by J. Saman
Maddox disconnects the call. He doesn’t even wait for my answer. When I look down at Fiona, she’s watching me with an indiscernible expression. I realize she probably just overheard everything Maddox said. And I realize there is something behind her eyes I don’t understand. Something deliberate. Something hidden. Something that is so unlike the Fiona I know. “Do you know about this?”
She nods her head. That’s it. A fucking nod.
“Is that why you’re trying to run again?”
Another nod, but this time, her eyes shift. I feel like someone just shut off all the lights in a store full of glass and my eyes haven’t adjusted to the darkness yet. I can’t see anything that is going on around me, but I know what’s there, and one wrong move will bring everything crashing down on me. Whatever this is, it’s about take me out at the knees and I’m three steps behind.
“I know a lot more than I should. He’s coming for me, Jake, and filing for divorce is not going stop him. Divorce is not an option for him. He’ll kill me long before I get there.”
I wrap her up in my arms and I kiss her. My tongue slides into her mouth, tasting her before I force myself back. I cup her face as I stare into her green eyes. “I know my world starts and stops with you. Your face is the first I see in the morning before I’ve even opened my eyes and the last I see before I fall asleep. And not because you’re beautiful, but because you’re all I want to see. All I’ll ever want. I love you, Fiona.” I brush my thumb along the crest of her cheek. “So goddamn much that the thought of you leaving, of me not seeing you again, rips a hole through me that could never hope to close. I know you think you’re broken. I know you think you’re damaged beyond repair and that being with you is dangerous. But I don’t see any of that when I look at you. When I look at you, I see your resilience, your strength, your kind heart and your amazing smile that lights me up. That sets me on fire.” I rub my nose against hers. “You set me on fire, Fiona. Stay. Don’t run,” I plead. “Be with me. I swear, I’ll always keep you safe. But more importantly, I’ll make you feel safe.”
Fiona lets out a whimpered sob, tears running down her face as she stares up at me. Her lips pull up into an all-encompassing beaming smile. “I already told you, I’m yours.”
I smile, brushing my nose against hers again, my eyes closing.
Then she whispers, “I’ll stay, Jake. For you. For us. I’ll readjust the plan. I don’t think I can leave you. Come find me when you finish up.” She places a soft kiss on my lips. “I love you, too, by the way. So much. I will love you till my heart stops beating.”
Till her heart stops beating. I can only hope that wasn’t a threat of things to come.
I press my lips to hers again, lifting her in the air and not giving a damn that we’re in a busy hotel. My busy hotel. “I have to go, but I’ll be back. You know my code, so just go up and wait for me.”
“I will. Be safe.”
“You too.” But as I say that, I wonder if we’ll be able to keep that promise.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I press the button for the elevator, staring at Jake as he walks away. Shoulders raised, head held high, steps bursting with confident determination. The perfect package. The perfect man.
And he loves me. Jake loves me. This day, I swear. It almost makes me want to laugh. Almost.
The doors slide open, and I step backwards into the elevator car, my focus fixed on the casino floor beyond. On Jake who is no longer visible. I punch in the code for Jake’s apartment, the elevator doors slowly closing, locking me in the car and shooting me up fifty stories. My stomach dips at the rapid ascent, my thoughts scattered and my mind chaotic. Gavin has a plan, but I can’t leave now. I told Jake I’d stay. That I was his and I meant it.
I need to tell him.
The elevator dings, announcing my arrival and the doors open once again. I step out, pivot to face his spacious, sunny living room, and close my eyes when a hand covers mine, yanking it behind my back and pinning it against my spine at the breaking point. Another hand firmly covers my mouth.
I try to scream, but any sound that manages to pass my vocal cords is completely muffled by the pressure of his hand. I know this hand. I know the smooth texture of the fingers. I know it’s size and the spicy scent of its skin. I hate these hands more than anything in the whole world.
“Fiona, sweetheart, I’m so happy to see you.” His voice is light, casual, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like I haven’t been hiding from him for more than a month.
I swallow down the bile that’s rising up my throat, threatening to choke me. I swallow down my fear and try my best to steady my heart rate. I know what I can’t do and that’s panic. If I panic, I die. My eyes close and air passes slowly through my nostrils. I can do this. I reach my free hand up and take his hand away from my mouth. He doesn’t fight me on this, yet.
Niklas Vaughn, the devil in my nightmares, is in Jake’s apartment.
I was never supposed to see you again.
“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He takes the hand he has in his firm grasp and spins me around to face him.
I blink at him, stunned stupid. And my heart? Well, I didn’t know a heart could beat like this without a person dying on the spot. My skin crackles with anticipation. My system overloaded with adrenaline.
Slow down.
Breathe.
Don’t panic.
“I have to admit,” he continues with that smooth voice of his wrapped in a faint German accent. “This is not how I expected to find you. And using the name Mia Jones? Really? It’s almost like you’re trying to evade your husband.” He chuckles at this. Like it’s all just a big, fat joke. Ha. Ha. I don’t laugh, but mostly because I think I’ve forgotten how to breathe or think or speak. “I still can’t fathom how you made it this far in the gardener’s car. Especially when we have so many at our disposal.”
“I didn’t have a lot of time to plan before I left,” I respond without thinking my answer through, my voice stronger than I would have imagined. It hardly registers the fact I’m about to pass out on Jake’s beautiful hardwoods. “How did you find me?”
He chuckles, the sound like warm butterscotch. But it’s mirthless. Sardonic. Like he’s the lion and I’m the tiny field mouse he’s playing with. “Did you really believe I wouldn’t have people out to find you? That I would let you get away?”
I shake my head. I didn’t. I knew this moment was coming. I didn’t need Brent—whose real name is Gavin—to confirm that for me this morning. I saw him coming after me the moment I left. I saw it the way people see the oncoming car seconds before it crashes into them, helpless to do anything to stop it.
“I don’t like your new name, I have to say. Though, of course, I always loved your name as Fiona Foss-Vaughn.”
“How did you find me?” I demand again, needing to know. It wasn’t from Gavin, unless he set me up.
His eyes darken, and I realize my mistake instantly. He pushes me back toward the living room without allowing me to turn around and get my bearings. He just pushes me hard and fast, his hand still clamped around mine, my feet stumbling back blindly as I go. Niklas shoves me down onto a chair and I brace for impact, stunned when he doesn’t follow that move up with a punch to the face.
He is tall, muscular, and rigid. Fists clenched, jaw tight, left eye twitching though his gaze is nothing if not controlled. He’s ready. Poised. He raises his hand, and instinctively, I shut my eyes in anticipation of the blow that never comes. Heavy hot air gusts out of his mouth instead and I open my eyes to find him running his hand through his fair hair and pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to stave off a headache.
“How did I find you?” he barks, his darkened eyes wildly scanning the apartment around us. Jake’s apartment. My lover’s apartment. “My schönes mädchen, the truth of the matter is, if you want something done properly, do it yourself. It took a while, but it wasn’t impossible, Fiona,” he emphasizes my name like a reminder. Like a warn
ing. “The people I hired were…ineffective at locating you. One believed you were in Los Angeles, but I knew better. You’ve always hated L.A.”
I nod. “Yes. You know me so well.”
He smiles, and I return it. I smile big and bright. Why, you may ask? To keep Niklas calm. He likes me sweet. Docile. Totally subservient. But most importantly, he likes me when I stroke his massive ego while openly adoring him. The calmer he is, not only am I safer, but the more inclined he is to lower his guard. It makes him vulnerable, not me.
Niklas bends down, effortlessly scooping me up into his arms and cradling me against his chest. I freeze, my body wooden, my natural reaction to his touch, but I don’t fight him. “Sit with me, my love.”
Niklas kisses my forehead, setting me down in the middle of the long, comfortable, leather sofa. Then he sits on the far end. I stare at him, and he pats his thigh for me to come to him. I know this game. This is where I come to heel. And like the good little trained puppy I am, I immediately oblige, crawling on all fours for him until I’m settled into his side. Hating myself for giving him what he’s after.
“Good girl,” he purrs, only now I don’t feel the same rush of pleasure those words used to give me. Instead, they make me sick. He buries his nose in my hair and inhales deeply, sending icicles up my spine and down my arms. “Much better.” He kisses the side of my head. “I’ve missed you so much.”
I close my eyes and let out a shaky breath. I cannot remember a time he was this tender with me. When he called me his love or said he missed me. Instead of softening me to him, it fills me fury, fueling my hate. Fucking bastard with his mind games.
“I know why you left.” I don’t respond. “I deserved it.” That catches my attention and I shift on the sofa to face him. The devil with the face of an angel. Blond hair. Piercing blue eyes. His hair is the same light blond, but it’s longer now. It curls on the ends close to the collar of his shirt and hangs over his forehead. His eyes are still the same piercing blue. Clean, angled jaw and perfect white teeth when he smiles. I hate those eyes. I hate his mouth, maybe more than his eyes.
He looks the same, but different, and I can’t quite place the change.
I’d love to say I don’t feel anything for him. That my hate far outweighs any other emotion. But I’d be lying. We had good moments, light moments, before we fragmented. For years, he was the only person to ever show me affection or pay any attention to me. The first person to ever make me feel like I was worth more than my parent’s bank accounts. Even if it was all lies.
“I hurt you.”
“Yes,” I say, managing to force my words past my lips despite our proximity and the way they’re trembling. “You did. A lot. Years and years of hurting me, Niklas.” I don’t know if it’s being in Jake’s apartment that’s making me brave, but these are words I’ve never uttered to him before. Not in this way. Not this directly.
“I lost control over myself, Fiona, and you suffered from that. I love you. You’re my world. I was your first kiss. I took your virginity. I am your only lover,” he stresses the word, maybe seeing if I’ll disagree with him on that. I’m not as stupid as he thinks I am, so I keep my mouth shut. “Perhaps next time you’ll speak to me before fleeing? It appears this could have all been cleared up with a simple conversation.”
He wipes my tears and kisses my cheeks, and I feel like I’m dying. Like my soul can’t possibly recover. He’s going to take me back. He’s going to force me to go back with him. There was a plan and now that’s destroyed, all because he showed up.
“I’m waiting for my apology, Fiona. And I expect it to be good. Satisfying.”
Shit. He presses my hand against the fabric of his pants, directly over his hardening cock, and I don’t know what to do. My heart thrums so frantically I feel the pulse in my toes as I search the recesses of my mind for a way out of this. If I say no, he might force me. He’s done that before. But I’m definitely not about to say yes to him, either.
Think, Fiona. Goddammit, think!
“I’m not ready for that yet,” I blurt out, knowing it’s weak and ineffective. “I need time to process everything you’ve said to me.”
“There is nothing to process. You’ll believe what I tell you because it’s the truth. You’ll suck my cock because you’re my wife and you’ve angered me by leaving. Because you made me travel thousands of miles to come get you. Because I’m sitting in another man’s apartment.”
If Jake comes home, Niklas will hurt or kill him. I honestly have no idea what this man is capable of at this point. I can’t let that happen. “Let’s go home,” I say softly, swallowing down the physical revolution those words bring me.
“We will.” I let out a breath and move to stand, but Niklas doesn’t let me move. He doesn’t let me breathe. He holds me so close and so tight my ribs compress in on my lungs. His other hand jerks my jaw up, forcing my eyes on his. “I want your mouth on my cock while we wait for your lover to come home.”
“Niklas—”
“Tell me I’m wrong, Fiona. Lie to my face and tell me this man, this Jake Harris Turner, has not been inside your body.”
Blood rushes through my ears like a train at top speed. Loud and thunderous. My vision blurs and I can’t decipher if it’s from panic, lack of oxygen, or my tears. Smack. My head whips to the left. The entire right side of my face burning with white-hot heat.
I hear Maddox’s words echo in my head. Don’t panic. Listen. React. I’m done here. Done with him. Time to go.
I suck in a restricted breath and push Niklas back, crawling out from under his bruising grip and dropping onto the floor. The elevator. I need to get to the elevator. But he’ll stop me before I can even press the button, let alone get inside and flee. My gun. Holy Christ, my gun is in my backpack by the elevator, but it’s buried in the main pouch because I’m a stupid, stupid woman.
I crab-walk backwards, stuck between the couch and the coffee table. If I stand up this close to him, he’ll grab me and pull me down. Most likely backwards. Niklas watches me for a moment, shock and amusement dancing in his eyes. But that doesn’t last long. It takes him less than a second to realize my intention.
“What are you doing, bitch?” I see his names for me haven’t changed in the month I’ve been gone.
It’s time. God give me strength, it’s time.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, Niklas.”
His eyes widen as he stands up, tall and imposingly fearsome.
The elevator. My backpack. The gun. They’re all I’m thinking about. But my focus is entirely on Niklas.
I spring to my feet when I reach the end of the coffee table and turn to run like I’ve never run before. I hear his footsteps come up behind me. His hands wrap around my neck, yanking me back before I even clear the chair he initially set me in. But inwardly, I smile, because it is exactly what I knew he would do. He yells something I don’t pay attention to as he starts to squeeze.
Not today, Niklas. Today, I will take you down. Not the other way around.
I bend my knees into a partial squat, step to my left, plant my dominant foot, and elbow him in the stomach with all my strength. His grip on the back of my neck falters as he leans forward, clutching his stomach. Before he can pull himself together, I spin around, facing him directly and thrust my foot in his stomach. He barks out something loud and unintelligible, the hand that had been pressed against his abdomen crunches beneath the impact of my foot. I replant my feet and deliver two front punches to his face, back to back.
He staggers, practically tumbling backward over the glass coffee table. He recovers faster than I anticipate, certainly faster than I had hoped. He lunges for my retreating form, catching me, pushing me, knocking me down to the ground. My cheek smacks against the hardwood floor, as does my knee. I’m momentarily dazed, unable to regain my bearings until he flips me onto my back.
My body zings with anticipation, my old wounds aching in protest. His fist connects with my jaw, pain exploding from with
in. The familiar taste of metallic copper fills my mouth. Blood pools so quickly from where my teeth mashed into the soft inner tissue of my cheek, I let it drool out onto the floor, just as he slams his foot into my stomach, the way I did his.
“I’m not going to kill you, Fiona. I’m going to torture you. I’m going to make you my prisoner. You’re mine,” he taunts, laughing evilly as he wipes blood from his mouth and spits on the floor. “There is no running from me.”
This is the moment. I’m in pain, I’m bleeding, I’m down on the ground and I’m a little dazed from hitting my head. I breathe. In. Out. In. Out. I hear him. He’s coming for me. I open my eyes as his fist rapidly descends for my face. I roll over before I can even blink, and he punches the unforgiving floor instead of my face. He howls out in agony, clutching his fist with his other hand.
Scrambling up as fast as I can, I kick him in the side so he falls awkwardly into the coffee table and run for the elevator to hit the button. I know it’s not the smartest thing I can do. I know it’s going to take forever for it to get to me. But I don’t have a choice at this point.
I can’t beat him. I can only slow him down.
I make it just to where the button is, but I’m pulled back before I can press it. My phone rings from the confines of my backpack that is lying a solid five feet from me. I know it’s Jake and that makes me even more desperate.
Niklas has my neck again and he’s squeezing so hard, I’m choking for air. He screams in my face, but all I can do is whimper. He hits me again and I smack back on the floor, my vision gray and crackly. He straddles my waist, hovering over me with a stare so malevolent I know there is no going back for him now. My hearing is wobbly, but I don’t miss it when he says he’s going to kill me. I’m too broken, too hurt to fight him off. He strangles me harder and my reflexes kick in along with any remnants of adrenaline still flowing through me. I’m clawing and kicking and gasping. I find no purchase, nothing to make it stop and no air to fill my burning lungs.