After Zane and Brad left for lunch, Laurella’s breath left her lungs with a whoosh.
She turned her head to look at Calum. “It’s over,” she said, relief coursing through her veins.
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Yes. It’s all over.”
Chapter 30
Laurella stepped into her apartment and closed the door behind her. She locked it and put on the chain. She sighed tiredly and dropped her bag on a nearby chair then glanced at her watch. Forty-five minutes until Calum was due. Plenty of time to grab a shower and get changed. He was taking her to the theater that evening to celebrate being home.
Home… yes, that was how she now thought of New York. Being back in Italy for those few days had taught her that she wanted more. To go back there permanently would have been the wrong thing to do, although if Cole and Draven hadn’t managed to scare off Vorino, she wouldn’t have had a choice.
Cole hadn’t spilled all the details of what happened when he and Draven had gone round to Vorino’s hotel, but what he had shared had been enough. Vorino was a coward at heart, like most bullies, and he wouldn’t risk going up against the likes of Cole and Draven. She was glad Calum had stayed out of it. The last thing she wanted was him getting into trouble for her, although she knew how difficult he’d found it to hand off the task of dealing with Vorino to his twin brother. Calum was such a manly man that he couldn’t have liked standing back. But he’d done it for her, his willingness to follow her wishes offering yet more ironclad evidence of his love.
She padded into the bedroom and quickly undressed. Stepping into the shower, she bent her head and let the hot water cascade over her, washing away the stress of the last few hours. The day had gone much better than she’d imagined. Everyone had been so welcoming, so glad to have her back. She was starting to understand what Calum had said to her all those months before: small companies were like family.
After a few minutes, she got out and wrapped herself in a large towel. She dried off and went into the bedroom then removed the blue lingerie Calum had referred to in Chicago. Chuckling to herself, she slipped on the panties and fastened the bra. She knew what his response would be when he undressed her later that evening.
With gentle strokes, she brushed her hair, easing out the knots. She really did need a haircut. She liked to wear it long, but the extra inches made it difficult to manage. That place down on Sixth and Forty-Third had a decent hairdresser. She’d call in the morning and see if they could fit her in over the weekend.
She plugged in her hairdryer, but as she went to switch it on, she paused, wrinkling her nose. What was that smell? It was vaguely familiar. Where had she smelled it before? She didn’t get a chance to investigate because a strong arm came around her neck, and she was yanked backward.
Her knee hit the edge of the dresser, and pain ballooned outward. She screamed, arms and legs flailing as she tried to get her assailant off her. She caught him with an elbow to the ribs, and he grunted and leaned back, which gave her enough room to twist out of his hold.
She sprinted for the kitchen, but he was on her before she got there. His arm came around her throat again, and this time he applied so much pressure she struggled to breathe. Oh God, what’s happening? Panic and fear froze her brain. He was much stronger than she was—too strong for her to do anything.
Her gaze fell on a kitchen knife lying three feet away on the counter. Using every ounce of strength, she lunged.
And missed.
Her attacker slammed her face-first against the wall. Pain exploded in her cheek, knocking her sick. He grabbed her arms and pinned them above her head. He smelled of garlic, booze, and stale sweat.
“You’ll remember this position from last time.”
She heaved violently. Every inch of her body crawled with revulsion and disgust as she realized who had her. That was the smell—his cologne, buried underneath the other more prevalent scents.
Her mind screamed out in agony. No! Not again. She would not let him do this to her again.
She tried to breathe through the panic, but like a snowball, it built from deep within her. Sweat drenched her skin, and her heart pummeled against her ribcage. He managed to trap both her wrists in one of his large hands, and he slowly rubbed the other up and down her spine.
“Have you missed me, Laurella? Missed how hard I made you come last time? You like it rough, don’t you, cara mia? Well, don’t worry, because that’s what you’re going to get.”
He licked the back of her neck, forcing a repulsive shudder from her. She tasted vomit at the back of her mouth.
“I think about our night together often. But then you had to ruin everything by lying! You destroyed my life, but I’m a patient man. I bided my time, and when my opportunity came around, I took it.” He was panting. Her stomach lurched from the stench of his breath. “I was hoping to toy with you for a bit longer, but then you sent those thugs after me.”
Stay calm. Keep your wits about you. You’re no match for him physically, but you’re smart. Think your way out.
“What thugs?” she said, playing the innocent. “Alberto, please?”
“Please what? Please don’t hurt me? I’ve waited four years for my revenge. Your pretty-boy American won’t be interested in my little Italian whore by the time I’ve finished.”
How long had she been home? Twenty minutes? Calum wouldn’t get there in time. Acid burned her throat, but she forced her body to relax, to stop fighting him—to make him think she’d yield and give him what he thought he was owed.
“Please let me go so we can do this properly. I can make you feel good, Alberto, but not like this.”
He hesitated, his grip loosening from around her wrists. “Don’t play games, Laurella.”
“I’m not. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed you until we met again. You’re right. Calum is no match for you.” The words scored her heart. Please forgive me for what I’m about to do, il mio amore.
“Then why did you just lunge for that weapon? Why send those thugs to scare me off?”
“I didn’t know it was you,” she said, thinking on her feet, praying she’d be able to go through with what she needed to do. “I thought I was being attacked and reacted like any woman alone would do. And I don’t know anything about any thugs. Maybe it was Calum. He’s crazy jealous of our history.” She wriggled against him, hating herself, hating him for what he was forcing her to do. His erection pressed against the crease of her bottom, and her stomach reacted violently. She gagged, but fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice.
She sucked in a deep breath through her nose to calm the oncoming nausea. “I’m glad you’re back, Alberto. I was a stupid girl back then. But I’m a woman now. A woman who knows what she wants. And she wants you.”
He trembled with what she assumed was pleasure then dropped her arms and spun her around. His mouth crashed down on hers, his stubble tearing at her tender flesh, his tongue almost choking her as he thrust it inside her mouth. She urged her body to comply and her mind to switch off.
She pressed lightly a hand to his chest and pushed. When he drew back, she forced a smile. “Slow down. There’s no rush.” She caressed a hand down his cheek. “Let’s go into my bedroom where we’ll be more comfortable.” She added a coy smile followed by a girlish giggle. “I might even let you tie me up.”
His lecherous gaze raked over her, and he licked his lips. He took one step back. It was all the room she needed. She lunged for the knife. Her fingers closed around the hilt. She spun around, holding the blade out front, her hands trembling, even though she tried so hard to still them.
“Don’t come near me,” she said, tears dripping down her cheeks and blurring her vision.
Vorino recoiled in shock, but he recovered quickly. He sneered. “You’re not going to hurt me.”
“I will if you ever touch me again,” she cried, “I’ll do it.”
His eyes narrowed, and then he lurched forward. He grabbed her wrist, shaking t
he limb hard, trying to get her to drop the blade. But she held on. With everything she had, she clutched the hilt, her only chance at survival, because if Vorino violated her for a second time, it would kill her.
She formed a fist and swung her other arm backward then hit him in the face with as much force as she could muster. Pain shot through her hand. She screamed, hoping one of her neighbors might hear and come running.
He closed in on her. There was a struggle. Laurella fell backward. Vorino tumbled on top of her. She hit her head on the floor and felt herself go woozy. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out.
They wrestled. As the last vestiges of strength left her, a sharp pain sliced through her side, and then a warm wetness spread across her abdomen. He was heavy. So heavy. She couldn’t get him off. He gurgled deep in his throat. Laurella reached a hand between them. When she brought her fingers up, they were covered in blood. She didn’t know whether it was hers… or his.
She heaved at his chest. He rolled to the side. And then she saw it. The kitchen knife sticking out of his abdomen. His eyes lolled back in his head, and a rattling noise came from his chest.
Laurella stared, frozen in shock. There was so much blood. It pooled beneath his body. Thick, dark, gloopy. He was dying. She knew it, but instead of rushing to help, to try to stem the loss of blood, she watched as the life drained out of her tormentor.
She’d killed a man. And she would pay.
Chapter 31
Calum exited the elevators, excited at the thought of the evening ahead. Laurella had mentioned going to see the play Miss Saigon several times before she’d rushed to her father’s aid. She’d been under so much stress for so long, and he wanted tonight to be special, so he’d bought the best seats in the house.
The elevator doors had barely closed when a scream reached him. He set off sprinting. That scream had come from Laurella’s place. He rattled the door handle of her apartment, but it didn’t open. Scuffles and thudding came from inside.
“Laurella!” he yelled, slamming his shoulder into the door—once, twice, a third time. The wood creaked and splintered, and the door sprang open.
The scene that greeted him was like something out of a slasher movie. Laurella was propped up against the wall nearest the kitchen. She was in her underwear, the lower half of her body covered in blood as well as smears of red on her arms and chest. To her left was a man with a knife sticking out of his abdomen.
“Jesus, baby, what happened? Are you hurt?”
The man’s face was staring vacantly at the ceiling. Vorino. A swell of anger built up inside him. He fell to his knees beside Laurella. She had an empty stare that scared the shit out of him. He checked her over. She seemed to be unhurt, which meant the blood was Vorino’s.
He gripped her arms and shook her slightly. “Laurella, look at me,” he demanded.
She didn’t respond, her eyes firmly fixed on blood splatter that had painted the wall.
“Laurella!” He shook her again.
She turned her head. “He’s dead,” she said flatly. “I killed him.”
Calum’s heart squeezed. If that bastard had hurt her, he’d kill him all over again. “What happened, beautiful? Talk to me.” Her vacant stare scared the shit out of him.
“I don’t know how he got in. I locked up. I know I did.”
Riddled with guilt, he cursed. He’d meant to mention her crappy locks to Cole and get him to send one of the experts over from work to fix them, but it had slipped his mind. Fuck. It was all his fault.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked, terrified of the answer.
She shook her head.
Thank God.
“I’m going to call Cole.”
“No!” She gripped his arm. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
He recognized the signs of shock. Her pale, clammy skin, rapid breathing, and enlarged pupils were all giveaways. He pulled her against him and kissed her hair. “You’re not going to prison. This is America, sweetheart. He broke in. All you did was defend yourself. Cole will sort everything out, I promise. But I have to call him.”
He eased his cell out of his pocket and dialed his brother. When he answered, Calum gave him a very brief rundown.
“I’m on my way,” Cole said. “Sit tight, and don’t touch anything.”
Calum hung up. He got to his feet.
“Where are you going?” Laurella asked, her tone panicked.
“To get you a robe.”
He went into the bedroom, returning with a bathrobe. He wanted to bathe her but didn’t dare in case forensics needed to take swabs. He wrapped her in the robe. Her whole body shuddered and trembled, but with some encouragement, she leaned into him.
Cole arrived fifteen minutes later, Draven in tow. The two of them took one look at the scene and then over at Calum.
“We have to call it in,” Cole said.
Within minutes, Laurella’s apartment was swarming with officials. Detectives questioned her, and forensics took their swabs. Laurella answered quietly but fully. Cole promised to take her down to the station the next day to make an official statement. The police bagged her clothes in an evidence bag, including the robe Calum had dressed her in when he’d found her, and then they were told to leave.
Calum found another robe which he swaddled her in. He packed her an overnight case, and then took her back to his place. She hadn’t said a word on the journey home in the back of Cole’s squad car.
Calum left her sitting on his bed while he turned on the shower. He glanced at his watch. Two in the morning. She must be exhausted, but he couldn’t let her sleep with that filth’s blood all over her.
He walked back into the bedroom and gently eased her to her feet. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He slipped off her robe and quickly took off his own clothes, then climbed into the shower with her. She stood with her head down as he washed every trace of blood, every trace of him from her body.
Once clean, he dressed her in one of his T-shirts. He combed the knots from her hair and then he dried it. Throughout the whole process, Laurella didn’t speak. She looked like a lost little girl. His heart clenched with sorrow for her, while his anger burned.
He drew back the covers and helped her into bed then climbed in beside her. He rested her head on his chest and curved his arm around her shoulders. It took an age, but eventually, her breathing evened out, and as exhaustion took over, she fell asleep.
Calum, though, lay awake, his mind racing as he went over the last few hours. She’d said Vorino hadn’t hurt her, both to him and the police, but the fact remained that he’d found her almost naked. What had gone on in those minutes she’d been alone in the apartment with that bastard that she had chosen not to share? He had to know. He couldn’t bear the thought of Vorino’s hands on her.
Eventually, he fell into a fitful sleep. When he awoke, he was lying in an empty bed. Fear shot through him, and his body shook.
“Laurella?” he called out, scrambling out of bed. He’d half tugged on his jeans when she appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, a toothbrush in her mouth. She held up a finger then disappeared back inside. He sank onto the bed as his legs gave way.
She was back a moment later. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“Are you okay?”
She shrugged. “I’ve had better nights.”
He held out his arms and was relieved when she virtually threw herself at him, a very different response from the previous night. “I’m so sorry, Calum.”
“For what?”
“For zoning out on you.”
He grinned. “Zoning out?”
She returned his smile. “Looks like I’m becoming more American by the day.”
“I knew we’d wear you down.”
She laughed then. It was brief, but he’d take it.
He cradled her jaw. “Baby, I know what you said to the police, but I’m more worried about what you didn’t say. Please talk to me.”
Her face fell. �
��He was going to assault me again. So I played along.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
She covered his hand with her own. “I couldn’t beat him physically, so I made him think I wanted him.” Her head dropped, her gaze fixed on the floor. “I kissed him. It disgusted me, but I did what I had to do to survive.” She hitched one shoulder. “I’m so sorry if you think I’ve betrayed you.”
If that bastard wasn’t already dead, I’d fucking kill him.
He gently nudged up her chin. “I couldn’t love you more.”
Chapter 32
After a long day spent at the police station where, as Calum had promised, she hadn’t faced any charges, they headed over to Calum’s place. Laurella opened the door that led down to his living quarters, but Calum put out a hand to stop her.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, frowning.
He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “I’m so goddamn proud of how you dealt with what’s happened. You’re my hero. I’m in awe of your strength, your courage, your guts. I’m so lucky you chose to be with me.” She opened her mouth to interrupt, so he placed a finger over her lips. “I know I can be an ass sometimes, but I’m working on it. I’m in this for the long haul. Nothing you could do would make me not want to be with you. But I need you to promise me one thing.”
She held back on a bite of anxiety that twisted her gut. “What?”
“You will always trust me enough to share what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours. I know you find it hard to share sometimes, but you need never be that way with me.”
Her vision blurred, and she nodded. “I promise.”
He curved his hands around her face. “I love you. So fucking much.”
Her heart almost burst with adoration for this complicated man who, over the last few months, had tested every single one of her limits. Despite the painful and tempestuous start, their future held only happiness.
With her hand firmly in his, Laurella headed down the familiar stairs at Jax’s hotel. At the bottom, she found the whole Brook family waiting. Well, except for Nate. The youngest Brook brother hadn’t been seen since that one night she’d met him.
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