by T. K. Toppin
“If you’re wondering what my intentions are toward John, honestly, I don’t know.” Huffing, I held my ribs protectively. “Affected, he says.” I rolled my eyes at the memory of John’s words. “Besides, I don’t even know what John’s intentions toward me are. And I’m not sure if I even like him that much—what with everything that’s happened, being his prisoner and all. Can’t you see how complicated it is?”
“Crossroads?” he offered.
“Uh?”
“Impasse? You know, you need to sort through some things before moving on. I understand.”
“Right. Something like that.” I gave Simon a careful look. For someone as brutal and abrupt, and maddeningly pleasant, he showed a very sensitive and reflective side. Aside from the fact that I knew next to nothing about Simon, not even his last name, I knew he was one of John’s most trusted and dearest friends. And from what little I did know of John, he chose his friends with care. In fact, aside from family, Simon was the only other person John spoke of with any affection.
“Wait a sec,” I remembered his earlier comment. “Someone actually married you?”
“Strange things do happen.”
“Huh.” I raised my brows, then furrowed them. “You see the thing is…I don’t even know what to move on to. Does that make sense? It’s not like I had much choice to begin with. I’ve sort of been shoved into situations. But, I do…like it here. I mean it’s not bad, you know, being in hive central of dictator-land. And what safer place to be, right?”
“But you do like him? John, that is?” The way he said it made me wonder if, if I answered wrong, he’d kill me on the spot.
“Yeah, of course.” I nodded without thinking twice. I did like John. I caught myself with a jerk, my face burned. Simon chuckled at some private joke he alone knew, which made me glower back as he turned to go. That man could make me turn on a coin from one extreme emotion to the next. He was full of tricks too, slipping in questions when I least expected them. Catching me unguarded. Oh, I could hit him—
But he was John’s friend. “Wait.” I grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving, and stared at him to align my thoughts. “You know, I never did like you. But you’re starting to grow on me.”
Simon’s face cracked open in a wide grin. He made another short chuckle and, as he walked away, called over his shoulder, “I know the feeling.”
* * *
“Tell me why you wish to speak to Wellesley?”
John stormed into my new apartment later that evening without knocking, as usual, and rounded on me as I sat on the couch inspecting a snag on my sleeve caused by the harness clasps. At least I had been given a selection of new clothes to choose from. Wearing white all the time had been getting a bit tiring. The tweed shirt hung loose, but was comfortable in my current state of mechanized restriction.
With sudden horror, I realized I wasn’t wearing any pants. I’d been finding it extremely difficult to put them on one-handed and, to be honest, just couldn’t be bothered with the effort. At least the shirt was long enough to cover me. Barely.
The look on John’s face had me scrambling to rise from my seated position, but the couch was soft and made this difficult to do. I gave up and stayed seated, tucking the shirt around me securely. Anger made his face brittle, like thin ice.
“I have to ask him some things,” I replied with care. Unable to look him in the eye, from embarrassment, I stared at my bony knees.
“You do know how this will look?” He towered over me, a scathing look on his face. “How do I explain you meeting with him, officially?”
“Explain?” Incredulous, I stared at him. My anger spiked with each pulse of my heartbeat. “I didn’t think you had to explain anything to anyone.”
He hissed out a snarl and stalked the living room. “Being World President does not mean I can just do as I please. And you can’t expect me to indulge your whims either.”
I snorted in disbelief. “You really expect me to believe that? And this is not a whim.”
He glared at me. I glared back.
With a jerk, he resumed his stalking. “You being here has already raised a few eyebrows among my ministry. How would it look if a suspected terrorist was seen in conversation with another suspected terrorist—while living under my protection! I can name a few ministry members who have gotten wind of who you allegedly are, and would like nothing more than to see you skinned alive. The only reason you’re here now is because you’ve saved my life and I’ve convinced them otherwise.”
“Is that the only reason?” I snapped.
John frowned, blinking. “My ministers need not know details. Have I not made myself clear enough of my reasons for having you here?” With a small grunt, but still obviously fuming in anger, he sat opposite me on an armchair. “Just tell me why.”
I took a breath to calm my scattered thoughts.
“Lorcan. He just wouldn’t try to kill me. I don’t care what you say, or what I may have thought before. Maybe it’s all true, about what he’s involved in. Maybe not. But I have to be sure. And I believe him, what he’s told me, about us. Him and me.” I rubbed a hand over my mouth to stop my rambling, trying to think straight. “But I have to be sure.”
“Do you love him?” He all but spat it out.
Jolted, I stared at him. John’s eyes were dark and scathing, and burned me to the bones. It was none of his business, and I was of two minds whether to answer him or not. Did I? Was I ever in love with Lorcan? I wasn’t sure any more. But maybe, if I saw him again, looked him in the eyes, I’d know for certain. And then what?
“I don’t know. Yes, maybe. I don’t know. What do you care?”
“I care.” John shot up, made as if to lunge at me, then stopped. He leaned down, arms straddling me as he rested his hands on the either side of the couch’s headrest. His face was inches from mine. In sudden fear, I gulped loud. He looked ready to gobble me up in one bite. His manner reminded me of the first time I’d met him. He was still frightening. Correction. Intimidating.
“I told you before.” He did that deathly quiet thing with his voice, clearly holding the rage within him. “You’re free to do as you please. But only by staying here can I give you my full protection. Remember that. And remember, too, after the position he has put you in, can he do the same for you?” He glowered at me a moment longer to punctuate the point, then straightened.
Enough of this shit. I sucked in a breath. I wanted to sting him with scathing words.
“Give me a reason to stay, other than your fucking protection! Don’t think I’m not grateful for everything you’ve done for me. But if it’s just your protection you think I value, then think again. I’d have better luck out on the streets. All you’ve done is scare the shit out of me. You show me concern and affection, then you turn around and burn me with accusations and threats and…and your goddamned temper! Why do you have to be so violent? Arrogantly so! If you want to hit me, then just fucking hit me! I’m a big girl, I can take it. For fuck’s sake, you’re no better than he is. Is it that hard to tell someone you care? I lived with him for months, and I just can’t ignore that we did share something. Not only did he save my life, he saved my sanity! And did it ever occur to you that I might stay? And maybe I care enough—for you—to stay without you bullying me into it. Where the fuck would I go? I have no home! I might as well throw myself off that fucking waterfall and end my miserable life.”
In my rage, I found I’d managed to stand. How I did so, I couldn’t say. In my anger, I leaned forward and jabbed a finger at him, forcing him to take a step backward.
“And so what if I love him,” I continued to yell. “He is my friend, and he’s always shown nothing but friendship toward me. I can’t just discard it because of what you say, or what’s happened. Can you not understand that? Too simple a reason for you to fucking grasp? That I’d want to ask him face to face? To see it in his eyes—hear it in his own words. To know the truth! Isn’t that what you’ve been after from day one—the tr
uth? Well, I want it, too. Is that not a fair enough reason? And as you say, I’m free to do what I please, and this is what I please. And who the hell are you to be telling me what I can or cannot do? You don’t own me. You don’t have any hold on me. And if you did, then you have a—” I gasped in pain. “A strange fucking way of showing it. To think I was actually starting to like you. What the fuck is wrong with me?”
The lancing pain stopped me. It felt as if a broken rib had unhinged from its hold and zeroed in on my lungs. Curling inward, I groaned loudly. I had more to say, yell out, stamp and kick my feet at him, but I had to stop. I wanted to tell him he owed me for saving his sorry ass, but I couldn’t. Clutching my side, I took an agonized gulp of air, wheezing in spasms.
John made as if to steady me, but stopped midway. He fisted his hand and it shook, as if conveying all his rage. Despite the pain, I gritted my teeth and faced him squarely. Daring him to hit me.
“Fine,” he said through clenched teeth, his lips non-existent. “Give me a day.” He turned to go, jerking his head back with the sort of look a parent gives you, mildly offended. “And cover yourself up.”
I looked down, with some difficulty, to find my shirt had hitched itself up and ridden up over my lily-white underwear—exposing the perfect triangle of my crotch.
“Fuck!”
Chapter 28
John glanced across at Josie. She sat moody and silent, and far enough away to make a point—if that was at all possible in the small four-seater airlift. Tiredness blanketed him. He’d not slept in twenty-four hours, and this was his second trip to Bali in less than ten hours. She refused to look at him, and he in turn refused to speak to her. Simon helpfully filled in the gaps with idle chatter.
Blast Simon, he was enjoying this. John glanced at his friend, who pointedly gazed out the window looking for all the world like the proverbial cat that ate the canary.
With difficulty, John stamped his anger down.
That…that, woman!
She agitated him so. If it weren’t for her injuries, he’d grab and shake her until her teeth fell out. Until those enchanting green eyes fell out like marbles and bounced onto the floor.
Before meeting her, he’d never questioned himself or his actions. But now he found himself doing stupid things, behaving like a befuddled ass and acting like a bull-headed elephant in the height of mating season. Especially in front of her.
Fuck—to borrow a vile expression from her.
And what did she mean, he had no hold over her? That hurt to the core. Her words left him gutted and feeling foolish. Did she mean she wanted him to have a hold on her? Was that an invitation? John shook his head to clear it. Or was that the simple truth? She’d said she cared for him, or had that been just a figure of speech? And did this also mean she did like him—before? But not anymore?
Women spoke in too many riddles! A dull throb, the beginnings of a blinding headache, pounded dead center in his brain.
John had met directly with Wellesley in the early hours of the morning. With Simon in tow, they had managed to quietly remove Wellesley from his guesthouse in Bali and place him under house arrest. But as Josie stated in her eloquence, who would question the actions of the World President, or the World President’s head of security?
As much as he loathed using underhanded actions and abusing his authority, he needed to talk to Lorcan first. Had to.
Admittedly, had circumstances been different, perhaps he and Wellesley could’ve been friends. Having met the man, John begrudgingly liked him, in that odd, wary way people did when they found themselves on opposing sides. There was the admiration and respect, and a little envy, two powerhouses usually showed when circling each other, sizing the other up.
They were still enemies, and their objectives wouldn’t change. The only thing they had in common was Josie.
Dread filled him too, that once she met with Wellesley, it would all end and she’d run back to the Brit, never to be seen again.
What had she said? Give her a reason to stay.
Josie wanted his affection, he knew that much for certain. John could tell, and the time he’d spent with her proved she wasn’t someone who threw her affections around randomly. In his experience, women were complicated creatures. There were some he feared greatly, some he dismissed without a second thought, and some he cared for. But Josie had crawled under his skin and burrowed in, digging to somewhere deep and primitive he never knew existed inside him. Standing before her, he was naked, and in turn he sometimes saw clear into her. She was adrift and craved to be grounded, stabilized and…loved. To finally belong somewhere.
Love. He could give it, so long as he knew it would be returned. He’d never been bitten before, and had no intention of being bitten for no good reason. His cautious nature and shrewd mind had saved him a few times in the past where some of the women only wanted the social position he could offer them, nothing more. But from the moment he first saw Josie, he’d known she was different. Treading with care might save his life and heart, but too much care and he might just end up making a bigger ass of himself. And lose her for good.
She certainly did affect him. Love, yes. He did feel that. Very badly.
But to give it, he had to be sure. If it meant he might lose her in order to find out the truth about her feelings toward him, then he’d do so. It would be painful, but he’d do it. Would he recover if he lost her?
No. Nothing would ever be the same again.
John rubbed a hand over his face to cover the red flush of embarrassment he knew peppered it like a rash. Love was making him act like a fool, like a bull-headed elephant in the height of mating season!
Chapter 29
A cold, impassive wave washed over me as Lorcan Wellesley gasped as if his heart had been yanked out and thrown unmercifully at his feet. He stared at me like I was an apparition. With a slow, deliberate drag of his eyes, he took in my appearance, parting his mouth crookedly in shock. His stare trailed over my arm slung over my chest, the hard jut of the brace and how much of my body it encompassed.
Lorcan made a choking noise, like a sob caught in his throat. His face twisted. “You’re…alive.”
Choosing to remain expressionless, I resisted the urge to jump into his arms and demand he take me away from all this madness. I bravely studied him, hoping my eyes were cold and hard.
Earlier, my thoughts had been on John; he steadied me like a drug, and I couldn’t understand why. I’d told myself during the shuttle flight over that I needed to focus on what I was going to say to Lorcan, on his manner and reactions, study him to make sure he spoke the truth. Instead, like a boomerang, my mind had wandered countless times to John. His presence in the small shuttle was suffocating. I almost felt the violent electrical current leaping arcs from his body, zapping me into calmness and, sometimes, confusion. John steadied my mind enough so I could forge ahead instead of panicking and abandoning the meeting altogether. I knew I needed to do this.
We were in a small clearing of a bamboo forest, far away and remote enough to ensure we were alone and undisturbed. The area was a known nature reserve and hiker’s paradise, riddled with helpful signs and roped pathways that veered off to parts unknown. John and Simon stood sentry a distance away beside a wooden information kiosk. Though far, it wasn’t far enough away that they were out of earshot, and if needed, they could sprint quickly to my aid. It was under these circumstances, and these alone, that I was allowed to meet with Lorcan.
“Of course I’m alive. Did you expect me dead?” Good. My voice held some frost. At least it matched what I hoped shot out my eyes. “Tell me everything.”
My heart beat like mad, ribs aching in protest with each thud. Holding my free left hand close to my body so it wouldn’t shake with nerves, I dreaded hearing his answer.
“Josie…” Lorcan reached out to touch my arm. I flung it away.
“Don’t touch me,” I snapped. “Answer me! Did you try to kill me?”
From the shadows, John and S
imon halted. Their attention was glued to me, bodies stiff with readiness.
“No. I did not.” Recovering slowly from the shock, Lorcan held my accusatory glare. The beginnings of insult twisted his face. “I would never do that to you. But I know who did.”
“Who, then?” My heart eased a notch. I knew it! He wouldn’t hurt me. He just wouldn’t.
“Josie, wait.” Lorcan’s ruddy face animated with concern. “You have to know, I’ve been mad with worry. My life’s in danger, just as yours is. I’ll tell you everything you need to know—everything. I want to help and make things right, for you.”
He started from the very beginning, even the bits I already knew, about his mother, his hate for the Lancasters. And then he told me things I didn’t know: how he’d remained close with his mercenary friends, and how he’d planned and staged numerous disturbances and thefts, spread propaganda to the media, all hoping it would lead to enough talk and suspicion to prompt investigations into the credibility and abilities of the Lancaster government. He admitted to being obsessed and, yes, wanting to see Lancaster dead, but that was only a wild fantasy. But now, he was starting to see things clearly, to see that it was all a mistake.
He’d attracted the attentions of a few undesirables, mainly the members of a group calling themselves The Path. At the time, he didn’t know who they were. They’d infiltrated his small group and even started to fund projects. They had lured him into their network. At first, he’d resisted, but his obsession weakened him, so he fell in like a good soldier.
Lorcan hadn’t suspected Gianni and, if he had, would never have brought her into his home or anywhere near me, let alone allow her to take me into the city. When he heard about the bombing in London, he said he thought someone had lanced him in the heart with a shard of glass. The police had questioned him, but he couldn’t say anything. If he did, he’d be dead. The Path were deadly in their vengeance, and didn’t tolerate betrayal. Michael Ho had told him so, just before he was taken to Switzerland. He had tried to get me released, but what could he do without further incriminating himself and exposing everything else? He would have further endangered me and my secret past would have come out. I was safer where I was.