Maximo noticed. Maximo nodded his head at a groggy Ray. “If you don’t want to make up your mind tonight, we can arrange to have him held somewhere.”
Luca gave a brisk nod. “Yes. For now, I just want to find Emory.”
Maximo nodded. “I have a guy I can call. We’ll sweep the entire coast, the entire city if we have to. We’ll find your Emory.”
Flynt Newlan felt someone poking at him, and swatted the hand away, groaning.
“Get up, moron. If Dad sees you here, looking like shit, he’ll go into one of his moods.”
Flynt opened his eyes. His half-sister Hannah made an amused face at him. “To what do we owe this honor? You haven’t been home for weeks.”
Flynt sighed. Hannah obviously wasn’t going to let him sleep off his hangover. He didn’t remember driving back to the home—the mansion—that Hannah still shared with their mom and Flynt’s stepdad, Hannah’s father. Then again, he had left Zea’s place in such a rage after his argument with Zea and Podesta. Jesus. He was better off away from that whole situation.
Hannah narrowed her eyes at him. His half-sister was only five years younger than his thirty-two, but to him, she would always be his kid sister, instead of the successful P.R. maven she was becoming.
He shifted over on the couch to let her sit beside him. “What’s up, bro? You look pissed.”
“Maybe cos a brat just woke me up?”
She poked him, and he grinned. “I’m okay, Hannah banana. Just woman trouble.”
Hannah scoffed. “You?”
Flynt shrugged, and she looked at him, amazement in her eyes. “You’ve fallen for someone.”
Flynt blew out his cheeks. “Yup. Can’t lie. It’s just a damn annoyance. She is a damn annoyance.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
Flynt looked at his sister and considered. “Actually, I do.”
Hannah made her brother some eggs while he showered and then as they ate, he told her about Zea, minus the details of their physical trysts, of course. Hannah listened, sipping her black coffee, and waited until he finished.
“Huh.”
Flynt’s eyebrows shot up. “’Huh’?”
“So, she got scared and accused you of breaking in. Ever think she might be traumatized? PTSD and all that? Then you go and storm out.”
“She accused me of attacking her!” Flynt was outraged that his sister was on Zea’s side. Hannah was quiet for a long moment.
“Flynt, she’s confused, probably all over the place. The way to prove her wrong, to possibly have a future, is to be the guy who is steady, the guy she can rely on. I bet she’s sorry she accused you.”
Flynt sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s worth it. Life is so much more complicated when feelings are involved.”
“Dude, you’re thirty-two. Grow up. No one’s buying your bad-boy shtick anymore. It’s just sad.” But she said it with a smile on her face, and he couldn’t help but grin back.
“I guess you’re right. Man, when did you get to be so smart?”
“Five seconds after I was born. There I was, covered in unspeakable goo, and then pow! Brainiac. Go see your girl.”
Zea drove to the diner, barely registering where she was going. A migraine banged around her head; even the aspiri
n she’d thrown back had no effect. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, she grimaced. Her eyes were puffy, her skin wan. She looked stricken and defeated.
At the diner, she hesitated before leaving the car. So tempting to just take off, she thought, leave all this crap behind.
The night before had been the worst night of her life. Even worse than finding out her beloved David was a multiple murderer, of children, no less, and that he, too, was dead. Last night Jared Podesta had taken something from her. Something deep in her soul.
After he had finished, he’d fallen asleep on top of her, making it impossible to move. She’d tried to ease out, but Jared had kept his thick, heavy arm locked around her. On his arm now, she saw it. A fading bruise. She knew instantly where it had come from. Terror had set in then—this man beside her. She had cried herself to sleep. This morning he had gone.
She had crawled out of her bed and into the shower, scrubbing at herself before realizing she was washing away all the evidence. Not that she could have gone to the police anyway … God. Jared had known that too—reporting his crime would expose her. Bastard.
She had never felt as alone as she did that morning.
Teresa looked at Zea’s face, at her eyes, and said nothing, just hugged her. All morning, she kept glancing up, checking on Zea silently and Zea was grateful for her friend’s discretion. She pondered telling Teresa everything, just so she could talk about what had happened, but then decided against it. She found herself becoming angry at David; he was the one who had changed everything, sent her life into this tailspin. How could you have done it, David?
Much to her chagrin, she was also hoping that Flynt would come by; she wanted to apologize to him for going off on him. If she was honest, it wasn’t the only reason. Flynt Newlan had gotten under her skin and the fact that he behaved like James Dean on a good day … she felt a connection, something deeper than sex.
She asked Teresa about him, casually, or so she thought. “So, what’s Flynt Newlan’s story? I thought he was an ex-jailbird, but then he tells me he owns my building, actually the whole block.”
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