The Strand Brothers Series: Complete Set

by Lora Ann

  *****

  Sleep wasn’t on our agenda when we arrived home that night. Instead, we made love in the shower. Afterwards, we went to find our dinner waiting for us. Mary Alice wasn’t just a master at desserts, she was a remarkable cook no matter what she chose to make. And I admittedly was a bit jealous. I actually liked to cook. Even though I knew I couldn’t hold a candle to her expertise. Nik noticed the change in me as he inquired, “What is it?”

  I laughed without humor. “Nothing.”

  He reached forward and ran the pad of his finger between my eyes. “This frown is not ‘nothing.’ Tell me, please.”

  While I really liked his bossy side, the politeness always won me over. “It’s silly.” I shook my head.

  “How do you know I’ll think that if you don’t tell me?”

  Well, he had a point there. I shrugged. “I like to cook. But there’s no way I can compete with Mary Alice’s brilliance.”

  “Ah, I see. You’re feeling a little jealous.”

  “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  He stood and scooped me up into his arms, kissing my cheek, jaw, and then my lips. “I’d love for you to cook for me.”

  Still a tad breathless from the unexpected ardor, I panted, “You would? Why?”

  He nuzzled my nose with his. “Because it would be an act of love. Mary Alice does it for a living. Yes, she enjoys it. But it is still her job.” He began walking through the house and up the stairs to our bedroom.

  I held on to his neck and kissed his stubbled jaw. “I think I get what you mean,” running my tongue along his sculpted bottom lip, “For all intents and purposes, I would be doing it to bring you pleasure.”

  His breathing was ragged, causing him to half-growl out, “Precisely.”

  And that was the end of our conversation for the evening, as we proceeded to make love well into the wee hours.

  *****

  The next couple of weeks were insanely busy. I was learning the business by trial and error while Nik worked on a merger. Therefore, we didn’t spend more than the evenings together. But we made the most of our time. We were an active newlywed couple, so there wasn’t one night we didn’t make love. Sometimes, it was a few times a night. Okay, maybe we were a bit overactive.

  As I looked back now, I continued to question if what happened next was necessary. Though life didn’t come with do overs, there were times I truly wished it did. Having said all of that, that particular night had gone like the others before it. I couldn’t recall the exact moment it all changed. Completely. As if you were watching the speeding train head directly for the stalled car on the tracks, and there was not a damn thing you could do to stop the impact. You knew it would be bad. Aware, there was no chance of escape. A smart person would’ve screamed, at least closed their eyes, but, no, I chose to watch in abstract horror as my life altered, once again.

  *****

  We were snuggled under the covers enjoying the aftermath of tremendous sex. By far, one the best experiences we’d ever had. I lay on his chest tracing the brutal, yet beautiful tattoo over his heart. The dagger was downright ferocious in its dark black ink. Though it was the red hearts with the darker crimson blood teardrops I had always wondered about. I felt exceptionally close to my husband, especially at that moment, so I dared to ask the question: “What does this tatt mean to you?”

  He instantly stiffened underneath me and gave me an indifferent, “Nothing.”

  Bullshit. I knew better and countered, “Don’t be so enigmatic with me. I am your wife; hence, I have a right to know.”

  Well, that pissed him off royally—if the look he shot me was anything to go by.

  “I don’t have to tell you shit about me or my body.” His voice was implacable. “Drop it,” he demanded as he sat up, turning away from me.

  Oh, hell no. He was not avoiding me on this. I placed my hand on his shoulder and continued, “Stop evading me. I really don’t see what the big deal is.”

  He stood and began to walk away. There was no way I was going to tolerate such an action. I darted in front of him, effectively blocking his path. “Tell me,” I demanded. Hind sight, I should’ve been gentler—more understanding. But damn it all, his attitude had pushed me too far. There was no backing down, now.

  When he grasped my shoulders, I could feel the tremors wracking his body. Was it temper, or something else? I would never know. “Why can’t you just accept that I’m unable to discuss this with you?”

  Exasperated, I blew out a breath. “Because your behavior doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

  His nostrils flared as his eyes narrowed. “That’s your perspective. I make perfect sense when it comes to this issue.

  “You don’t share crap with me, Nik!” I roared. “So don’t stand there playing all high and mighty with me.” I yanked out of his grasp and held my ground. “I know the dagger was done in prison. You’ve at least told me that much. What’s the rest of the story?” I queried while I placed my hand over the hearts the tip of the dagger pierced.

  He recoiled from me like I had burned him. Then nastily he snorted, “You don’t touch me without my permission.”

  That did it. Bastard had some serious audacity. I spat out, “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on!” With that, I left the room and stormed down the hall until I reached a guestroom, where I planned on staying. It would be a cold day in hell before I’d go back into the master bedroom with that asshole.

  I heard the door slam and then Nik’s heavy footsteps on the stairs. Good. I hope he doesn’t sleep tonight. Finally realizing he was somewhere in the huge mansion cooling off, I crawled under the covers and fell into a fitful sleep.

  *****

  Later, I awoke discombobulated. It took me a few moments to recognize where I was. All of a sudden, I remembered the horrible fight we’d had earlier and decided it was time to make up. I hated sleeping without Nik’s monstrous arms wrapped around me. Let’s face it, I missed him. So I did the most logical thing, I grabbed a robe from the closet and went in search of my wayward husband.

  As I walked down the stairs, I could hear the guitar. I padded towards the sound, instantly recognizing the sorrowful tune by Tim McGraw being played. When I peeked in through the crack in the door, I froze.

  The sight before me would forever be etched in my mind. Nik sat strumming his guitar while he stared, with tears streaming down his cheeks, at a picture. From where I stood, I couldn’t see who was in it. But when the song changed to the haunting, mournful melody I’d heard him play once before, I had a pretty good idea. Crap! It seemed no matter what I did I would never hold a candle to his dead wife.

  I eased away from the room and crept back upstairs. After I carefully closed the door to our bedroom, I grabbed a bag and began to pack a few changes-of-clothes, along with my toiletries and makeup. Once the task was completed, I wiped my tear stained face and then went back to the guestroom I was using. As I composed the note, I once again broke down and sobbed. I pulled myself together and set my iPod on the song by Lunatica. It was as much for him as it was for me.

  I made my escape cautiously. The fog matched my mood as I walked along the deserted street. I eventually found a cab, making my way to the airport. There was only one place I could go where no one would know to look for me. And I had every intention of staying there until I could face life without Nik. Because that much was clear, I couldn’t compete with a ghost, nor did I want to try anymore. I was done. No matter how much it broke my heart; I wouldn’t be second best. Even if that meant being alone for the rest of my life.

  So.

  Be.

  It.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Nik

  The hardest thing I had ever done in my life was say a final goodbye to Rachel. As the tears rolled down my face, a sob broke through. Though I knew it was time—well past time, actually—it still tore me up. I relived every moment I had ever shared with her. All the way to the untimely end I had brought about, which was the very reason wh
y I still couldn’t explain the tattoo over my heart. On cue the spot began to ache, and I rubbed it profusely. The knowledge that it was time to bare my soul to Aimee didn’t make any of this easier. Really, who wanted to hear their spouse was a killer? Hell, I sure wouldn’t. Why would Aimee be any different? Yet through the avalanche of those uncontrolled emotions, I could hear Rachel’s last words: “I love you, Niky.” All the while the damned song “Please Remember Me” played, loud and clear, on the radio that fateful night. How did the song mysteriously come out of that busted radio? I would probably never know the answer to that.

  Fact was, rehashing all the could’ves, would’ves, and should’ves, wasn’t going to bring her back. Although it pained me to say that, I wasn’t sure it was what I wanted. Please, don’t misunderstand me. I would give anything to have Rachel and my daughter alive and well. It wasn’t that. What I meant was, my feelings for Aimee ran deeper. Wider. More all-consuming. Did I feel like shit for admitting that? Hell yeah, I did. But it didn’t change the facts: I loved Rachel. But I love Aimee more.

  Now it was time she knew that. Rachel was my past, and a part of me would always love her. But Aimee was my present, my future. I would tell her everything about me, and I’d start with the damned tattoo. After I put my guitar aside, I went over to the wet bar and grabbed a towel to dry my face. I’m sure I look like hell. There, I decided a little liquid courage couldn’t hurt. I finally got my shit together and headed back to our bedroom. Don’t you dare wimp out here. Man up. No pussyfooting it, either.

  Before I opened the door, I took a deep breath. Huh, it was strange she wasn’t in bed. I peeked in the bathroom—no Aimee. What the fuck? A chill ran down my spine as I cautiously approached the walk-in closet. Shit! Some of her things were missing. I went back to the bathroom and inspected it closer. Yep, her stuff was definitely gone. My fist went through the wall before I marched out of the bedroom.

  Over and over I yelled her name; as I threw open every door. Wait, was that music I heard? What the hell? I knocked before I entered, just in case I had blown this out of proportion. No. Such. Luck. The song “Who You Are” was playing on a loop. With a beastly roar—I didn’t recognize—I began to destroy the room and everything in it. In a haze of rage, I almost missed the letter lying on the pillow. I ran both hands through my hair, pulling at it profusely, until I found some kind of control. Barely. Ticking time bomb was an accurate description of how I felt at that moment.

  I fell onto the edge of the bed and grasped the neatly folded piece of paper with my name written in beautiful script. For a minute, I simply traced over her handwriting. Scared shitless of what I was about to read, yet I knew I had to. I would’ve paid an enormous amount of money to not read her words to me. Though being a pussy was never something I had ever been before. No sense starting now!

  My dearest Nikko,

  First and foremost, you need to know how much I love you. More than I ever thought possible. You are my everything. Which is why, this is much harder than it should be.

  I don’t understand your reticence towards me. Maybe you’re like that with everyone. Though it appears you’re not with your brothers. Could be I’ve misread that. Still, your reaction tonight was abhorable. I realize that sounds a bit cruel, but dammit, it’s how I feel. I thought your body was mine? Just like my body is yours. I guess I misunderstood that.

  Once I calmed down and slept on things, I realized I didn’t want to be without you. So, I came looking for you. But what I saw and heard sealed the deal. Your tribute to Rachel was beautiful. I wish you could feel that way about me. It’s obvious you still love her very much. FTR, I never wanted you to stop loving her. I just thought you had room for me, too. Again, I suppose, that was just my wishful thinking.

  Here’s the thing, Nik. I thought I could play second fiddle. I really did. But I can’t. That’s not your fault. I don’t blame you. You need to know, I didn’t leave because I’m angry. I left ‘cause no matter how much I love you, I can’t take the backseat to another woman. I’m truly sorry. I thought I could.

  I won’t compete with a ghost.

  I wish you well. I hope you find happiness.

  With all my heart,

  Aimee

  As I shook my head and moaned out my sorrow, the words to the song caught my attention: it was all about not feeling or healing until you found yourself. Well, hell, didn’t that just about sum me up?! Oh, she was good. I would give her that. Problem was, I had finally figured it out. While she was up here writing this blasted letter to me, I had come to terms with everything, everyone, myself and her. I slammed my fist down to shut the fucking iPod up, and then I strode downstairs.

  She.

  Wasn’t.

  Leaving.

  Me.

  Come hell or high water, I would find her.

  When I walked into the lower level hallway, I banged on Ray’s door. I would give him credit, he never batted an eye as he opened the door and said, “What’s wrong, sir?”

  Thank God, someone had presence of mind. I howled, “Aimee’s gone.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  I swear, at that moment, I could’ve hit the guy. “I think you heard me loud and clear.”

  “I-I meant, I have twenty-four hour surveillance outside of the mansion,” he stammered. “I don’t understand how she slipped by my guys?”

  “Well, neither do I. But she has.”

  He grabbed his radio to double-check with the security team. Sure enough, James confirmed, “I had her, sir. Then somehow she gave me the slip.”

  “Fuuuuuuck,” Ray growled back.

  Yep, my sentiments exactly! My brows rose at him. “See.” The “I told you so” left unspoken, for now.

  *****

  The next few hours were spent gathering any intel possible on Aimee’s whereabouts. We still hadn’t come up with jack when my brothers entered the stressful scene. They knew me well, and didn’t mince words.

  “What’ve you got so far?” Alex inquired.

  “Nada. Zilch. Nothing whatsoever. It’s as if she fell off the face of the earth.”

  E, in his general sarcastic tone, fired off, “Maybe she snuck through a portal and is now in another realm.”

  I threw the glass I was holding right at his head. Luckily, he had the reflexes to lean away from the flying object. While that pissed me off at the time, later on, I was damned grateful I hadn’t hurt my baby brother.

  Alex, being the forever peacemaker, stepped between us. First, he scolded E: “That, bro, was uncalled for. And you know it.” He then turned to me. “Second, Nik, what the hell were you thinking? You could’ve killed him if that had struck just right.” We both received a stern look that was so much like our mother’s I paused. He continued, “Now, you two, cut the crap. We have a wife to find.” He used his utmost lawyer voice.

  Bastard had a point. Not that I would tell him so. Hell, no. Never admit defeat had been my motto for years. And the reason I was successful at business. Although I concede—at least to myself—it didn’t work very well in a marriage. I ran my hand through my hair, and then extended it out to E. “I’m sorry, man. Tension’s a bit high right now.”

  “Yeah, I get that. I apologize, Nik. I really don’t mean to be a dick.”

  Alex messed up his hair. “We know you don’t. You just can’t help yourself.”

  Without heat he growled, “Up yours.”

  After a few more moments of my brothers banter, we got down to the nitty-gritty. “Here’s what we know so far,” I informed them. There really wasn’t squat to go by. We had no idea where she went. No trace that Aimee had rented a car, bought a plane or train ticket.

  Alex piped up, “So, we’re back to square one.”

  “Unless I’ve missed something here,” I countered as I laid out all the documentation and surveillance photos we had of her.

  E sighed, “What a clusterfuck.”

  I began to pace as I responded, “Yeah, it
is.”

  “And then some,” Alex added.

  With a fine tooth comb, we went through every single thing we had. And still we had no direction on her whereabouts. Frustrated, I spat out, “Damn it all!”

  That was when the door flew open with no preamble. Ray strode in purposely and threw a manila envelope down on the desk. “We may have something,” he said implacably.

  I motioned for him to continue.

  “A ticket agent at the airport thinks she recognized Aimee from a photo.”

  Alex chimed in, “But?”

  Ray nodded, “But the woman she saw had dark auburn hair.”

  With no humor I chuckled, “Clever girl.”

  E caught on fast. His gaze held mine as he stated, “She wore a wig.”

  “Apparently.” Ray continued, “At least it looks like that’s what she did. Plus, she made the disguise complete with old clothes and no makeup.” He stroked his jaw. “She’s damn good, I’ll give her that.”

  Alex queried, “Let me guess, she paid cash for the ticket?”

  Ray confirmed, “Yep. Oh, and get this, she changed planes four times, yet we don’t have a destination.”

  Before I could, E asked, “How’s that possible?”

  “Simple,” Ray answered, “She didn’t continue on. From what we could gather from the airline, she didn’t board the flight in DFW.”

  “Well, hell,” I snorted. “She could be anywhere.”

  Ray confirmed, “Yes, sir.” Then, “There’s no record of her renting a car.”

  Alex scrubbed a hand over his face. “She found another mode of transportation.”

  That was when Ray dropped the bomb. “And altered her appearance, again.” He jabbed his finger at a security camera photo of Aimee in the getup she left San Fran in. Then another photo was of a very well-dressed woman walking away from the camera. She had dark brown hair styled in a sleek bob and wore dark sunglasses.