Hold Me

by Anna Zaires

  “Really?” I say silkily. “Maybe I should’ve told them the really big news.” It was what I’d originally intended—to ask if Nora had already told them about the baby—but the horrified expression on her face gave away the truth before any of her friends could speak.

  Nora reaches for my hand, her slender fingers curving around my palm. “I’m glad you didn’t.” She gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for that.”

  “Why didn’t you tell them?” I ask, placing my other palm over her small hand. “They’re your friends—I would’ve expected you to share such things with them.”

  “I’m going to tell them.” She looks uncomfortable. “Just not yet.”

  “Are you afraid they’ll judge you?” I frown at her, trying to understand. “We’re married. This is only natural. You know that, right?”

  “They will judge me, Julian.” Her soft lips twist. “I’ll be a mother at twenty. Girls my age don’t do marriage and babies. At least most that I know don’t.”

  “I see.” I study her thoughtfully. “What do they do? Parties? Clubs? Boyfriends?”

  She lowers her gaze. “I’m sure you think it’s silly.”

  It is, yet it isn’t. It still catches me off-guard sometimes, how young she is. How limited her experience has been. I can’t remember ever being that young. By the time I was twenty, I was already at the helm of my father’s organization, having seen most of the world and done things that would make hardened mobsters shudder. Youth had skipped me by, and I keep forgetting that Nora still retains some of hers.

  “Is that what you want?” I ask when she looks up at me again. “To go out? To have fun?”

  “No—I mean, that would be nice, but I know it’s not realistic.” She draws in a deep breath, her hand twitching in my grasp. “It’s fine, Julian. Really. I’m going to tell them soon. I just didn’t want our lunch today to be all about that.”

  “Okay.” Releasing her hand, I drape my arm over her shoulders and draw her closer. “Whatever you think best, my pet.”

  * * *

  To my satisfaction, the second dinner with Nora’s parents goes smoothly. Nora gives them a tour of the house while I catch up on some work, and by the time I join everyone for dinner, the Lestons seem much less tense than before.

  “Wow, look at this table,” Gabriela says when we all sit down. “Rosa, you prepared all this?”

  Rosa nods, smiling proudly. “I did. I hope you all enjoy it.”

  “I’m sure we will,” I say. The table is covered with dishes ranging from a white asparagus salad to the traditional Colombian recipe of Arroz con Pollo. “Thank you, Rosa.”

  “I’m still stuffed from that cheesecake,” Nora says, grinning, “but I’ll try to do this meal justice. Everything looks delicious.”

  As we dig into the food, the conversation revolves around Nora’s day with her friends and the latest local gossip. Apparently, one of the Leston’s divorced neighbors started dating a woman ten years his senior, while the man’s miniature Chihuahua got into an altercation with another neighbor’s Persian cat. “Can you believe it?” Tony Leston says, chuckling. “That cat outweighs the dog by a good ten pounds.”

  Nora and Rosa laugh while I observe the Lestons with bemusement. For the first time, I understand why Nora wanted to visit here so badly, what she meant when she said she needed a breather from the estate. The life Nora’s parents lead—the life she used to lead before she met me—is so different I might as well be visiting another planet.

  A planet populated by people blissfully ignorant of the realities of the world.

  “What are you doing on Saturday, honey?” Gabriela asks, smiling warmly at her daughter. “Do you already have plans?”

  Nora looks puzzled. “Saturday? No, not yet.” And then her eyes widen. “Oh, Saturday. You mean my birthday?”

  I suppress a flare of annoyance. I’d been hoping to surprise Nora again—preferably with a better outcome this time. Oh, well. Nothing to be done now. Leaning back in my chair, I say, “We do have something planned for the evening, but not during the day.”

  “Wonderful.” Nora’s mother beams at her. “Why don’t you come over for lunch then? I’ll make all of your favorite dishes.”

  Nora glances at me, and I give her a small nod. “We’d be happy to, Mom,” she says.

  Gabriela’s smile dims slightly at the “we,” so I lean forward and say to Nora, “I’m afraid I have some work to do, baby. Why don’t you spend some time with your parents by yourself?”

  “Oh, sure.” Nora blinks. “Okay.”

  Tony and Gabriela look ecstatic, and I resume eating, tuning out the rest of their conversation. As much as I dislike the idea of being away from Nora, I want her to have some tension-free time with her parents—something that can only be achieved without my presence.

  I want my pet to be happy on her birthday, no matter what it takes.

  * * *

  After the Lestons leave, Nora heads into the shower, and I pull out my phone to check my messages. To my surprise, there is an email from Lucas. It’s just one line:

  Yulia Tzakova escaped.

  Sighing, I put the phone away. I know I should be furious, but for some reason, I’m only mildly annoyed. The Russian girl won’t get far; Lucas will hunt her down and bring her back as soon as we return. For now, though, I picture his rage—the rage I can sense in the terse words of the email—and chuckle.

  If the plane crash hadn’t killed so many of my men, I’d almost feel sorry for the girl.

  Chapter 21

  Nora

  “An eye for an eye.” Majid’s eyes burn with hatred as he comes toward me, stepping over Beth’s mangled body. The blood is ankle-deep as he walks, the dark liquid sloshing around his feet in a malevolent swirl. “A life for a life.”

  “No.” I’m standing there shaking, the fear pulsing inside me in a sickening beat. “Not this. Please, not this.”

  It’s too late, though. He’s already there, pressing his knife against my stomach. Smiling cruelly, he looks behind me and says, “The head will make a nice little trophy—after I cut it up a bit, of course . . .”

  “Julian!”

  My scream echoes through the room as I jump off the bed, trembling with icy terror.

  “Baby, are you okay?” Strong arms close around me in the darkness, pulling me into a hard, warm embrace. “Shh . . .” Julian soothes as I begin to sob, clinging to him with all my strength. “Did you have another dream?”

  I manage a small nod.

  “What kind of dream, my pet?” Sitting down on the bed, Julian pulls me into his lap and strokes my hair. “The old one about me and Beth?”

  I bury my face against his neck. “Sort of,” I whisper when I can speak. “Except Majid was threatening me this time.” I swallow the bile rising in my throat. “Threatening the baby inside me.”

  I can feel Julian’s muscles tensing. “He’s dead, Nora. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  “I know.” I can’t stop crying. “Believe me, I know.”

  One of Julian’s hands moves down to my belly, warming my chilled skin. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, gently rocking me back and forth. “Everything will be okay.”

  I hold onto him tightly, trying to quiet my sobs. I want to believe him so badly. I want the last few weeks to be the norm, not the exception, in our lives.

  Shifting on Julian’s lap, I feel a growing hardness pressing into my hip, and for some reason, it eases my fear. If there’s anything I can be sure of, it’s our bodies’ desperate, burning need for one another. And suddenly, I know exactly what I need.

  “Make me forget,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. “Please, just make me forget.”

  Julian’s breathing alters, his body tensing in a different way. “Gladly,” he murmurs, turning to place me on the mattress.

  And as he drives into me, I wrap my legs around his hips, letting the power of his thrusts push the nightmare out of my mind.

&n
bsp; * * *

  I wake up late on Friday morning, my eyes gritty from my middle-of-the-night crying bout. Dragging myself out of bed, I brush my teeth and take a long, hot shower. Then, feeling infinitely better, I go back into the bedroom to get dressed.

  “How are you doing, my pet?” Julian steps into the room just as I zip up my shorts in front of the mirror. He’s already dressed, his tall, muscular frame making the dark jeans and T-shirt he’s wearing look like something out of GQ.

  “I’m fine.” Turning, I give him a sheepish smile. “I don’t know why I had that dream last night. I haven’t had one in weeks.”

  “Right.” Leaning against the wall, Julian crosses his arms and gives me a penetrating look. “Did anything happen yesterday? Anything that could’ve triggered a relapse?”

  “No,” I say quickly. The last thing I want is for Julian to think I can’t be on my own for a few hours. “Yesterday was an awesome day. I think it’s just one of those things. Maybe I ate too much at dinner or something.”

  “Uh-huh.” Julian stares at me. “Sure.”

  “I’m fine,” I repeat, turning back toward the mirror to brush my hair. “It was just a stupid dream.”

  Julian doesn’t say anything, but I know I haven’t managed to allay his concerns. All through breakfast, he watches me like a hawk, undoubtedly looking for signs of an incipient panic attack. I do my best to act normal—a task greatly helped by Rosa’s easy chatter—and when we’re done eating, I suggest we go for a walk in the park.

  “Which park?” Julian frowns.

  “Any local park,” I say. “Whichever one you think is most secure. I just want to get out of the house, get some fresh air.”

  Julian looks thoughtful for a second; then he types something on his phone. “All right,” he says. “Give my men a half hour to prepare, and we’ll head out.”

  “Will you come with us, Rosa?” I ask, not wanting to exclude my friend again, but to my surprise, she shakes her head.

  “No. I’m going to the city,” she explains. “Señor Esguerra”—she glances at Julian—“said he’s fine with that as long as I take one of the guards with me. I don’t need as much security as the two of you, so I figured I’d use the day to explore Chicago.” She pauses and gives me a concerned look. “You don’t mind, do you? Because I don’t have to go—”

  “No, no, you should definitely go. Chicago is a great city. You’ll have fun.” I give her a big smile, ignoring the sudden wash of envy. I want Rosa to have this kind of freedom; there’s no reason for her to be stuck in the suburbs.

  There’s no reason for her to be confined like me.

  * * *

  The drive to the park takes less than thirty minutes. As we approach, I realize where we’re going, and my stomach tightens.

  I know this park.

  It’s the one where I was walking with Jake the night Julian kidnapped me.

  The memories that come are sharp and vivid. In a dark flash, I relive the terror of seeing Jake unconscious on the ground and feeling the cruel prick of the needle on my skin.

  “Are you okay?” Julian asks, and I realize I must’ve gone pale. His eyebrows come together. “Nora?”

  “I’m fine.” I attempt to smile as the car comes to a stop at the curb. “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing.” His blue eyes narrow. “If you’re not feeling well, we’re going back to the house.”

  “No.” I grab the door handle and tug at it frantically. The atmosphere in the car feels heavy all of a sudden, thick with memories. “Please, I just want some fresh air.”

  “All right.” Apparently sensing my state, Julian motions to the driver, and the door locks click open. “Go ahead.”

  I scramble out of the car, the anxious feeling in my chest easing as soon as I step outside. Taking a deep breath, I turn to see Julian climb out of the car behind me, his face taut with worry.

  “Why did you choose this park?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even. “There are others in the area.”

  He looks puzzled for a second; then understanding displaces worry on his face. “Because I had already scoped out this place,” he says, stepping toward me. His hands close around my upper arms as he gazes down at me. “Is that what’s bothering you, my pet? My choice of location?”

  “Yes, somewhat.” I take another deep breath. “It brings back certain . . . memories.”

  “Ah, of course.” Julian’s eyes gleam with sudden amusement. “I guess I should’ve been more cognizant of that. This just happened to be the easiest park to secure, since I had all the schematics from before.”

  “From when you stole me.” I stare up at him. Sometimes his total lack of repentance still catches me off-guard. “You scoped out the park two years ago for my kidnapping.”

  “Yes.” His beautiful lips curl in a smile as he releases my arms and steps back. “Now, are you feeling better, or should we go back?”

  “No, let’s take a walk,” I say, determined to enjoy the day. “I’m fine now.”

  Julian takes my hand, lacing my fingers through his, and we enter the park. To my relief, in the daylight everything looks different than it did on that fateful evening, and it’s not long before the dark memories recede, retreating back to that forbidden, closed corner of my brain.

  I want to keep them there, so I focus on the bright sunlight and the warm spring breeze.

  “I love this weather,” I say to Julian as we pass by a playground. “I’m glad we came out.”

  He smiles and brings my hand up to brush a kiss across my knuckles. “Me too, baby. Me too.”

  As we walk, I see that the park is unusually busy for a Friday. There are older couples, moms and nannies with their charges, and a good number of people my age. I’m guessing they’re college students, home for the long weekend. Here and there, I also spot a few military-looking types doing their best to blend in.

  Julian’s men. They’re here to protect us, but their presence is also a stark reminder that I’m still a prisoner in a way.

  “How were you able to find me?” I ask when we sit down on a bench. I know I should stop dwelling on the past, but for some reason, I can’t stop thinking of those early days. “After our first meeting at the club, I mean?”

  Julian turns to look at me, his expression unreadable. “I sent a guard to follow you home.”

  “Oh.” So simple, yet so diabolical. “You already knew you wanted to steal me?”

  “No.” He clasps both of my hands between his palms. “I hadn’t come to that decision yet. I told myself I just wanted to know who you were, to make sure you got home safely.”

  I stare at him, both fascinated and disturbed. “So when did you decide to abduct me?”

  His eyes gleam a bright blue. “It was later, when I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I went to your graduation because I told myself you couldn’t possibly be the way I remembered you, the way you appeared in the pictures I had my guards take. I told myself that if I saw you in person again, this obsession would disappear . . . but of course it didn’t.” His lips curl with irony. “It got worse. It’s still getting worse.”

  I swallow, unable to look away from the dark intensity in his gaze. “Do you ever regret it? Taking me the way you did?”

  “Regret that you’re mine?” He lifts his eyebrows. “No, my pet. Why would I?”

  Why, indeed. I don’t know what other answer I expected. That he fell in love with me and now regrets having caused me suffering? That I came to mean so much to him that he now sees his actions as wrong?

  “No reason,” I say quietly, pulling my hands out of his grasp. “I was just wondering, that’s all.”

  His expression softens slightly. “Nora . . .”

  I lean in, but before he can continue, we’re interrupted by a burst of childish laughter. A tiny girl with blond pigtails waddles toward us, a large green ball clutched tightly in her chubby hands.

  “Catch!” she shrieks, launching the ball at Julian, and I watch in ama
zement as Julian extends his hand to the side and deftly catches the awkwardly thrown object.

  The toddler laughs in joy and waddles toward us faster, her short legs pumping as she runs. Before I can say anything, she’s already at our bench, grabbing Julian’s legs as casually as if he were a tree.

  “Hi,” she drawls, giving Julian a dimpled smile. “Can I please have my ball back?” She pronounces each word with a clarity that would do an older child proud. “I want to play more.”

  “Here you go.” Julian smiles as he hands it back to her. “You can definitely have it back.”

  “Lisette!” A harried-looking blond woman jogs up to us, her face flushed. “There you are. Don’t bother these strangers.” Grabbing the child by the arm, she gives us an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry. She ran off before I could—”

  “No worries,” I reassure her, grinning. “She’s adorable. How old is she?”

  “Two-and-a-half going on twenty,” the woman says with visible pride. “I don’t know where she gets it from; God knows her dad and I barely finished high school.”

  “I can read,” Lisette announces, staring at Julian. “What about you?”

  Julian moves off the bench and crouches down on one knee in front of the girl. “I can too,” he says gravely. “But not everybody can, so you’re definitely ahead of the game.”

  The toddler beams at him. “I can also count to a hundred.”

  “Really?” Julian cocks his head to the side. “What else can you do?”

  Seeing that we don’t mind the child’s presence, the blond woman visibly relaxes and lets go of her daughter’s arm. “She knows all the words to that Frozen song,” she says, smoothing the child’s hair. “And can actually sing along.”

  “Can you really?” Julian asks the little girl with apparent seriousness, and she enthusiastically nods before belting out the song in a high-pitched, childish voice.