by Pegau, Cathy
Marco Delhomme. The bastard who’d said or done something to Sasha the night before. Slight discoloration to his right cheek and nose were the only signs of Sterling’s blows. He’d probably used topical endswell and hemostatic meds similar to the ones Sterling had rubbed on his knuckles last night and this morning. Delhomme would have required a good bit more medical attention, especially for his busted nose.
What had he told Christiansen about his injuries? Surely he wouldn’t have implicated Sasha in the attack, not when she hadn’t a mark on her. It was unfortunate Delhomme hadn’t frozen to death outside The Morrissey. Maybe next time.
Sterling had reread the investigation files on Christiansen after dropping Sasha off at her flat last night. The name Marco Delhomme appeared several times, always in connection with some of the drug dealer’s suspected violent crimes. Delhomme was a bad man. A very bad man.
Sterling forced a smile. “Just looking. There are a lot of pretty women here.”
Delhomme peered through the cascading water at the group Sterling had been monitoring. A lecherous grin curved his thin lips, and Sterling wanted to gut him with his bare hands. “The redhead’s definitely one of them.” He brought his attention back to Sterling. Delhomme narrowed his eyes, scanning Sterling’s face. Did he recognize him from last night? Delhomme relaxed and turned away, and Sterling knew he hadn’t. “I’d introduce you, but Guy is rather fond of that one, if you know what I mean.”
Sterling nodded, straining to not smash the glass into the other man’s face and rebreak his nose. “I do, and have no intention of treading on Mr. Christiansen’s territory.” He held out his hand. “The name’s Hollings. Nate Hollings.”
“Marco Delhomme. Guy mentioned you and Sasha would be here tonight.” They shook hands, Delhomme squeezing harder than necessary as he scanned the conservatory. “Where is she?”
“Mr. Christiansen is talking to her in his office. He seemed unhappy about something.”
Delhomme drew his hand over his mouth and down his chin, nodding sagely, but the fear in his eyes told a different story. Probably afraid Sasha would tell Christiansen what happened last night. Manhandling the boss’s ex wasn’t the smartest move to make. Sterling hoped Sasha was telling Christiansen. Delhomme deserved more than being punched in the face.
“I understand you and Sasha have a business proposition for Guy. What’s the deal?” Delhomme sipped from the stein of beer he held.
Sterling stared into the other man’s bloodshot eyes for a few seconds longer than polite. “That’s between him and me. I’m sure Mr. Christiansen will tell you if he feels like it.”
Delhomme grinned. “Smart move, Hollings. Guy appreciates folks who know when to keep their mouths shut.”
He cocked his head. “Was this some kind of test?”
“Something like that.” Delhomme gulped down his beer. “Forget the little redhead. There’s a brunette upstairs I can introduce you to.” He put his hand on Sterling’s shoulder and leaned closer. “She’s got an amazing mouth, my friend. A-fucking-mazing.”
Sterling didn’t want to be this guy’s friend, or even a vague acquaintance. Delhomme was close to Christiansen, and that could be useful, but he didn’t need the relationship that much.
“No, thanks. I told Sasha I’d wait for her here.” He started down the mosaic path toward the door, away from Kylie, but better to lose sight of her now than be seen. If Kylie recognized him before he was prepared to grab her, they’d all be on Christiansen’s shit list.
“She might be a while,” Delhomme said as he caught up, the lascivious grin still on his face. “Guy was glad she came to see him last night. Really glad.” The man’s low chuckle almost earned him a mouthful of crystal again.
Sterling’s only outward reaction was downing the rest of the vodka in one gulp. Too much interest in Sasha’s relationship with Christiansen would raise questions, so as far as everyone was concerned, they were not together. Better she was free to ease Christiansen along. Even if he’d been the one to suggest it, Sterling didn’t have to like it.
They passed more of Christiansen’s well-dressed guests on their way to the door. Sterling still didn’t know what the party was for, but he didn’t care either. Let the criminal pose as an upstanding businessman, a concerned citizen for Nevarro’s underprivileged. Law enforcement knew what he really was, even if they couldn’t take him down yet.
“Guy will probably have me handle most of the interaction with you,” Delhomme said as they passed beneath the fragrant green canopy. “I’m easy to work with if you don’t cause problems.”
Sterling shot a glance at the drug dealer’s man. “That makes two of us.”
Delhomme kept his swaggering pace as he laid a hand on Sterling’s shoulder and squeezed. “Just remember who’s in charge, Hollings. I’ll be seeing you.” He patted Sterling’s arm, like a man pats a dog he expects to be obedient, and headed down another path that cut across the room.
Damn the void. Too many people—including Delhomme and Christiansen’s security thugs—for a clean chance at Kylie. Especially if Sasha wasn’t nearby.
This was not how he’d hoped it would play out tonight. Not in the least. Heat building under his collar, Sterling set his glass down on a planter. He’d wait for Sasha in the hall, give himself a chance to shake off the sense of defeat as well as the desire to pummel Delhomme. If Christiansen didn’t bring her in the next ten minutes, Sterling was going to find them.
Chapter Seven
“Guy, you don’t have to do anything but work with Nate.” Sasha moistened her dry lips and tried to hide her trembling.
He still loved her. Damn the void, he still loved her.
“You don’t owe me anything.”
He cupped her chin and stared into her eyes. His blue irises were speckled with pale flecks that could glint like cold steel or smolder like molten silver, depending on his mood. “Let me make amends the best way I know how,” he said in a soft voice.
From any other man, the words coming with such emotion from his lips and the honesty in his eyes would have been enough to make her fall into his arms and forgive him of everything. But Guy Christiansen wasn’t like other men.
What would he do to make it up to her? To redeem himself for his neglect? Guy could be generous when he felt like it, but she didn’t want his generosity anymore. And she certainly didn’t want his love.
He leaned in to kiss her again. Sasha turned her head, offering her cheek instead of her mouth. Guy hesitated then brushed his lips against her skin. He lowered his hand.
“Don’t be like that. Please.” There was a hardness beneath the plea, like it was an afterthought. Maybe she’d pushed too far. “You can’t just walk out of my life again.”
Anger burned in her as she faced him. “I didn’t ‘walk out of your life.’ You forced me out. I was addicted to amber and stole to get a fix. Who knows how far I would have gone if I hadn’t been arrested?”
She could have ended up like Rebecca Cornish and Abby Reese. Maybe she had been lucky to get caught.
A lock of hair fell across his forehead as he shook his head. “No, you’re remembering it wrong. You left me when I told you I wasn’t going to give you any more amber and you needed to get sober. You threw a thousand-credit vase at me.” He walked over to the wall behind his desk and slapped a spot on the paneling just over his head. “Here, Sasha. It hit right here. You can still feel the dent.”
A flash of memory seared her brain like the ignition of a keracite furnace. Guy telling her he was cutting off her daily allowance. Her own crying and shaking, screaming at him until she turned and saw the cut crystal vase on a side table. Hurling it toward his head. The satisfying crash against the wall and tinkling cascade of shards, coupled with the disappointment that she’d missed. Then storming out of the office, back to her room to pack her bag and call a taxi. In her
memory, he’d let her go, had essentially thrown her out himself. But it was wrong, distorted by the drug and by the denial that she’d been that person.
“Y-you didn’t try to stop me,” she said, her voice quivering as she struggled to find some way to keep the blame on him. No, it wasn’t entirely his fault. She could admit that much to herself now.
Guy shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “No, I didn’t. I was torqued and thought it better to let you go so we could both calm down.” He shook his head, sadness in his eyes. “You didn’t come back, and I was too damn proud to go after you. I should have, but I didn’t. And I’m sorry.”
Sasha’s mind stumbled over those words, over his obvious sincerity. “After the trial, you never came to see me. Even after you had your chance to ‘calm down.’ Not a word in over four years.”
“It would have been a public admission that your leaving hurt, and I couldn’t allow that. If I had visited you or tried to get a message to you, everyone in my circle would have known at some point.”
“You’re admitting it now.”
“You came to me first.” A wry smile curved his lips. “And we’re alone. Any show of weakness in my business makes one vulnerable.”
She nodded, taking a moment to process this new information, how she could take advantage of it, of him. Because she had to use him. Because she wanted to use him and see him suffer. Even if he wasn’t completely responsible for her downfall, he was still responsible for a lot of ruined lives.
“It’ll be different this time,” he said, taking a tentative step toward her. “I swear. With this business deal, we can start over again.”
Though tempted to back away from him, Sasha held her ground and lifted her chin. “I’m not that girl anymore. I don’t want to be that girl anymore.” She shook her head. “If you expect the old Sasha to come back to you, forget it and let me go now.”
Please, oh please, let me go.
He rocked back on his heels, his gaze locked on hers. Sasha’s heart pounded in her ears. What was he thinking? What if he killed the deal with Sterling because of her rashness, her need to not be manipulated? What would Guy do to her? How would she tell Sterling she destroyed his chance to get his sister back because of her own pride? He’d hate her, and she wasn’t sure she could bear that.
After several long seconds, Guy’s features relaxed and softened as he smiled. “All right.”
She blinked at him. All right? What was all right? Was he agreeing to let her go?
“You’ve changed, Sasha,” he said. “I should have known you would. But you always had a spirited side. Still do. I like that.”
Did he know her “spirit” had almost been crushed while she was remanded and recovering? That on most days, all she’d wanted to do was curl up on her cot and die?
Something had kept her going. Maybe it was the spirit of vengeance, focused on him. Wouldn’t that be ironic?
“And?” she asked, still not sure what he was getting at.
“And I want to get to know this new you. Stick around as a sort of liaison with Nate. Work the Kettrick deal with me.” He held his hand up, palms facing her. “No pressure for us to get back together, I swear. Just business. You’ll get a bigger percentage than some finder’s fee he was offering, I can assure you. What do you say?”
His smile would have been endearing, inviting, if she hadn’t felt like spiders were crawling up her spine. The almost complete reversal of his intentions rang false to her inner warning system. Would turning him down outright threaten Sterling’s plan? After this meeting, she’d assumed she could walk away and let Sterling do the rest. Guy Christiansen never made anything in her life easy.
“I don’t know.”
He took a step toward her, still wearing his spidery smile. “I know and trust you. Until I check him out, Hollings is just some guy off the street. He could be anybody. I think your involvement would make things go much smoother. I bet Hollings would agree.”
She couldn’t risk blowing the deal with Guy, but she also had a modicum of leverage—Guy’s feelings for her. His desire to persuade her gave her more freedom in her actions than she had in the past. He wanted her as much as she needed him to work the faux Kettrick deal with Sterling. It would be a delicate balance of enticement and avoidance. Hopefully Sterling would be able to keep them both out of trouble.
“If you promise to keep business first, then I’ll do it.”
Guy’s smile altered into a shrewd grin, and her heart seemed to stop as they both realized what she’d said. “Business first. Absolutely.” He walked to the door and held it open for her. “Let’s go find Nate and celebrate.”
Sasha calmly passed him as her brain sputtered at her misstep. Business first? Guy was an opportunist who exploited every chink, every weakness to get what he wanted. First meant there could be the chance for a second. And there was no way she’d let him become that close to her again. Not for Sterling and his sister. Not even to get the damn chip deactivated.
* * *
Sterling stopped pacing outside the conservatory doors and started toward Christiansen’s office. His gait felt stiff and his hands swung at his sides like wrecking balls. Consciously making the effort to relax, to loosen his stride and uncurl his fingers, he reminded himself he knew what sort of situation Kylie had gotten herself into before ever stepping into the room. But knowing what went on in Christiansen’s house and seeing his kid sister an active participant were two different things. Two very different, very distressing things.
As he turned the corner into the foyer, Sasha and Christiansen entered from the other passage. They walked side-by-side but not touching. Not even speaking, as far as Sterling could tell. The three of them met under the floating chandelier, and Sterling took a moment to search Sasha’s face. Obviously she’d managed her time alone with Christiansen without giving away their true purpose, but the faint lines around her mouth and eyes told him it was not an easy meeting.
“Why aren’t you enjoying the party, Nate?” Christiansen asked.
“Just needed a little fresh air, is all.” He glanced at Sasha. “Everything’s fine.”
He posed it as a statement but hoped Sasha would take it for the question he intended it to be. Was she all right?
“Guy always did throw a good party,” she said with a grin that didn’t reach her eyes.
What had happened in the last ten minutes? Whatever it was, it made her look as if she was about to be sick or pass out. Strain lines drawn on her face told him she wanted to leave Christiansen’s presence as soon as humanly possible.
Kenneth silently entered the hall from a side room and opened the door. Half a dozen more people came in, greeted Christiansen and were ushered toward the conservatory.
Damn it. More people Sterling would have to avoid or go through to leave with the two women. Maybe it was better to go now and try another time.
Acknowledge, adapt and find an alternate plan.
Besides, this way he could get Sasha away from Christiansen and have her chip deactivated while he figured out how to finish what he’d set out to do.
“I’m feeling a little tired,” he said to Sasha, “but we can stay if you want to.”
Sasha’s brow creased as she took in his meaning. He was the one who needed to be here, but he knew she’d heard what he couldn’t say aloud: they wouldn’t be able to get Kylie tonight and he was changing the plan.
Her features smoothed and something akin to gratitude flashed in her eyes. “I don’t mind leaving now if you’d like.” She turned to Christiansen. “You understand, don’t you, Guy?”
Sterling blinked at her newfound confidence toward the drug dealer. What the hell had gone on between them in his absence?
Christiansen’s jaw muscles bunched as he gave her a rigid smile. “Of course.” He extended his hand to Sterling.
“I’m looking forward to a long and prosperous relationship.”
Sterling shook his hand, relieved. It looked like he’d get another shot at saving his sister from the bastard. “I’m sure we’ll both be satisfied, sir.”
“I’m sure we will.” Christiansen glanced at Sasha. He withdrew a device half the size of a data stick from his pocket and thumbed one of its two buttons. “Kenneth will bring your coats. If you’ll excuse me, I should see to my guests.” He touched Sasha lightly on the shoulder, the ruby ring on his left hand flashing an array of reds, and waited until she gave a slight nod before leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek. “Come back in a couple of days, after I’ve had a chance to look into some things, and we’ll finalize arrangements.”
“Good night, Guy,” she said without making eye contact with either of them.
Christiansen nodded once then moved past them down the hall.
“Sasha,” Sterling began, but she took his arm and drew him to the door, where Kenneth would meet them with their coats.
“Not now,” she said. “I just want to go home.” The pink tinge on her cheeks spoke of anger, not the fear or worry that had plagued her earlier.
Kenneth returned, handed Sterling his coat then helped Sasha with hers. No more than quiet words of thanks passed between them. The older man unlocked the front door to let them out.
Outside, the sharp wind whistled through the trees and sent a cloud of dry, dusty snow across the parking area. Both of them ducked their heads, shoulders hunched and collars up, and moved quickly to the ground car. Sterling tapped the remote start on the comm in his coat pocket and opened the passenger-side door. After getting Sasha settled, he rounded the car to the driver’s side.
“Just relax,” he said. “We can talk later, when you’re up to it.”
He didn’t think Christiansen had the ground car bugged, but it never hurt to be careful of audio and visual security on the property. Looking at Sasha as he maneuvered the car down the winding path toward the gate, he nearly cursed aloud. Her eyes were closed and she grimaced, as if in pain. In the dim light of the interior of the car, with her head slightly bowed, it was difficult to get a good read on what she was feeling. Reading people was part of his job, something he usually excelled at, but Sasha never made that easy.