Into the Flames (Perilous Connections: Book Two)

by Delka Beazer

  Aubrey stares wide-eyed at me for several seconds, then at Daphne and then he dashes out the room, past Elaine who is suspended in the doorway. Hopefully he at least will do my bidding.

  Elaine hesitates and my dislike for her surges to the forefront.

  “Do the same Elaine,” I order tersely, “not that you have any favorite toys beside yourself.” My brutal words bring her frightened gaze to my face and I see a flash of resentment and anger but she doesn’t speak. I am sure from where she is standing she can see Emmanuel’s bound form on the ground. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that danger has entered their home.

  Elaine shoots me a perplexed look then turns and follows her son from the room.

  “You can’t just order my family from their home” Daphne cries. “I won’t stand for it. We can call the police and have them take care of that man,” she tosses her head defiantly perhaps hoping to knock some sense into the crazy American tourist with her tremendous insight.

  I grind my teeth in frustration at her obstinacy. Anybody who had spent more than a minute alone with Emmanuel knows that he is barely human. The island’s police forces, as stellar as they may be, are no match for the wiles and financial reach of such a creature like Emmanuel.

  I’ve had enough of Daphne’s bullshit. “Are you simply being stupid,” I bark at her, she bristles, opens her mouth to refute the truth, I hold up a hand preemptively. “If I hadn’t come he would not have killed you right away, only in the end after the pain had gotten so bad that you would have gladly walked naked throughout the island, begging for me to appear to save your life, because you can bet that by that time also Aubrey and Elaine would already have been dead.”

  The final traces of color leaches from her face and I see some of the fight go out of her. She puts several more feet of distance between us, a feat in itself in her small bedroom, my lips firm into a thin line but finally she has stopped arguing and starting moving.

  She pauses before Emmanuel who is prone beneath her dresser. “Move him.”

  I obey and rather violently haul his body across the floor and bundle him into a corner.

  She yanks the dresser drawers open and begins pulling out all sorts of clothing.

  “Where are you taking us?” Her back is resolutely turned to me but I can see her expression in the mirror, I look away quickly from the sadness and fury etched in her face.

  “I don’t know yet.”

  She swings around to look at me, openmouthed.

  Shame suffuses me.

  She arches a mocking brow. “In that case, you will need this because I certainly don’t.”

  Something comes sailing through the air towards my face and I snatch it. It is the two wads of bills that I had left her in the wee hours of the morning.

  Our eyes meet and there is a triumphant gleam in hers. “You can’t buy me,” she says triumphantly.

  My entire body recoils from the loathing and mockery in her amber gaze. Old hurts and my father’s strictures about my so-called depravities come hurtling back to me, burning through my chest. I can barely breathe for the hurt that floods me. Using every bit of control that I can muster I submerge the torment eating away inside me, cock my head to the side and stretch my lips into a humorless smile. “Really? Tell that to the soreness between your thighs.”

  I ignore her outraged gasp and turn from the room, flinging over my shoulder. “Two minutes. That’s all you have to get dressed and gather some personal items. Don’t make me wait.”

  A venomous hiss reverberates against the door as I step beyond it to wait.

  Chapter Two

  Daphne

  I can’t believe that I am going along with this plan. Why have I allowed Nate to come back into my life and take it over a second time?

  Because I have no choice.

  I had a choice once but greed and stupidity has caused me to go blindly to my doom and now there is no way out for me. Even if I hate him, even if I want with every fiber of my being to forget what has just happened. I can’t. I sneak a peek at Emmanuel trussed into the corner like a sack and I remember the emptiness of his eyes as he’d stared at me and I know that I can never go back to my old life. I have thrown that away.

  I sightlessly grab things and toss them into one of my old backpacks from college, then haul on some old jeans and a faded t-shirt both too tight but as they encase my body remind me of better, happier days in college when Calculus was all I had to worry about. I rush into the bathroom and gather the necessaries from the shelves.

  Then I stick my nose into the air and march with as much bravado as I can muster into the living room. Nate is standing beside the couch, Elaine and Aubrey are huddled together on the couch. His broad back is facing me but he turns the second I pause and a gasp gets caught in my throat, I bite it back.

  His eyes are silver again, just the way they were as he towered above me, moved inside me. I blink away the image with difficulty, will my heart to stop its stupid thumping. That had meant nothing. To either of us. His eyes shine fiercely as they glare into mine. I glare right back, determined not to back down from the derision in his gaze.

  Elaine and Aubrey shift uncomfortably at the standoff between us. Nate’s hands are still empty and it strikes me for the first time that while we have packed to run off to God knows where, he doesn’t have anything besides the clothes on his back and the piles of money secreted within.

  My gaze runs over his tall muscular frame, I see the confusion in his eyes at my intent perusal, embarrassment burns in my cheeks.

  I clear my throat. “Do you want an extra change of clothing?”

  He cocks an impudent brow, “charity from you? I don’t think so.”

  My temper burst. “When are you going to stop behaving like an ass? You’ve dragged my family into your mess, put our lives in danger and you have the nerve to scoff at a change of clean clothing?”

  His lips thin. “My lack of clothing is none of your concern.”

  A gray haze overcomes my vision, the backpack slips from my shoulders with a thump. “That’s it! I won’t take another damned step until you listen to reason.”

  He turns to Elaine and Aubrey who are staring mesmerized at me. They have never seen me so bitchy before. “Wait outside” he barks to them. They scurry to obey.

  He swivels to me, the muscles bunch in his long arms, his wide chest rises and falls beneath the thin material of his t-shirt but the worst part is his eyes. They are so cold, it’s as if all the humanity has been drained from them. His gaze pins mine until I cannot look away, I gulp and lift a trembling chin in defiance.

  He advances towards me. He must be moving in slow motion because I can see every ripple of the sinews in his body as it eats away at the distance between us.

  He halts right in front of me, my forehead brushes his chest, I tip my head back and glare up into his face.

  I ignore the sudden quiver in my knees. I will not let him intimidate me with his closeness but

  every breath that I take causes my chest to brush against him, my nipples pucker at the friction and I swallow a distress breath at the bolt of sensations that are shooting through me with each breath that I take. I struggle to contain my inappropriate reaction.

  “In case you haven’t notice,” he bites out above me, “you’re not calling the shots here. You will do what I say from now on.”

  “Over my dead body, you’re not …”

  “Your husband?” he mocks.

  I press my lips together to keep from screaming at him, we glare into each other’s eyes. “That’s just a piece of paper.”

  He chuckles above me, the sound reverberates in his body and causes the harsh muscles of his chest to brush across my nose, I resist the urge to jump back, “that’s what most couples say. But here me well Daffee Blackthorne,” I bristle at the stupid nickname resurfacing again, “you are my wife in every way.”

  “No I’m not,” I whisper furiously, “I don’t care what I agreed to but I am in no way
your wife.”

  I am off my feet before I can take another breath. He has scooped me up in his arms. I twist furiously in his hold trying to evade his looming face. He tightens his long arms around my waist and I gasp. His mouth descends on mine. I squeeze my lips closed and determinedly keep my eyes open. I watch in fascinated horror as our eyes meet, his are so close, I am caught by the furor in their depth, and the … pain. This close I can see that their silver brilliance is hiding a hideous amount of fear and uncertainty. For us? Not likely. This man has never cared about anyone but himself.

  Still I cry out as his torment pours from him to me and I wriggle desperately to get out of his arms. I will not let myself feel sorry for him, the most selfish human being I have ever had the misfortune to meet.

  He grasps my face with one hand, freshly amazing me that he can hold me aloft with only the aid of one arm wrapped around my waist. He lowers his head and I open my mouth like a shark, ready to bite off his lips if he places them anywhere near mine, but the kiss on my mouth never comes. Instead, I feel a flutter of sensations across my forehead, my cheeks. I cannot help it and I inhale the unadorned maleness of his scent, it fills my lungs and an involuntary moan escapes my parted lips.

  “I want to kiss you so badly,” he whispers, a hairsbreadth from my lips. My traitorous lips burn in anticipation but he tips his head back a fraction and looks at me, his silver eyes hooded. But even so I gasp with the frightening amount of need which pulsate in their depths, his thin, soft lips quirk in a sad smile, “but you’d probably bite my lips off, wouldn’t you.”

  I swallow unable to answer. How did he know that? His gaze devours me for a few more seconds and unable to help myself I take deep draughts of his scent, my body remembers and clenches in anticipation. Shame at my shallowness immediately suffuses me, swamping my desire and I close my eyes and hang my head. Why am I such a fool over a man I’ve just met?

  I feel the ground beneath my feet and I blink my eyes open and stare confused up at him. He has already put several feet between us. The coldness is back in his eyes. “Get the clothes. We need to leave now.”

  I stumble into Elaine’s bedroom and do as he bids.

  I am walking beside Elaine and our gaze is fixed ahead on Nate who is carrying a sleeping Aubrey. It’s hard to believe but as I glance at my watch, an old relic I refuse to part with, I see that it’s only 5:15 a.m.

  With the light of dawn the dirt road with its familiar scattering of banana trees and weeds sway in the light, cool breezes that usually accompany this time of day. I have trudged this road so many times during this hour that despite my turmoil, a part of me feels peace at this most free and precious part of my day before I would head off to work. But I am not going to work today or as far as I can tell neither tomorrow. A second unexcused absence will see me swiftly terminated.

  As if reading my thoughts Elaine turns to me. “Where is your man taking us?”

  I bristle at her derogatory tone, narrow my eyes at her round chocolate colored face. To anyone outside she can appear maternal but I know the real woman and for me she has been nothing but demanding and cruel since dad passed away. Leaving me the sole burden of providing for our small family.

  “He’s not my man,” I snap.

  She opens her mouth abruptly but then perhaps seeing my murderous expression she rethinks whatever it was she was about to say. “Why then did you marry him?”

  I grit my teeth against the answer. What could I say? After these many months of chastising Elaine for greed and selfishness, my actions with Nate have made me into mini-Elaine.

  I look away into the abandoned field. “That’s none of your concern.”

  “You’re my daughter.”

  That brings my head spinning around like a poltergeist. A rush of tears fills my throat as we lock eyes. “No, I’m your stepdaughter. I have never been a daughter to you.” I am aghast that my voice wobbles but I cannot help it. The pain is too much for me to be able to continue to hide it completely.

  She probes my flaming face, the hot tears in my eyes. “That’s not fair Daphne. I tried …”

  I fling up a hand, “Don’t give me that bullshit,” her eyes bulge at my unaccustomed disrespect. I don’t think I’ve ever sworn at her before.

  Her mouth turns sour and she lapses into silence.

  Dad had married Elaine two years before Aubrey’s birth. Mom had been dead for five years before that. I had been seven at the time of their marriage, too young to remember mom, eager to love the beautiful woman in white who would be my new mother. Tears of remembrance burn my lids and I have to swallow back the huge lump in my throat.

  I stare straight ahead at Nate’s back, his effortless glide across the uneven dirt road, I’m glad that he’s not close, that Aubrey is asleep.

  I turn back to Elaine. “You have never given me a chance to be your daughter.” I am sniffling now, barely able to stop myself from crying. How can it hurt so much, even when I have known the truth for so long? I look her in the eye, “It’s too late now.”

  I start to speed up to get away from her but she matches my pace, “Daphne I’m so sorry. I didn’t … some things were different then.”

  I flinch and ignore her. Too little. Too late.

  She lapses into silence and I steal a glance at her, her face is drawn with anxiety. “Do you know where we’re going?”

  I shift uncomfortably. “No.” I throw a glance at Nate’s silently moving form ahead of us.

  Elaine exhales sharply. “I don’t know what trouble your … Nate is running from but if he wants to get off this island Montserrat may be a good place. I’ve got family there.”

  I raise skeptical brows. I don’t remember Elaine ever mentioning them before. “Isn’t that the island experiencing volcanic disturbances?”

  She chuckles dryly. “Yeah but it’s just some ash, nothing serious. And that may make it a good place to stay for a while. Not too much people in certain parts.”

  I say nothing but what she says does make sense. Montserrat, an island thirty miles away may be a good place to stay for now until I can figure out how to get away from Nate and the danger he’s placed us in.

  I speed up and come abreast with Nate. I feel him turn to glance at me but I stare straight ahead. “Where are you intending to take us?” I ask.

  He shifts the still sleeping Aubrey in his arms. “I thought the south side of the island may be a good place for another few hours. Until we can figure out how to get off of Antigua without Emmanuel knowing.”

  The south side? Antigua is not that big, only 108 square miles total. If Emmanuel had tracked Nate all the way from Sunset Cove to my house, then he could find us within half a day if we went to the south side. I study Nate’s serious, intent face, his thick eyebrows low over his pale eyes. Again fresh anger at Nate’s selfish actions poured through me. “This is all your fault. If you had stayed at Sunset Cove none of this would be happening to my family. And now you’re afraid-”

  Nate stops so suddenly, he cuts off my tirade and I have to jump back to avoid nearly bumping into him. His gaze pins me to the ground, his square face is set in furious lines. “Afraid? Yeah you could say that but my staying in Sunset Cove would not have protected you from Emmanuel.”

  “Really?” I quip letting the sarcasm drip from my voice. Who the hell did he think he was?

  “Really?” he mimic’s me perfectly, “tell me do you think the man you just met would have spared another soul if he had found me in a room with a maid? I had pegged you for a thinking person.”

  His insult stung and I open my mouth to furiously refute his hurtful words but then I thought of Emmanuel’s face, his eyes, the way he’d stalked and taunted me in my own home. There is no doubt in my mind that he would have at the very least hurt me terribly if I had been unable to tell him Nate’s whereabouts. I lift a hand to my throat. It would not have mattered that I told him the truth.

  I try to shake off the sickening sensation of so much brutality being direct
ed at me. I clear my suddenly dry throat and recall why I had caught up with Nate in the first place. “Elaine has family in Montserrat.”

  “As in the island where the Soufrière Hills Volcano is erupting?” he asks disbelievingly.

  “Exactly.” I quirk a challenging brow at him.

  He thinks about it for a few seconds his eyes narrowing. “There is a daily ferry service, correct?”

  I shouldn’t be but again I’m taken aback by how much he knows about the islands. “Yes. Tourists love nature in action.”

  He flashes a grin at me. “You mean stupid tourists don’t you?”

  I can’t help but return his grin. “Something like that. Most Caribbean folks tend to run away from volcanos and those crumbling bridges that hang over the sea but tourists seem to love the stuff even more than the local rum punch.”

  He laughs, a deep husky sound. I have to look away to hide the effect the sound has on me.

  “That does seem as good a place as any for now.”

  “And what about later?” I say between clenched teeth, my humor gone and the fear returning. “You have no right to take us with you and to put our lives in danger like this.”

  He stares at me. Even though dawn is gone and daylight has finally emerged, I can’t read a single thought in those silver eyes, his entire face is closed and I can’t peek inside. “You’re right. But that doesn’t change a thing.”

  I stutter and my mouth hangs open as I stare at him as he increases his pace and leaves me behind. No doubt deliberately.

  We have finally reached the main road which lies a quarter mile from my home. I throw a quick glance behind me and there is no Emmanuel, heaving a sigh of relief I watch as several headlights rush recklessly by us. Passenger buses. They run at all times and at all speeds. Speed limits belonged to the civilized sections of the world, not in Antigua, where all drivers determined how fast they can go.

  One minute later we cram into the first bus that stops. Curious eyes dissect our little party. I find a seat right behind Nate and Elaine. He is still cradling a sleeping Aubrey and as we speed off I give all my concentration over to staying on my seat which has no seat belt. I sternly ignore the tanned, muscled arm directly in front of me which circles Aubrey’s sleeping form.