Denial (Careless Whispers #1)

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Denial (Careless Whispers #1) Page 17

by Lisa Renee Jones


  “Out.”

  I grab him and he slaps me so hard I fall to the floor, my hand going to my burning cheek. The door slams, and I push through the pain and to my feet. I rush to the hallway just as the elevator shuts and go back into the room, leaning on the door and yanking off the necklace he’d given me. It lands at my feet and I stare down at it. A butterfly with blue stones and a ruby in the center.

  I grab the journal and write: Deceit. Danger. A secret.

  “Here you go,” Marabella announces, setting a plate in front of me.

  Mentally shaking myself back into the present, I shut the journal. “Thank you. I can’t wait to try it.”

  She sits down and studies me. “You look tired, sweetie. Did the commotion wake you up last night?”

  I hesitate, pretty sure she knows I wouldn’t have known about the alarm if I wasn’t with Kayden. “I heard something about it. It was Giada, right?”

  “Yes. She’s a troubled girl. She’s horribly angry at Kayden, when he’s done nothing but help her. She’s missing a female role model and I’m just too old to connect with her. I was hoping you might try?”

  I’m shocked at this request, since I am as new to the castle as I am to their lives, and will easily be gone before I’ve ever become settled—which tells me she must be desperate to help Giada. “Of course I will. How is she today?”

  Disapproval etches her brow. “Hungover. She was throwing up at the doorstep last night. She couldn’t remember the passcode to our tower, but she’s known it for years. Or rather, she claimed it didn’t work. When she finally stopped throwing a fit, she was embarrassed and crying. Poor child is just lost.”

  “I guess she’s in bed today?”

  “Adriel made her get up and work in the store. Maybe you could stop by and visit with her.”

  “Of course. I’ll be happy to. I can stop by the store after I eat and meet her.”

  “Well, today might be bad. She’s pretty foul.”

  I laugh. “You should see me when I have PMS.”

  She chuckles. “Warning noted.”

  “You’ll be glad I remember that about myself.”

  We share a laugh and she glances at a square, black-rimmed clock on the wall. “Oh, goodness. I’m sorry, but I have to head out to an appointment. I’ll check on you this afternoon. But before I leave, Kayden left something for you.”

  A mix of curiosity and more than a little anxiety rushes through me. What could he have left me? She pushes to her feet and walks to the cabinet by the sink, returning with a box she sets on the table. “Here you go.” She glances at my plate. “I’m keeping you from eating.”

  “No. You’re the reason I get to eat such great food.”

  “My pleasure.” She hesitates. “I think it will be good for Giada to have you here, but it’s even better for Kayden. I’ve been worried about him since …” She waves it off. “It’s been a long time since any one woman has held his attention.”

  This news both pleases me and confirms my worries: I’ve torn down walls he simply doesn’t want down. I downplay her observation. “I was mugged and left with no resources. He kind of inherited me.”

  Her lips curve. “Oh now, missy. Don’t discount what’s happening between you two. Kayden would have found another way of helping you if he didn’t want you here, and I see how he looks at you. I’ll see you soon.” She breezes out of the room, and I am left thinking of my exchange with Kayden. Do you want me here? I’d asked, and his reply had been, Too much.

  I shove aside my plate and grab the brown box Kayden has left for me. Flipping open the lid, I find a separate white box with an Apple logo on top, plus a note:

  I asked for bubble proof but they tell me that feature is still in development.

  I laugh and keep reading.

  You’ll find the following numbers programmed into the phone:

  Me

  Matteo

  Nathan

  Marabella

  Adriel

  These people are my people, so now they’re yours.

  —Kayden

  My chest tightens on that last phrase, which implies I’m staying in his life. Considering I’m running for my life, which makes a person think about her end of days, he’s given me all the encouragement I need. I open the box and remove the phone, quickly finding Kayden’s number and punching the “call” button. He answers on the second ring.

  “Ella?”

  His voice does funny things to my stomach. “Hi,” I say, sounding a bit breathless.

  “Is something wrong?”

  I feel like we’re replaying the conversation from outside his bedroom last night. “No. I just … When are you coming back?”

  “Why?”

  “Because … the David thing. He didn’t mean anything to me. I don’t know why I was with him, but I think … I was lost, and I feel found with you. I know that’s crazy, because we just met—but you said ‘everything or nothing,’ and we are not nothing. But we can’t get to everything if you shut me out.”

  Silence crackles on the line. I wait. And wait. And I’m going crazy when he finally says, “There are things about me you don’t know.”

  “You said that already, and there are things about me we both don’t know. What I do know, though, is that I need you, and I’m not alone in this feeling. I know I’m not.”

  “Ella—”

  “Please don’t shut me out.”

  “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  I do not miss the way he phrases this sentence to avoid the word home, when he’s lived here since he was ten. “Okay,” I whisper, feeling defeated.

  His voice softens. “We’ll talk when I get there.”

  “Okay,” I say again.

  “Ella. Sweetheart.”

  “Just come back.” I end the call before he can say something else I don’t want to hear.

  Everything or nothing. I don’t think I can do in between. I need to get my memory back. That’s all there is to it. I reach for the journal and my hand shakes, partly from hunger, and partly from the emotional toll that is Kayden Wilkens. I pull my sandwich forward and start eating, opening the folder and studying the new me who has replaced the old me. An hour later, I’ve eaten every bite of my wonderful sandwich, Kayden hasn’t returned, and I’ve spent way too much time drawing butterflies. And I’ve read my file at least ten times and just can’t do it again. I place my plate in the sink and leave the folder, box, and journal on the table, and decide to do as promised and try to make friends with Giada.

  I stick the phone in my back pocket and make my way to the stairwell, eager to see this store filled with collectibles. A little history that’s not my own will be welcome right about now. I take the winding staircase to the main foyer, peeking into the room to the left, thrilled to discover a giant library with overstuffed chairs, a desk, a fireplace, and walls and walls of books. This will be my next stop.

  I punch the button to open the dungeon door to the main room, reminding myself there is a code to reenter that I thankfully remember. Once I’m in the main foyer, I glance up at the ceilings, the trim wrapped in roses, and again, there is a stirring of something familiar that I can’t quite remember. I let it go and face the fact that I’m stalling, not exactly eager to face Adriel, admitting to myself that I am afraid he will stir some memory I don’t want to exist.

  Frustrated at the idea, I hurry up the center stairs, a red-and-cream-colored rug beneath my feet and thick, shiny wooden railings at my sides, greeting the next level by another tower dungeon door. I glance left and right to find a stairwell on either side. Had Kayden said the store was street level? That’s the logical place, so I decide the door is the right choice. Noting a button to the left, I press it. The heavy wooden surface lifts rather quickly and I enter what resembles the corner of a museum, complete with two huge white pillars on either side of the room, shelves filled with books on the walls, and glass cases here and there. It’s an intriguing place that begs to be explored.
>
  I walk forward, noting rooms to the left and right framed by beautiful arches, etched in more roses, and I don’t know why roses stand out to me, even call to me, but never fully evolve into a memory. Shaking off the thought, I continue, reaching the front of the store to find an inviting sitting area with high-backed brown chairs facing the public entrance, framed by bookshelves and decorated with stone tables a shade darker than the floors. To my right is a glass counter containing statues, and behind it is a doorway, voices lifting from inside. A male and a female are arguing in Italian, and I feel more than a tad awkward. I can’t speak Italian, but they might not know that and it feels like I’m eavesdropping. Part of me wants to leave. Another just wants this first meeting with Adriel to be over.

  I inhale and make my decision. I’m here. I’m doing this. I call out, “Hello!”

  Their conversation stops abruptly. I wait. And wait, worried about the first moment Adriel appears until finally it happens. He appears in the archway of the door, his features hard, even sharp, his black hair thick and curly, his deep green eyes fixed on me. He also has a long scar down his cheek that I have a bad feeling came from treasure hunting, and a picture is forming. People die and get hurt when they work for The Underground. Kayden could die or get hurt, and this realization is not a good one. I’m falling for him, and I fear that is a dangerous proposition in ways I have yet to fully understand.

  “Ella,” he says in greeting, his jaw clenched hard, his navy collared shirt and dark jeans framing a large and muscular body. “Does Kayden know you’re here?”

  I wait a moment to reply, and this time the blank space in my mind is pure bliss. I don’t know him, and I bite back a joyful smile he won’t understand. “Of course Kayden knows I’m here,” I reply, only to receive a skeptical arched brow, and I quickly amend with, “I mean, not exactly. I’m in the castle, so it’s logical I’d end up here.”

  “I doubt he’d agree,” he says, his tone downright cynical.

  Puzzled, I open my mouth to dig for more information when a brunette with olive skin appears beside him, managing to look quite pretty in an emerald silk top and jeans despite the dark circles under her eyes. “Kayden hates this tower,” she informs me.

  “Giada,” Adriel snaps in warning.

  She grimaces. “Right. Keep my mouth shut. Anything else you want, ‘master’?” She glances at me. “You must be Ella. What was it like being mugged?”

  The random, out-of-the-blue question has me blanching. Adriel gives me a warning look that I read as “step cautiously,” though I’m not quite sure why. She’s his family. “Scary,” I reply, “and it came with a bonus headache.”

  “I bet it’s not as bad as mine.”

  “A different kind of headache. Neither is fun. Hopefully yours came with some fun in advance.”

  “Don’t encourage her,” Adriel snaps. “She could have ended up mugged like you did.” He cuts her a warning look. “Or raped.”

  She glowers at him. “Shut up, Adriel. I’m not doing anything you didn’t do.” She rounds the counter and walks away.

  I close the distance between myself and Adriel, stopping at the opposite side of the glass from him. “Sorry,” I say softly. “I think I made that worse.”

  “Most things do.” He lowers his voice. “She has a big mouth and we all want to stay alive. Your story to her is the same as your story to Gallo, which means amnesia right now. Understand?”

  “Yes. Of course. And Marabella? Is it okay to speak honestly around her?”

  “Yes. You can tell her anything. Same thing applies to Nathan and Matteo. Just not Giada.” He gives me a probing stare. “Any improvement in your memory?”

  There is no concern in his voice or his eyes, just an obvious disapproval that hits like a slap. He doesn’t want me here. I don’t know why, but considering the death of his father, I would guess he thinks I’m dangerous. Like I thought last night, when that alarm went off. I am dangerous. And selfish for being here. “I should go,” I say, and when I would move away, he shocks me by covering my hand and holding it on the counter.

  “What just happened?” he demands softly.

  “You don’t want me here. I don’t blame you.”

  “Did we have a conversation I wasn’t a part of?”

  “You didn’t require words to get your point across. So I repeat. You don’t want me here.”

  “I don’t want you dead, either. And without us, you would be.”

  Either. That’s the word I latch onto. “But I bring Niccolo to your doorstep. I get it.” I glance at my hand, then back at him. “Please let me go.”

  “Don’t tell Kayden I made you feel unwelcome.”

  Not don’t go, but don’t tell. “If you hide it from him as well as you did from me, I’m certain he already knows.”

  The door to my left chimes and opens. Adriel releases my hand and curses under his breath. I rotate quickly and my heart falls at my feet.

  Detective Gallo is standing inside the shop.

  fifteen

  He’s dressed in a gray suit with a blue tie, both a bit rumpled like his dark brown hair. While I’m certain his gritty, rough-edged good looks appeal to many women, I’m not one of them. All I see is anger, and too much trouble to feel safe.

  “There you are, bella,” he says, his gray eyes lighting on me. “I was surprised you left the hospital without telling me, but I’m even more surprised to find you here, after Kayden told me you took off on your own.”

  Though I wasn’t prepared for this meeting, I somehow pull a rabbit from a hat for an answer. “I saw the hospital bill, and I didn’t want to add a heart attack to my concussion. I was going to call you Monday.”

  “Today is Monday.”

  I laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound as fake as it feels. “I still have a concussion. I thought it was Sunday—but I’ve slept the past two days away.”

  “I got the impression you left in a hurry and were worried about something.”

  I stick to my story, hoping it matches what Kayden has told him. “As I said, it was the bill. I thought if I tricked Kayden into thinking I left, he’d leave. It was a silly, concussion-induced idea, and that’s really quite embarrassing.”

  He arches a cynical brow, and who can blame him? It’s a ridiculous story. “You must be feeling better to be up and about.”

  Adriel steps to my side. “She remembered part of her name,” he interjects, clearly not wanting me to say more. “We’re hoping the rest comes soon.”

  Gallo arches a brow my direction. “Really?”

  “Yes,” I agree, following the lead Adriel has given me. “My name is Eleana. Actually Rae, but I go by my middle name, Eleana.”

  “Eleana,” Gallo repeats. “Beautiful name.” He couldn’t be less sincere. He glances at Adriel. “Eleana and I would like a few minutes to chat alone.” He cuts me another look. “If that’s okay with you?”

  The many ways this could go wrong has me regretting my trip to the center tower. “Of course.”

  Gallo eyes Adriel. “Is there a private place we can chat?”

  Adriel motions to the sitting area. “It’s all yours,” he offers, but he doesn’t move.

  Gallo doesn’t look pleased but waves me toward the sofa. I head in that direction when I hear Giada say, “Detective Gallo,” and I turn to find her standing in front of him, looking rather smitten as they have an exchange in Italian. I glance at Adriel. My stomach sinks to the floor with the certainty there is trouble brewing, and I quickly attempt to avert it.

  “Detective,” I interrupt, thankful to easily draw his attention my way, “Kayden and I have dinner plans tonight, and I need to rest beforehand. So if we could chat now?”

  He glances in my direction, his expression impassive. “Of course.” He eyes Giada and wraps up their conversation with softly spoken Italian, his tone bordering on intimate.

  Adriel gives Giada no time to respond, snapping out an angry-sounding reply. Giada visibly pales and whirls on her broth
er, glaring at him before rushing away, while Adriel fixes Gallo in a cutting look. “Make this meeting with Eleana fast,” he clips, giving us his back as he rounds the counter and disappears into his office, leaving the door open.

  Gallo sighs and scrubs the one-day stubble on his jaw. “I’m not making any friends here, but I care about protecting people, not becoming buddies with people.” He motions toward the couch. “Shall we?”

  Remembering how shredded Kayden was last night, I’m reminded that this man’s motives are not wholly pure. I nod, and claim a chair by the sofa. “Why were you here at three in the morning?” I ask as he sits down on the stone table in front of me, rather than on the sofa. Too close for comfort, considering I can see the blue flecks in his gray eyes.

  “I was worried about you. And I couldn’t miss Giada at the doorstep in need of help.”

  In other words, he’s watching the castle, and probably chose this time to visit because he knows Kayden’s not here. He reaches in his pocket and produces a small plastic box. “Fingerprint kit. Let’s get these done, and then we’ll chat.”

  His push to go right to the prints has me thinking again that he’s either suspicious of me, or working for Niccolo and trying to prove I’m Ella. Whatever the case, it hits me that by denying my returned memory, I’ve given him the ticket to set me free, thanks to Matteo’s handiwork.

  “Thank you,” I say as he opens the box and removes an ink pad. “I’m eager to have my identity back.”

  “Exactly why I can’t quite get my head around you leaving the hospital like you did.”

  “Concussions don’t make for logical thinking,” I say. “I felt claustrophobic and embarrassed about the bills that were piling up. Thankfully, Kayden found me and I slept off the insanity.”

  “Let’s get this done and we’ll delve into the many shades of Kayden Wilkens.” He holds the ink pad out to me. “Press your fingers on top.”

  I do as he instructs and then push down on a hard card he holds out to me. “That’s it,” he says, offering me a tissue, which I accept. “We’ll have the results later today.”

  “That fast? Wonderful.”

  He sticks the kit back in his pocket and gives me a steady inspection. “Look, Eleana. I know this castle and Kayden’s money are alluring, even a fantasy, but you don’t know him. Jumping into a relationship with a stranger, while you have amnesia, in a strange country, could be dangerous.”

 

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