Her eyes widen and it’s obvious she’s terrified. She jumps when the door whisks shut behind her. I move up to her, past her, and discreetly lock it, pocketing the key.
“What are you—” she gasps, staring up at me as I tower over her.
“You and I need to have a word. And I don’t want to be disturbed.”
Her eyes dart around the office, no doubt taking in the other two doors, one leading deeper into my mansion, the other to a bathroom.
“I came here of my own free will. You said you weren’t gonna hurt me!”
“That was over two fucking years ago, Miss Jackson. Things change. People change.”
She pales and takes a step back. I don’t follow.
“I have a child. Please!”
“State your business. Why are you here?”
Her mouth opens and closes a couple of times. “Please unlock the door.”
“No.”
“Are you—”
“Focus,” I snap.
Her cheeks turn red in an instant. “I can’t focus on anything except you locking me in!”
I purse my lips as I regard this little hellion, then I grab her arm and pull her with me toward my desk.
“Hey!”
“Sit!” I push her down on a chair. “Explain yourself. Simple words will do. I’m not a morning person and I’ve only had one fucking cup of coffee, so get to it.”
She presses her lips into a thin line, staring back at me in defiance. Something dark wells up in my chest. Her baby might be family, but Kerry isn’t as safe as she thinks she is. I lean in close, nose to nose, making her recoil.
“Look, young lady, I’m no stranger to hurting a woman. I’m no gentleman, that’s not how I’ve built my business. Where the fuck did you go? Why did you disappear? Why have you come back?”
Her eyes dart between mine and the door. I grab the back of her neck and force her to meet my gaze. “Forget about the fucking door,” I growl.
“I ran,” she whimpers. “I ran for my life. I thought Christian was going to kill us!”
I let her go and straighten as I look down on her. “I told him to stay away. I told you you were safe.”
“Well, he didn’t stay away!” she cries. “And you didn’t tell me I was safe. You told me he was out to get me and that you couldn’t control him!”
I narrow my eyes. Did I? Maybe I did. “You could have come to me.”
Kerry scoffs. “Sure. Right back into the claws of the man who wanted me dead.”
“And yet here you are. Again.”
“Because I’m stupid,” she says, more to herself than to me.
I have to agree.
“Where did you go, Kerry? We looked for you.”
“I moved to Chicago.”
“I know that.” My impatience grows, crawling in me like slithering snakes. “Go on.”
“Canada.”
I twitch and stare at her. I don’t believe in coincidence. “Where. In. Canada,” I say slowly through clenched teeth, heat rising in me, a cloud of rage. If she has something to do with Christian’s situation, I swear to all that’s holy—
She stutters, no doubt sensing that I’m ready to pounce. “A—a little town called Middlebro.”
“You fucking bitch!” I snarl and grab her by the throat, pushing her back against the backrest.
Kerry cries out and clutches at my hand, but she’s like a mouse in the hands of a lion and has no leverage. Her face turns beet red. “Please,” she mouths. “It’s Christian, he’s—” She swallows, wincing with pain.
I snatch back my hand and she darts up, taking several steps back, toppling the chair. “You’re all the same!” she cries, tears streaming down her cheeks, her hand flying to cover the reddened skin on her throat. “You’re all assholes.”
“I have never claimed to be anything else, Miss Jackson. And neither has my nephew, or anyone else in my family. We haven’t gotten to where we are by being cuddly. Now what about Christian.”
“He’s dead!” she screams. “He died!”
I go still, processing what she’s saying. What makes her think that? She is very close to having been right, but how is she involved? How did Christian end up with double-sided pneumonia, a temperature through the roof, his body filled with fluids and his organs close to shutting down?
“Go on.”
“He found us,” she whispers as new tears drip down her cheeks.
“And?”
Kerry chews on her plump bottom lip. Her nostrils flare as she stares at me. “He… Cecilia got ill, and we had to walk to get her to the hospital. He fell into a ravine, a river, and disappeared.”
“Why did you walk?”
“Everything went wrong! There was a storm. The road was blocked.” Her eyes turn distant, as if she’s not in the room anymore. “We had to.” Her last words are nothing but a hoarse whisper, filled with pain.
“So let me get this straight. You fled from nothing, settled in fucking nowhere, my nephew found you, and because of you, he’s now dead? Did you kill him? Push him? Did you find a convenient opportunity to get rid of your stalker?”
Her green eyes widen. “N—no! It wasn’t like that!”
“Then what was it like?”
“That’s none of your business!”
I close the distance between us in a fraction of a second and push her until I slam her into the bookshelf, a little bronze statue of Athena falling to the floor with a loud bang, my hand around her throat again. Her pulse thuds like mad under my palm, and fear oozes off her making my cock twitch, waking the monster in me that always lurks under the surface.
“Sweetheart! You have made it my business.”
“Can’t— breathe,” she gasps.
I ease a little on the pressure, but she’s going nowhere until she explains. “Well?”
She swallows, and her soulful eyes nearly do me in. A part of me just wants to caress the tears off her cheeks and let her get on with her life. I do see the appeal. I have no problems understanding why Christian got so obsessed with her. She’s strong, intelligent, brave, and so fucking beautiful she almost burns my retinae, and she doesn’t even know it.
“I don’t know how to explain it.” Her lower lip trembles.
“Keep it simple.”
“He found me. We fought. Then we didn’t, and…”
“And?”
“We almost found… something… again. Between us. Then Cecilia got ill, we had no way of getting out of there unless on foot. He fell. I didn’t hurt him, but I feel like I’m to blame anyway.”
“Funny, that’s how I feel too. If you hadn’t run, none of this would have happened.”
Her expression turns fearful. “I didn’t know.”
I remove my hand, take a step back and regard her.
Her hand flies up to her throat. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“Where’s Cecilia.”
“With my mom.”
“And where is Mom?” I ask silkily.
She stares at me and snaps her mouth shut.
“Never mind. We’ll find her.”
Kerry darts forward and grips my shirt. “No, please! Don’t hurt her!”
I take her little hands and bend her clutching fingers until she is forced to let go. I keep her hands in mine, holding tight, a little too tight from the wince on her face.
“Miss Jackson. From now on you stay in town. If I come knocking, you open, if I tell you to come here, you’ll get your fucking ass here, if I tell you to jump, you jump. Are we clear? And no hiding the child. She’s a Russo. You’re nobody, but young Cecilia is family, and the child of my nephew. That means a lot to me.”
She’s not nobody. A kid needs their mother. I was forced to learn that a long time ago, first when I lost my own, and then again when a surprise pregnancy gave me David. Kerry doesn’t need to know that, though. I prefer a healthy dose of fear.
“You’re a monster,” she whispers.
I laugh. “You’ve learned.”
/>
She bows her head, her shoulders slumping in defeat. It’s an unexpectedly saddening sight, watching the fight drain out of this strong woman.
“Can I go?” she asks weakly.
I throw out my hand toward the door, following her as she takes a few quick strides toward it, so eager to flee.
“I’ll be in touch,” I say as I pull out the key and unlock it.
“I bet,” she mutters.
There it is again, her defiance. Temporarily down, but not defeated. I like it.
When she’s left, I realize I forgot to tell her Christian is still breathing. Well, she’s probably relieved he’s gone anyway, so I’ll leave it the way it is.
Kerry
My back crawls as I leave the mansion. The guards follow me with their eyes as I kick my scooter alive and take off down the street. Right around the corner, out of sight, I stop, tear off my helmet and throw up in the bushes by the side of the road, chills running down my spine, sweat breaking out on my forehead. I feel like I’ve escaped death by a hair’s breadth.
If I felt like a prisoner before, hiding from Christian, fleeing, having no life, it’s nothing to what I feel now. I’m just a puppet in Salvatore’s game, disposable. He said it. I have no choice but to do what he says, or I’ll be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. My stomach clenches and a bitter taste of bile lingers in my mouth. Shuddering, I push the helmet back on, hop on my Vespa and fly down the long, winding road as if I have the devil on my back, tears streaming down my cheeks.
I miss Christian so much. I think I could have talked to him. I think he would have listened, stayed on my side.
Or am I wrong? Am I brainwashed? A victim of Stockholm Syndrome?
When I have locked my door behind me, I run up the stairs and curl up on my bed, images rushing through my head. Christian when we first met, his black eyes glittering, his touch hot. Christian with death in his eyes. Christian becoming a father, transforming into the true meaning of the word. Christian being a mobster, a murderer, a close relative to the monster I just escaped.
I should be glad he’s dead, but it’s not what my heart screams during sleepless nights.
My heart weeps in sorrow.
Chapter 14
New York
Christian
It’s all too familiar. The sharp smell of antiseptics, the low beeping from monitors, oxygen tickling my nose. I have no idea where I am, except that it’s obviously a hospital. I fucking hate hospitals! Every breath feels as if something squeezes my chest, as if something pushes back every time I inhale. An attempt at a deeper inhale makes me cough until I almost throw up.
“Mr. Russo. You’re finally awake.”
The voice is female with a slightly husky quality to it I recognize. It’s not her, but close. Too close.
“Kerry?”
“I’m Rhonda, I’m a nurse here at Mount Sinai.”
“How…” I open my eyes and take in the dark-skinned woman in her pink scrubs as I fight for a breath. “How long?”
“You’ve been here a little over three weeks.”
“What? That’s not…” I gasp, “possible.”
“I’ll go get the doctor. They’ll be happy to know you’re with us again.”
I grip her arm, shocked at how weak I am, much much weaker than I was after being shot a couple of years back. “Nathan. Get me Nathan.”
“Your brother?”
I nod.
“Will do, Mr. Russo.”
The door whispers shut behind her and I’m left alone. I try to feel my body, feel what’s left of me. I wiggle my toes and then lift a leg experimentally. It falls back, heavy as lead.
Kerry. Cecilia.
With the images of them everything else comes rushing back, the water, the numbing cold. Panic claws at my chest as my heart speeds up, tightening it impossibly, choking me.
The doctor is tall, his thick salt and pepper hair neatly combed back. He’s got an impressive tan in the middle of winter and something about him screams avid golfer. He looks slick, superior. I dislike him immediately.
He drones on and on about the state I’m in, the state I’ve been in, what they’ve done, but I zone out.
“Did you get hold of my brother?”
The doc snaps his mouth shut and throws an annoyed glance at Rhonda as she darts to my side. “He’s on his way here, Mr. Russo.”
I close my eyes. “Good. Leave me alone, please.”
“Bro.”
“Where the fuck were you?” I grit out.
“Aww. Got lonely? Me and Ang have taken turns sitting here, watching you sleep. It’s boring as fuck.”
“Angela’s been here?”
“Of course, she’s been glued to your side, dude, but she’s got classes and shit she’s gotta attend, or she’ll lose her position.”
“Kerry? Cecilia?”
Nathan goes serious and my heart plummets. “It’s like the two of you are connected. Kerry and your kid resurfaced in San Francisco yesterday. She just popped up at Salvatore’s. He almost freaked. And there’s not much that rattles that bastard.”
Everything stops. Inside me. In the room. There’s a low hum from the air conditioning, and that’s all I hear.
“Chris?” Nathan’s voice penetrates from afar.
“She’s alive? The baby?”
“Seems that way,” he says.
“And back home?”
“Seems that way.”
“Did she mention me?”
“Luci didn’t say shit, just that she was back.”
I’m so fucking stupid. Why would she wanna see me? Why would she ask for me? She must think I’m dead, and maybe she’s better off that way? Maybe, this time, I really should stay away? I’ve paid my dues, redeemed myself, I know that. If I seek her out, I’ll just fuck everything up again, because that’s me, that’s what I do.
“Nate.”
“Yeah?”
“Get me out of here. Now. I can’t stay a minute longer; I can’t breathe in here.”
Nathan regards me a long while, then he nods. “I’ll take you home.”
I grab his arm. “Your home. I can’t… I can’t go back home like this.”
My brother, one of two, maybe three people in the world that I trust, grabs my hand. “No worries, dude. I got you.”
“Don’t tell Luci I’m awake.”
Nathan frowns. “He probably knows already, Chris. He’s footing the bill. They’re all his staff. Look, I don’t know what you think will happen, but he’s been worried sick.”
“Him? Worry?” I manage to grit out a laugh, which I regret when it sends me into a coughing fit that never seems to end.
“You’re fucking lucky to be alive.” Nathan tsks and shakes his head.
“Lucky,” I say bitterly. “It’d have been better for everyone if I’d died.”
“Dude! Don’t go fucking depressed on me, or I’ll leave you here to rot. Get yourself together and get up on your legs. You’ll be fine.
I scoff, but snap my mouth closed. He’s right. I’m wallowing. I don’t wallow, I don’t feel, I act.
I’ll bounce back. I’ll be fine.
Kerry
‘I visited the center today.
There was only one person I recognized, an elderly lady I haven’t talked a lot to. Chloe hasn’t been seen or heard from in a long time. It hurts. She was, along with Mom, the one I really longed for. They think she moved, but no one knows a forwarding address.
I called Gayle. She screamed. I’m gonna have to tell them something and I’m petrified. I’ve been away from people for so long that I don’t know how to get back into socializing. But somewhere deep inside it feels amazing that they’ll take me back even though I pushed them away.
I feel blessed’
The doorbell chimes softly. I throw the journal in a drawer and rush to the door, then I hesitate, terrified. But these are my friends. I’ve known Gayle since I was a teen for God’s sake. I unlock and open and two beauti
ful women trickle into my hallway, wine bottles in hand, large pots with flowers and plants, bags with cute children’s clothes from expensive stores, chitter-chattering.
Gayle has changed so much I can’t believe it. Gone is the mousy, shy girl. Her hair is jet black, short and spiky, her eyes are sooted, there’s a piercing in her eyebrow and another in a nostril. She’s got a half punk-vibe going on.
Rebecca is as vibrant as ever, and she looks happy, she’s always a ray of sunshine, but there’s something about her, about them both really, that makes me itch to ask what the hell happened because these last two years have transformed them. Maybe it has changed us all?
I didn’t know how much I had missed people. Friends. It just hurts that Chloe has left and I wonder if that’s got anything to do with me. My insides freeze when I realize that she knows secrets she shouldn’t have ever heard about. What if she’s in danger? Or worse?
“We need wine! Lots of wine. You still drink, right? Red or white?” Rebecca holds up two bottles.
“Red,” say Gayle and I with one mouth.
Rebecca laughs, a light, tinkling sound, as she disappears into the kitchen. “I knew I could count on you guys,” she half-shouts over her shoulder.
“So, you’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do, girl.” Gayle turns to me. “And where is this little miracle we’ve heard of?”
“Oh…” I didn’t consider they’d want to meet Cecilia. “She’s with Mom for the night.”
“Kerry! You’re the first of us to have a kid, a very secret kid, and you hide her away?”
My mouth goes dry. In a way she doesn’t know how right she is. Except I can’t hide anymore.
Rebecca comes back and puts a glass of wine in each of our hands and we salute each other. I down more than half the glass in three quick swallows, then I nod toward the dining table, a big heavy oak piece in a rustic style.
“I’m… not hiding her, I just— just wanted it to be us, uninterrupted,” I stutter.
Rebecca aims her glass toward me. “Next time, girl.”
I nod. “I promise.” My heart swells at her words. Next time. There’s gonna be a next time? They want to see me again? I haven’t taken anything for granted. I’ve been the worst friend imaginable. And daughter. And mom.
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