Sinking into warm water feels good on my back. I make sure the water can’t get higher than my chest.
I’m all alone . . .
Again . . .
My mind shifts to Luca, and I wonder if he knows where I am. Does he miss me?
Every time I think of Luca stroking my hair when I lay sick on the couch, Davie’s face shatters the memory. My heart races as sobs tear from my throat. I thought I was dead . . . I knew I was dead.
It’s not fair! I think as my lower lip quivers, tears streaming like a river down my face. I don’t even care.
When I’ve finished shedding a thousand tears, I take a deep breath and feel better. It’s amazing how letting it all out helps, at least a little.
When I climb out of the tub and towel off, I’m surprised to see clothes in the closet and in the chest of drawers. There isn’t a lot: T-shirts, sweatshirts, jogging pants. I have my dirty underclothes with me that can easily be washed.
Grabbing a plain grey sweatshirt, I pull it over my head, and then put on a dark blue pair of jogging pants. When I walk back to the living room, Agent Cummings . . . Zack, is sitting on the white leather couch.
“Feel better?” he asks, a magazine in his hand.
“A little.” No need to lie. This is a terrible situation. Three years of not living and I still got caught.
He closes the magazine. “Would you like something to eat?”
“No, thanks.” I sit down in the chair opposite Zack, a glass coffee table separating the two of us. “What happens now?”
“We wait until the trial. I don’t think we’ll need you to testify, but the Diaz family might blame you for Davie’s death.”
I lean back in the chair as dread pools in my gut. “For how long?”
“Until the trial?”
“No, how long do I have to be in protective custody?”
Zack sighs, then rubs his forehead before admitting, “At least until the trial ends.”
I glance around the cabin again and know this is my new home for a few months. Not that I want to be here, but I tried it my way and it didn’t work. My only options now are to pick up and start over in a new city with a new name, or wait it out and go back to New York, back to my friends, back to Luca.
“How did you find me so fast?”
When he averts his eyes momentarily, I’m on high alert. I’ve trusted men in the past, sort of, and I’m not inclined to trust wholeheartedly right now. Not after Matt.
“Mr. Damonte told us you had been taken, gave us a picture of the guy who kidnapped you. We instantly knew who he was and who he worked for.”
Luca told them. Luca told them so he knows I didn’t just leave without saying goodbye. A weight lifts from my shoulders and I breathe a little easier.
“Can I call him? Let him know that I’m okay?” I need to hear his voice. His arms are the only place I’ve ever felt safe.
Zack is shaking his head while he says, “No, I’m sorry. There are no phones, and no Wi-Fi here. Even if there were, they’d be off-limits.”
My heart hammers in my chest. No Wi-Fi? Seriously? What does he expect me to do for . . . “How long until the trial?”
He hesitates . . . again. “I’m not sure.”
I cock my head to the side. “How about a guess.”
He shrugs, then opens the magazine again. “Maybe six months if we’re lucky.”
I jump to my feet. “Six months? Six months? You expect me to sit here with nothing to do for six months?”
Blue eyes shoot to mine, almost as if he can’t believe the outburst. But what does he expect? My entire world has just been turned upside down.
“It may not take that long. And we don’t have to stay in the cabin the entire time. We can go out.”
Slack-jawed, I ask, “How can we go out? Won’t that make me an easy target?”
He lets out a long slow breath. “No. This is not a designated safe house. It actually belongs to a buddy of mine who is out of the country right now. This is a tourist town and very easy to hide in.”
He sits on the couch with his right ankle resting on his left knee as he turns the pages of the Bow Hunting magazine. I don’t know if he’s a hunter, or if that’s the only magazine in the cabin.
My anger abates slightly. “Okay, then.” There’s no rebuke if we’re allowed to go out. It sounds more like we’re on a really long vacation.
I study the man I will be living with for the next six months. He’s handsome with his sandy blond hair, deep blue eyes, and strong jaw sporting two days’ worth of stubble. He’s very easy on the eyes, not that that matters.
One last glance at Zack and I head to the kitchen to see if there is any wine. Not that I expect there to be.
Sitting next to the refrigerator against the wall is an unopened bottle of Apothic Red. My eyes narrow as I grab a glass from the cabinet, pop the cork, and pour the glass half full before heading back to the living room.
“What are you not telling me?” I plop down on the chair and take a sip of wine.
Zack looks up with his eyebrows pulled close. “Nothing, why?”
“Let’s see.” I tick off the facts with my fingers. “You found me very quickly at Davie’s house. I can’t have any contact with anyone. You know I prefer tea, and there is a bottle of my favorite wine sitting in the kitchen.” I take a sip and stare suspiciously at the man in front of me. The wine tastes good.
“Should you be drinking that? I don’t think you should mix pain pills and alcohol.”
“I’m not. I haven’t taken any pain pills today.”
He closes the magazine and sits up a little straighter. “What was that red liquid in the pill bottle?”
I feel my checks burn red from embarrassment. It was a harebrained idea to begin with, and to have to tell someone about it . . .
“You didn’t answer my questions.”
“What was in the pill bottle?”
It’s a stare off, neither willing to concede first. I take another sip of wine while he patiently waits, his gaze never leaving mine. Finally, I look away first and answer.
“Nothing. It was just a stupid plan I came up with.”
Zack leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. “Tell me.”
He’ll probably think I’m stupid, but what does it matter?
“I was at work one night when this guy left his medicine behind. I had every intention of returning it to him, but it slipped my mind.” I take another sip and continue. “When Matt . . . Alex kidnapped me, the bottle fell out of my purse and lodged under the driver’s seat. My hands were tied, but after a while I managed to grab it and hide it in my bra.”
I swallow hard and mask it with a sip of wine. I hate admitting to this crazy idea. After a brief silence, I take one more drink and finish the story. “I decided that I would kill Davie, or myself if I couldn’t find a way to escape the hell I knew would come. I used a paperclip and poked a hole in the end of the gel caps, knowing that if I got the opportunity to slip the liquid into his drink, it would bottom his blood pressure and he would either pass out or die. With that much medicine, I was betting it would kill him.”
I take another big drink to keep from grinning. I know it was a stupid idea, but I was desperate. And the look on Zack’s slack-jawed face and his incredulous round eyes almost makes me want to laugh. “I never got the chance,” I say with amusement, “because the FBI saved the day.”
After a few stunned moments, he asks, “How many pills were in the bottle?”
“I think twenty-seven.”
He frowns and says slowly, “Twenty-seven days of high blood pressure medicine. I’d say it would kill an ogre.”
“I doubt that, but maybe a normal-sized man. But to actually pull it off was a problem I hadn’t figured out yet.” I take another sip of wine, and after licking my lips, I ask, “So how does this protective custody thing work? Do I stay here alone, or does someone stay with me?”
Again, he hesitates. “I’ll stay here with y
ou.”
Maybe I’m wrong, but this doesn’t feel like it would be kosher. Not one girl shacked up in a cabin with a FBI agent. Shouldn’t there be at least two? Maybe even a female FBI agent present?
“I’m getting another glass of wine. Want one?”
“No thanks.”
I stand. “Suit yourself,” I say as I head back to the kitchen. Something isn’t right. I feel it deep inside, and after what happened with Matt, aka Alex, I need to keep my guard up.
Zack
When Brylee heads to the kitchen, I let out a slow sigh and rub my forehead. She’s suspicious, and why wouldn’t she be? Apothic Red. I shake my head in aggravation. She once mentioned that it was her favorite, so when I called ahead, I ordered some for her. Stupid mistake . . .
Brylee walks back in with a glass more than half full. Her world’s been turned upside down and I wish I could help her. I want to be Altruist and listen to her complain about how tired she is. How she doesn’t want to go a club with her friends. But I can’t. Not now.
She gently lowers herself into the chair. The silence is deafening. I watch as she downs her glass. Her eyes grow heavy, and it doesn’t take long before she’s slumped over on the arm of the chair, snoring lightly.
I push up from the couch, scoop her up in my arms, and carry her to her bed.
Gently raking her hair away from her forehead, I gaze down at her delicate face. “It will get better. I promise.” Then, softly, I close the door when I leave.
The next morning, she walks in wearing a baggy pair of jogging pants and a faded blue T-shirt. Her hair is in a messy bun, no makeup, and she’s scratching her nose.
“Good morning.” I hand her a cup of hot tea.
Her narrowed eyes briefly catch my glance as she takes the tea. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” I turn briefly and grab my coffee before leaning against the counter. “What would you like for breakfast?”
“Cereal’s fine.”
“That’s not breakfast, that’s a snack. How about bacon and eggs?”
“I’m not cooking.”
“No worries, it’s my treat.”
“Okay then.”
It feels almost normal to cook for a lady while she sits in here with me. This must be how couples feel who work 9-to-5 jobs. Not that we’re a couple, far from it. I glance over my shoulder and grin when I see her cupping the cup of tea with both hands.
With the bacon and eggs on the plates, I set one down in front of her while I sit with my own.
“What would you like to do after we eat breakfast?” I take a bite of bacon and wait for her to answer.
“I don’t know.” She takes a bite of eggs, and then after she swallows, she suggests, “How about we take a walk.”
“That sounds good to me. It’s a perfect temperature outside for fall.”
We finish eating and I clear the dishes while she heads to the bedroom.
After brushing my teeth, I strap a holster around my ankle and grab a light jacket. Back in the living room, Brylee is standing there waiting.
She smiles when she sees me walk in. Her silky hair is down, and she’s also wearing a light jacket.
“Ready?”
“Yes,” she says excitedly.
I hold the door open and then follow her outside. The colorful leaves crunch under my boots as we walk a trail that looks well used by deer.
She’s quiet, walking alongside me with her hands in her pockets.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing really.”
I wait. If she wants to talk, she will. But I won’t push.
“It’s just . . .” She sighs loudly. “It felt like I had just started to live, and now I’m back in hiding again.”
“You’re talking about the club owner?”
Her glance is suspicious again. “Him and my friends. I didn’t have many, but I liked them.”
“You talk as though you won’t see them again.”
“How can I expect Luca to wait six months for me when we didn’t make a commitment to each other?”
How can I offer comfort when I know she’s right? Women never wait for me when I’m gone for so long. Days get long and nights get lonely. Eventually they find someone to fill the void and the empty bed that’s left behind.
“And you know I won’t have a job when I get back.” She quickly looks down, but it’s too late. I’ve seen the tears in her eyes.
“Brylee.” My hand snatches her wrist, halting her steps. When she looks up, my heart breaks. It’s unprofessional but I don’t care. I pull her into my chest and wrap my arms around her. “I’m so damn sorry.” What else can I say?
She wraps her arms around my waist. “It’s not your fault.” I hear her sniff as she leans her head against my chest. “It’s just my life, and most of the time it sucks.”
With one hand on the back of her head, the other wrapped around her shoulders, I try to give her comfort. I hold her for a few minutes in silence and then say, “Most people think their life sucks.”
“They do not.”
“Yes, they do. Everyone has something that makes them miserable.”
“What about you?” She leans back, and I look into her glassy blue eyes.
“Everyone except me. My life’s perfect.”
She swats my chest and laughs. “I don’t believe you.” She sniffs, then wipes the wetness from her face.
We start walking again. It’s about sixty-five degrees, the sky is clear, and the silence is peaceful. Occasionally a bird chirps in the distance.
“Look.” Brylee points to something in the distance.
“It’s a squirrel.” We watch as it runs up a large tree.
“I know what a squirrel is.” She shakes her head and grins.
“Have you ever been hunting?” I ask as we keep walking.
“No, but I noticed that you kept reading a hunting magazine.”
“My dad used to take me when I was little. Now I rarely have time to go, but I still enjoy the reading.”
We walk for a little longer, and then turn around and head back to the cabin. I like it up here. With her.
Chapter Eighteen
Ariel
Walking outside feels nice. The clean air clears my jumbled emotions as I watch the squirrel run up the tree.
“Winter will be here in a couple of months, maybe sooner.”
“Probably.”
Zack is an enigma. He’s here to protect me, but it feels different. There are little things he says that sound familiar, and yet I don’t know him. Not really.
Back in the cabin, I kick off my shoes and then slide out of my jacket.
“What do you want to do?” Zack asks as he does the same.
“What is there to do but watch TV?”
“Read. Play a game.” He shrugs.
“TV for now.”
“Okay.”
He sits on one side of the couch while I take the other. “Can I have the remote?”
I see his hesitation, but reluctantly he hands it over. I laugh. “It’s not that hard, is it?”
“Maybe,” he admits. “What are you looking for?”
“House. Ever heard of it?”
“Yes.”
I search, but it’s not on. I do find Untold Stories of the ER.
“I guess this isn’t so bad,” he says as he leans back and stretches his legs out in front of him. He’ll get used to it.
~~~~
I’m sound asleep in the bedroom when the door bangs open and in steps Luca. Seeing him makes my heart pound. His eyes are flaming with desire as he storms over and pulls me into his strong arms. My entire body is electrified, my breathing labored.
“Ariel, I’ve missed you.” His lips crash down on mine. His tongue is seeking as his moist lips move over mine. My own lips part, giving him entrance, needing this kiss as much as he does.
I need to tell him I’ve missed him. That I didn’t leave without saying goodbye. When I lean back and open my eyes, Da
vie is staring down at me with evil eyes, his face twisted in hate-filled delight. I open my mouth to scream, but he covers my mouth. My eyes are as wide as saucers, and my heart stops beating when I see the knife poised above his head, ready to stab me.
I bolt upright in bed and scream. I’m soaked in sweat. Zack throws the bedroom door open and storms in, a gun in his hand. His eyes quickly scan the entire room before he rushes over and pulls me into his arms.
“I’m here,” he reassures me. My breathing is still erratic, my fear palpable. “It was just a dream, Brylee.”
“I know. But it felt so real.”
“Come on,” he scoops me up in his arms and carries me to his room, “you can sleep in here with me tonight.”
“I need to change clothes first.” But I don’t want to be alone. It’s dark outside and I keep seeing Davie standing there waiting on his chance.
“I’ll find you something.” Zack sits me down on his bed before rummaging through some drawers. “This should work,” he says as he holds up a t-shirt. It’s large and long. Perfect.
“Thanks.”
Sitting with my arms folded across my chest, I’m still trembling when Zack tenderly touches my forearms, urging me to stand. When I follow his lead, he grabs the hem of my shirt. “I’m only helping, nothing else.”
I quickly shake my head and let him pull the shirt up and off me. He doesn’t hesitate as he slides his clean one over my head. “Climb in.” He holds the bedcover up.
I slide into his bed, and he climbs in after me. When he holds his arm out, I scoot over and lay my head on his shoulder. It takes a while, but I finally fall into a dreamless sleep.
The light from the window casts streaks across the walls. My eyes flutter open and the first thing I notice is the steady beating of a heart underneath my head. My arm is draped across his bare chest, my leg across his legs. Zack.
I slowly disengage my body from his, a little embarrassed to be in such a compromising position.
“Good morning,” comes his low, masculine voice.
“Good morning.” With my head on my own pillow, I turn on my side and face him. “I’m sorry I freaked out last night.”
“It would be more worrisome if you didn’t have nightmares. Especially after what you’ve lived through.”
The Secrets We Keep Page 15