by Radclyffe
Carter absorbed the words as if they were blows. Her body ached. Her heart bled. “I don’t want you to betray him.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I’m in love with you.”
Rica laughed. “If you come anywhere near me again, I won’t wait for Enzo to do the job.”
Carter closed her eyes, knowing that when she opened them, Rica would be gone. Rica was still inside the house where they’d come for sanctuary and to make love, but she was as unattainable now as if they’d never met. The gulf that stretched between them echoed with recriminations and broken trust. She’d always known how the story would end, but even knowing, she’d been helpless not to play her part. Still, the empty room and the silent house hurt far more than she’d thought possible. After all the lies, it was the truth that would finally break her heart.
I’m in love with you.
*
Rica walked directly upstairs, through her bedroom, past the bed where she’d lain only hours before in Carter’s arms. She opened the French doors and stepped out onto the deck. The sky was heavy with clouds, thick gray layers of impending rain that obscured the shoreline and draped the lighthouse at Race Point in shrouds of fog. The air was dank and cold. She’d been wrong. Her earlier chill had had nothing to do with Carter abandoning her in the aftermath of their hasty passion, but only with the weather. Nothing had changed except the color of the sky. Women had come into her life and passed through with barely a notice before, leaving nothing in their wake but blurred memories. Pleasure was a fleeting sensation and after a time, empty.
I’m a cop, Rica.
Why hadn’t she known? Why hadn’t she sensed that something was terribly wrong? How had she allowed a handsome face and a little bit of attention to cloud her judgment so badly?
I’m in love with you.
She’d heard the words, but she refused to consider their meaning. Nothing Carter said could be trusted. She was a liar and a threat.
I’m in love with you.
Carter had asked her about her life. Her life. Not her father’s. She’d been interested in her work, her plans for the gallery, her struggle to build a future all her own. They’d never talked about her legacy. Carter had never asked about her father.
I’m a cop, Rica.
Nothing Carter had said mattered now. Her only reason for being in Rica’s life had been to destroy it. This was the reason that opening up to anyone but family was dangerous. At least family could be trusted.
Rica shivered, feeling the weight of Enzo’s body pinning her to the wall, his hard fury pounding between her thighs. Family.
I’m in love with you.
Rica closed her eyes, trying to erase the images of Carter driving her home through the dark, shepherding her to safety, pushing her to orgasm. Carter’s hands, tender and demanding. Her mouth, gentle and fierce. Her eyes, compassionate and devouring.
I’m a cop, Rica.
Why had Carter told her? Why risk the truth? Why had she held her all night?
Rica fought back tears and brutally contained her pain with fury and denial. The effort made her head scream; her face was a throbbing agony. Nearly blind with the pain, she stumbled into her bathroom and pawed through the medicine cabinet for painkillers. Nothing.
She curled up on top of the sheets, her arms clutched around her middle, her knees drawn up, her eyes tightly closed. The pain in her head and the ache in her heart threatened to consume her. She wished for oblivion but sleep wouldn’t come. She moaned as her stomach revolted. She smelled Carter on the pillow. With a cry, she pushed herself up and fumbled for the phone.
When she pulled out of her driveway thirty minutes later, she was too busy fighting back the nausea to notice the vehicle that fell into line a discreet distance behind her.
Chapter Twenty
Tory lifted the chart from the rack on the back of the door. When she didn’t recognize the name, she thumbed through to the intake form. Chief complaint: headache. The rest of the information was sparse. No significant past medical history, no drugs, no allergies, no unusual illnesses. She knocked on the door and walked into the examining room.
“Ms. Grechi? Hello, I’m Dr. King.”
The woman who sat on the examining table was sheet white, the skin around her luminous dark eyes tight with obvious pain, her lips pale. A noticeable hematoma marred her left cheek and a bruise discolored her flawless skin as far down as the edge of her jaw. Tory reached to the wall beside her and turned off the overhead fluorescents, leaving only the small lights under the cabinets for illumination.
“Thank you,” Rica said.
Tory gestured to the chart. “It says you have a headache.”
“Yes. An enormous one. I took some ibuprofen last night, but I don’t think that’s going to be enough today.”
“Do you have a history of headaches? Migraines?”
Rica started to shake her head, then stopped quickly with a wince. “No.”
“Any other symptoms besides the headache? Changes in vision—wavy lines, spots, blind areas?”
“No. I’m a little nauseated just at the moment. I’m sure if I can just get some sleep, I’ll be fine. I was hoping you could give me something for the pain.”
“Let me get a look.” Tory removed a small penlight from her lab coat pocket, examined Rica’s eyes, and then performed a complete head and neck exam. When she finished, she made a few notes, then set the chart aside. “How did you get the bruise on your cheek?”
Rica’s expression did not change as she contemplated Tory and the closed folder. The message was clear. Off the record. Not that it mattered, because she didn’t discuss private matters with strangers. She heard the words in her head and would have laughed if her face hadn’t been about to explode. When had she started lying to herself about herself? She had discussed a great many personal things with Carter with hardly a moment’s worry. She hadn’t even worried about letting her into her heart. Oh God, was that what she’d done? No. Of course she hadn’t. She might have been blinded by lust, but… She realized the doctor was waiting, regarding her with calm, accepting eyes. Whatever mistakes she’d made with Carter, she wouldn’t pretend it was only lust between them. That lie hurt too much. “Someone hit me.”
“When?”
“Last night.” Rica felt unexpectedly relieved at the opportunity to say the words out loud. She didn’t ask herself why, blaming the pain as an excuse for her lapse in caution.
“How many times?”
Rica thought back to the frantic encounter. She couldn’t remember the exact sequence, only her initial anger giving way to escalating panic. She hated him more for the fear than the violation of her body. He’d hit her when she’d struggled, and then again when she still wouldn’t give in. It was hard to remember it. Hard to relive it, but she recalled quite vividly the fury in Carter’s eyes as she’d confronted Enzo. And, after she’d hit him, the gentleness in Carter’s touch when she’d taken Rica into her arms. It was so much easier to recall the tenderness than the brutality. “Twice.”
“Did you lose consciousness?”
“No.”
“Has this person done this before?”
Rica grimaced. “No, he hasn’t.”
“Did you report it to the police?”
“No.” She met Tory’s eyes. “It’s a family matter.”
“Ms. Grechi,” Tory said gently, “in situations like thi—”
“Dr. King,” Rica said, “I know what the procedures are, and I know what you’re thinking. I’m not an abused partner. I don’t have a romantic relationship with this man and, believe me, I’m not trying to protect him. You’ll just have to believe me that it won’t happen again.”
“All right,” Tory said after a moment. Her new patient did not have the frantic, almost apologetic demeanor of the chronically abused. There was also something about her careful phrasing that made Tory believe this wasn’t the result of a love affair gone bad, either. “Did he assault you
in any other way?”
Rica closed her hands tightly around the edge of the vinyl cushion that covered the examining table. She felt his hands on her thighs, his erection thrusting between her legs. She hated him and everything he represented in her life. His arrogant entitlement, his cruel dominance. All her life she’d lived in the shadow of men like Enzo. Her father was blind to the fact that his power made her nothing more than an object of desire, a prize to be won. Whereas his power defined him, it obliterated her. From the moment they’d met, Carter had seen only her, not Alfonse Pareto’s daughter. At least, that’s what she’d believed. Until this morning. Rica swallowed around the sudden constriction in her throat. Her voice was soft when she spoke. “No. He didn’t have a chance to.”
“But you believe you’re safe from him now?”
“Yes.”
Tory rested her fingertips on the chart and spun it slowly on the table, searching Rica’s face. “Part of your headache is due to the fact that your temporomandibular joint is badly inflamed as a result of the blows. I don’t see any evidence of intracranial injury, but you were lucky. The next time he could do far more serious damage.”
“It won’t happen again. Please take my word for that.”
“I can’t force you to file charges, and I do understand how difficult it can be, especially when it’s a family member. Will you call me if there’s another problem?”
Rica stared, surprised. “Why does it matter so much to you? You don’t know me.”
Tory smiled. “No, I don’t. But I care that someone hurt you, because no one has the right to do that.”
“Is it that simple for you?” Rica asked curiously. Nothing in her life had ever seemed to be black and white. Some of the things her father did for a living were illegal, but he was her father and she loved him. So she pretended that if she didn’t acknowledge what he did, she wouldn’t have to judge him. He had given her a life that appeared on the surface to be one of privilege, but underneath, it had been a prison. Carter had lied to her, and yet she’d felt more like herself with Carter than she ever had with another person. There was nothing simple about the truths of her life. “Do you always find the right and wrong of things so clear?”
“No, not always.” Tory’s eyes grew distant as she thought of Reese and wondered what she was doing at that moment. Some people believed soldiers like Reese blindly followed orders as if every decision was black and white, but Tory knew that wasn’t true. She could tell from their often aborted conversations that Reese questioned what she was doing in a country half a world away fighting for an agenda that was far from apparent. Reese believed in the ideals of the Marine Corps, but Tory knew her allegiance came with a personal price. Reese paid it, and so, now, did she. Tory looked into Rica’s eyes. “But this is one of those times when I think the right and wrong of it are very clear. He has no right to touch you, ever, unless you want him to.”
“It won’t happen again, but,” Rica said quickly, sensing Tory’s objection, “I’ll call you if I’m wrong.”
Tory nodded, satisfied. “Good. The medication I’m going to give you will make you sleepy. Do you have someone who can stay with you?”
“Yes,” Rica lied. Not anymore.
“Don’t take these until you get home if you’re driving.”
“No, I won’t. Thank you.”
As Tory wrote out the prescription, she said, “Call me tomorrow if the pain hasn’t improved or if your jaw gets stiffer. We may need to x-ray it.”
“Yes, of course,” Rica said, taking the prescription. “I appreciate your help.”
“Just take care of yourself, Ms. Grechi.”
“I will.” Rica made her way outside, steadfastly ignoring the pounding pain behind her eyes. Take care of yourself. Yes, that was just what she intended to do, and her first stop, even before the pharmacy, was going to be her gallery, where she kept a .25 caliber Beretta in the desk.
She was so focused on fighting off the headache until she could finish what she needed to do that she didn’t even notice the car that pulled out behind her again or the official-looking vehicle with the insignia on the doors that passed her on its way into the parking lot.
*
Tory didn’t look up at the sound of her office door opening, but continued making notes in a patient’s chart. “I’ll be ready for the next one in a minute.”
“Tory,” Randy said, his voice oddly hollow.
“Hmm,” Tory said tiredly, glancing toward the door. She dropped her pen and stood slowly, her eyes riveted on the man standing next to Randy in the doorway. She’d heard his voice several times over the phone, but she’d never seen him. He was very handsome, and with his dark black hair, laser-bright blue eyes, and strong bold features, he looked more like Reese than she’d expected. The chin was different; that Reese got from her mother. “Oh my God.”
The officer in the impeccable uniform smoothly closed the office door as Randy reflexively stepped back into the hall. Then he advanced swiftly until he was standing opposite Tory with his hand extended. His voice was a rich baritone. “Dr. King, I’m General Roger Conlon.”
Tory recognized the large gold ring with the Marine Corps insignia he wore on his right hand. Reese had one just like it, but she didn’t wear it. She kept it in a box in the top drawer of her dresser. She didn’t wear any jewelry, except for her wedding ring. Tory couldn’t bring herself to take his hand. She didn’t want him in her office. She didn’t want him in her life. She didn’t want him to say whatever he had come to say.
“I know who you are.” Tory braced her fingertips against the top of the desk. Her arms were shaking. She stared into his eyes, which were cool and unwavering. Hers stung with fury. “You couldn’t be bothered to come here before, when she was happy. When we were happy. Don’t you dare come in here now and tell me she’s dead.”
“We have no confirmation that is the case.” Not a muscle in his handsome face flickered. His voice was smooth and hard as granite. “I am here to inform you that Colonel Conlon is missing in action.”
Missing in action. What did that mean? That she was dead but they couldn’t find her body? That she was lost in the desert without radio contact? No, it couldn’t be something as simple as that, or he wouldn’t be there. It was something worse. Something she didn’t want to know. She wanted him gone. She wanted his war to be gone. She wanted Reese at home where she belonged, with the people who loved her, doing the work that mattered to so many every day. She wanted Reese beside her in the night, holding the baby, guiding Bri into adulthood with a sure and steady hand. She wanted her lover, her partner, her love, in her arms.
“Where is she? God damn you, where is she?”
“Colonel Conlon was in command of a unit escorting several high-ranking officials from Baghdad to a secure facility when her convoy was attacked by insurgents. Her vehicle and several others were separated from the main body during the firefight.”
Tory struggled to decipher what he was saying. “Separated. Where did they go?”
“The vehicles have been recovered along with a number of casualties. Colonel Conlon’s body was not among them.”
Casualties. Body. A wave of dizziness threatened to take her legs out from under her. Tory sat heavily and pressed trembling fingers to her mouth. She breathed deeply several times and called upon every bit of fortitude she had to think her way through what he was telling her. “So she might be alive.”
“Colonel Con—”
“Reese. Her name is Reese.”
Reese’s father nodded. “Reese and three others are presumed captured.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“Not as of yet.”
“But you are looking for her, aren’t you?”
Tory thought it impossible that Roger Conlon could look any harder than he already did, but his face transformed before her eyes into an unyielding wall of stone.
“Reese is a Marine. We don’t leave our people behind.”
With eff
ort, Tory pushed herself up. “Then you find her, General Conlon. You find her, you get her out, and you bring her home. I’ve had enough of your war. Reese has done her duty, now you do yours.”
For just a second, Roger Conlon looked taken aback. “You have my word.”
“Does Kate know?” Tory asked, feeling hope replace despair. Reese was smart. Reese was tough. Reese would not leave them. She wouldn’t, not when she knew how very much they needed her.
“No. Colonel Con—Reese listed you as her next of kin.”
“I am.” Tory wondered fleetingly what it cost him to say that, but found that she didn’t really care. All that mattered was that he use whatever power he had at his disposal to find Reese. She scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to him. “This is my cell phone number. When you find her, call me. If she’s hurt…” Her voice broke and she closed her eyes. After a second, she went on, “If she’s hurt, I want to know immediately…and I’ll want to talk to the doctors. You make that happen.”
“I’m in constant contact with the officers in command over there. I’ll know the moment there’s news.”
“Good. That’s good.”
“Try not to worry, Dr. King.”
Tory glanced around the room as if she weren’t certain where she was. Then she straightened, and her voice was stronger. “I’ll be at Kate’s for the next few hours. Our daughter is there.” She held Roger Conlon’s gaze. “Regina will be glad when Reese comes home. She misses her. We all do.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t imagine that you do, but I don’t need you to. I just want her home.”
“I’ll see to it.”
Tory waited until Reese’s father had left the room before slumping into her chair. She wasn’t certain who to call. She needed to tell Kate. She needed to arrange for the rest of her patients to be seen. Bonita couldn’t handle them all alone. She could call KT. No, KT was in Boston. Wasn’t she? Pia would know. She pressed her fingertips to her temples and closed her eyes. It was so hard to think. Why was it so hard to think?