Like You

by Rachel Leigh

  I take a sip of my water and see Malcolm walk in over the rim of my crystal glass. My eyes sweep over him lazily, as I dig into my Risotto.

  A kiss is pressed to my cheek, as he leans over from behind me. I cringe at the brush of his freshly shaved chin against my skin. He continues around the table and takes a seat opposite me.

  Chef hurries to his side with his entrée, and Malcolm orders him to pop the champagne and fill our glasses.

  “To new beginnings.” He holds his glass in cheers. I ignore his gesture and tip my glass back, drinking it all at once.

  The disturbing look on his face has my thoughts tangled. My heart suddenly feeling faint, I realize immediately what he’s done.

  He got to me first.

  30

  Knox

  When my eyes open again, she’s gone. The empty space where her warm body pressed against mine, now cold.

  “Good Morning, sunshine,” Axel says, from the chair next to my bedside.

  “I see Mom has taken her security measures down a notch.” I don’t even recognize the coarse voice that comes from me.

  “Yeah, about that. It seems I wasn’t as smooth as I thought getting Claire in here last night. Your doc ratted me out. I got an earful, before she finally caved and said I could visit.”

  “She knows about Claire?” I try to scoot myself into a sitting position, but the pain in my ribs makes it impossible.

  Axel jumps to his feet. “Lay back, I’ll tilt the bed.”

  “I’m trusting you not to crush my body,” I joke, as he presses the button on the remote moving me up slowly. “So, out with it. What’s going on? You obviously found her. Is she back for good?”

  Before last night, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see her again. I know Axel and his dad said they’d try and find her, but I wasn’t holding onto much hope. It looks like they pulled through for me.

  “It’s all so much more complicated than any of us could have envisioned. I’ll fill you in when you get out of here. Right now, you need to focus on healing.”

  “Yeah, when’s that?” I rest my head back and close my eyes.

  “Your mom said that if they can get you up and walking, maybe tomorrow. You’ll probably have to show that your bowels are still working first. You know how that shit goes. No pun intended.” He tosses his hands up with a grin.

  “No jokes, my ribs can’t handle them right now.” I hold my breath, trying not to laugh. “In all seriousness, thanks for being here.”

  “Wouldn’t be anywhere else.” He gives my leg a squeeze, and I cringe in agony, just to get a rise out of him. “You fucker.” He swats me this time.

  “I feel so damn guilty that Mom and Isaac had to postpone the wedding. She acts like it’s no big deal, but I can tell she’s disappointed.”

  “Yeah, all of this sucks big time, but we just have to roll with the punches at this point.”

  A soft knock at the door has Axel getting up. He moves to the side, as my nurse walks in. I watch his reaction and follow his eyes straight to her ass. Looking over at me, he waggles his eyebrows. Leave it to Axel to get a boner from my nurse, while I’m laying here with broken ribs and staples in my head. It wasn’t as bad as I thought when I woke up. I’ve never woken up in a hospital before, so my first thought was that I had some limbs amputated. Although the first thing I did was make sure my dick was still intact. I’d rather lose both legs than that big guy. I don’t have much memory of last night, but I was told, it should slowly return. I hope it never does. From what Mom said, I took quite the beating. Not only did he kick my ass, but my ego is at an all-time low.

  I do remember Claire being here, though. I remember her touch and the words she spoke. She said she sees me in her future, and those words meant everything to me. I’ve never felt this way about a girl before. There is something about her that brings me to life, as if our souls speak to each other, without even opening our mouths. It’s a connection I cannot explain, but the best way I could try is with one word—love.

  Axel stays back, while she checks my vitals. “How are you feeling?” she asks, as the cuff around my arm tightens.

  “Ehh, I’ve been better.”

  “Your pain medication is probably wearing off at this point. I’ll get some more in your IV after you eat. Are you feeling up to that?”

  “Depends. Is there a nice juicy burger on the menu?”

  She hands me a menu and tells me she’ll be back after meals have been passed out.

  “Not bad. There is a burger on here.” I nod with a forced frown. I toss it on the bedside table when I remember that Claire’s car was found abandoned yesterday. “Alright, I’ve gotta know that she’s safe. Why’d she leave her car at the gas station?”

  “Later.”

  “Now!” I demand.

  “Just know that she’s safe, and this is all coming to an end real soon.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean? What needs to end? Us?”

  His arms cross over his chest, as slow strides bring him back to my side. “Some shit went down. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  “No, let’s not leave it at that. If something happened to her, I need to know, dammit.” I slap the side of my balled fist onto the bed.

  “Alright, I’ll tell you. But, you have to promise me that you aren’t gonna try and go hero on my ass and run out of here with a tube stuck in your arm.”

  “Just tell me.” I heave a sigh, trying to make it seem as if I’m calm and collected, when, really, I’m nervous as hell to hear what he has to say.

  “You being here. This was no accident. It’s my fault.” There is disappointment in his tone, disappointment in himself.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, this isn’t your fault. You’d never set me up for a fall.” I sweep my hand through the air.

  His head drops, facing the floor. “It wasn’t intentional. I had no idea that my new partner was dirty. He had this planned from the minute he reached out to me. I was just too naive to see it—too damn hung up on making this whole fight club something big.”

  I make an attempt to stand up, but give up immediately. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I grumble, “who the hell is this guy?”

  He lifts his head and looks at me. “He’s Claire’s husband.”

  “Husband?” I shake my head. “No, that’s impossible.”

  “He’s not just her husband. He’s also a very dangerous man.”

  As if nothing else could surprise me about the events that have unfolded up until this point—I’m speechless.

  Claire is married.

  31

  Claire

  I lift my head, just enough, to see his face, then drop it back down onto the pillow. “I agreed to lunch, and this is what you do to me?”

  The chair he’s sitting in, next to the bed, screeches across the hardwood floor, and then he’s standing at my side. “It was the only way. You were planning to leave me, again. I needed more time.”

  “So you drug me and cuff me to a bed?” I twist my wrists that hang from the headboard. “You think that this will make me stay?”

  The phone.

  I try to look down at my shirt to see if the phone is still there. Panic is written all over my face.

  “Looking for this?” He holds up the phone that Anderson gave me. “You had a couple missed calls on here. Who are your new friends?”

  “Give it to me.” I begin to squirm and tug at my arms, to no avail.

  With his sinister eyes glued on mine, he drops the phone to the floor and digs his shoe into it, the sound of the cracking screen sends waves of dread through my core, before he gives it a swift kick and sends it sliding across the floor. “You are the devil,” I grit through my clenched teeth.

  “And you are the devil’s accessory.” His fingers brush over my cheek in a featherlike motion.

  I jerk my head to the side. “You won’t get away with any of this.” I close my eyes and hold them tight, hoping that he will just go away out of sheer
boredom with me.

  Anderson promised me that nothing would happen. Jorge is watching the house, and he knows exactly what and who to watch for. Unless Malcolm got to him. He found the phone; I’m sure he looked into every single number saved in there.

  I open my eyes, and he’s still there, pacing the floor back and forth, as he rubs his chin, deep in thought.

  “Can you at least untie me?”

  “Not happening, Sweetness.” He shakes his finger at me. “I know you better than that, and I heard what you did to Leo, cutting him up and locking him in the Sedona house.”

  “Who the hell is Leo?”

  He doesn’t answer me.

  “Are you talking about Zeke?” It has to be. I haven’t been fighting off any other criminals and locking them in a room in Arizona.

  He gives me a once over and continues to walk the length of the room and back.

  “That guy who beat up Knox, I’ve seen him before. Who is he?”

  “Haven’t you learned by now that asking too many questions gets you in trouble?”

  “What I can’t figure out is how I’ve never seen Zeke, or Leo rather. If you two have been working together for this long, I should have known about it.”

  He stops at the end of the bed and grips my ankles in his hands. “You know nothing about my work. You only know what I let you see.”

  “I know your business with women. Have you forgotten that I was a pawn in your game?”

  “You were never a pawn; you were always my queen.”

  This may be my only chance to soften him up. Well, as soft as a heart made of coal can get. Even if he does tell me something, I have no proof. I have nothing to hand over to Anderson that would hold up in court.

  “I did love you, Malcolm, that is until you slowly became a reaper that was just out for my soul.”

  “I was good to you, Claire. Then you had to go and whore around with the lawn boy. That was your first mistake.”

  “What was the second?”

  Like a tiger hunting his prey, he creeps up my body from the end of the bed. Moving slowly with hunger in his eyes. “Leaving me for that schoolboy.”

  I turn my head to the side and close my eyes, as his face inches closer to mine. “He can never make you feel as good as I did. He can never give you what I can.” His lips graze my neck, sending my heart into a frenzy. Not because it turns me on, but because it repulses me.

  “You’re right.” I turn back to face him, as he lingers over me. “He can never fully satisfy me. Only you have that ability.” In one breath, his mouth crashes into mine—hard and domineering. I let it happen. I let him think that I want this. “Make love to me, Malcolm.” I exhale the words into his mouth.

  His hand sweeps up my shirt, grabbing my waist tightly, as he grinds himself against me. “You want this?”

  “More than anything.” I lie, arching my back. “But, not like this. I need to touch you, feel you.” I bite my bottom lip, as he looks at me in search of manipulation.

  “You bitch,” he grumbles, “you think I’m stupid?”

  “Malcolm,” my voice is calm, “it’s always been you. The others were just there to fill the void of you, but they never came close to making me feel what you do.”

  “Prove it to me.”

  “How can I do that?” I shake my arms to draw attention to the fact that I can’t do much of anything.

  He gets on his knees, in an upright position, and begins taking off his belt. My stomach turns, as he pulls it through the loops and tosses it to the side of the bed. When he untucks his shirt, I catch a glimpse of his gun in the belted holster.

  “No,” I shake my head, “I’ve been gone for seven months. I don’t know where that thing has been.” I spit in disgust. I will lay here and rot away the days of my life, before I ever put his dick in my mouth again.

  “You’re worried about the last seven months; yet, you never cared during our five years of marriage?”

  “Don’t be stupid, Malcolm. I knew you were cheating on me. That’s part of the reason I felt no remorse when I returned the favor.” The calmness in my voice is gone, just like that. I can’t pretend with him. I won’t let him have his way with me, and I certainly won’t go down without a fight. “Now, untie me, dammit. This rope is digging into the same burns from the last time you had me tied up.”

  He leans over my body and messes with the ropes. For a moment, a rush of relief washes over me. Until, he jumps off the bed and walks out of the room without a word.

  I lift my head and shout, “Where are you going?”

  With my head still up, I’m able to spot the shattered phone on the floor.

  I need that phone.

  I fall back in the bed in defeat, once again, feeling helpless. I don’t even know what I can do at this point. He’s not going to confess anything to me. He’s not letting me go. I can’t contact Anderson or Jorge. My only option is to lie here and hope that someone comes to my rescue.

  “I did what I had to do to protect myself.” I cry into the sleeve of my cardigan.

  “Have you ever thought about the way things played out that night?” Jorge asks, “how persistent Mr. Rossi was that you take that trick from that John, even after your history with your calls.”

  “I just assumed he wanted me to give it another go. That I may have changed my mind.”

  “Think about it, Claire. Your first time, you kicked the shit out of the John, and I had to step in to stop you from killing him. The second time, you stood the John up and went and got ice cream at Beverly Gardens, like it was no big deal, which I was totally okay with. Then there is the third time, when you paid ten-thousand extra dollars to the guy to pretend that he had the time of his life, which myself and Malcolm later found out was a lie. It was apparent that you were not the girl for this job; yet, he still sent you to another call, at the risk of losing everything.

  “You think he planned this?”

  “Malcolm Rossi always has a plan. Why else would have kept me behind and given you his gun that night? He’s never sent any of the girls with guns. He always sends the guard to stand outside the door.”

  I push my chair back and stand quickly. “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense. Malcolm does intensive research on every man he sets us up with. He knew this man wouldn’t take no for an answer. He set me up, knowing that I would kill him, before I let him have his way with me.”

  “That man's blood is not on your hands, Claire. It’s on Malcolm’s. You may have been the one to pull the trigger, but he put the bullet in the gun.”

  “He told me he’d protect me, that he’d never let me go to prison. It was all so he could marry me. So he could have me to himself. “

  “Bingo.”

  No matter what I do, Malcolm is always ahead of me. He knows exactly which moves I will make. I was a fool to think I could get any information from him or help put him behind bars.

  When all hope is gone, he walks back in the door with duct tape in his hands.

  “Are you planning to tape my mouth shut this time?” I close my eyes—the fight in me is gone.

  His hands grab a hold of my legs and begin wrapping my ankles continuously.

  “Seriously!”

  “I couldn’t find any more rope, so this will have to do.”

  “Yeah, because it would be so easy for me to run away with my hands tied to the bed.” My pitch rises with each word.

  “Would you just calm down.” He walks to my side and pulls a knife out of his pocket. The last time someone did that, they freed me, and then, they instantly regretted it.

  To my surprise, it happens again. My hands drop one by one, and I expel a pant of relief.

  “You want to touch me, touch me,” he leans forward and whispers in my ear.

  “You’re pretty trusting aren’t you. I could kill you with my bare hands right now.”

  He sits down on the side of the bed, and my eyes shoot to the outline of his gun. “You could, but you wouldn’t. Regardless of
how much you think you hate me, I know that somewhere in here is love for me.” He pats my chest.

  “At one time, I thought I did love you. It turns out that I loved the idea of you. If you would have stayed the man who you were in the beginning of our marriage, then falling in love with you may have been a possibility. Instead, I drowned in my hatred for you.”

  “I can be that man again.” His fingers caress the sleeve of my arm. “You are the only person who has ever made me feel, Claire. I don’t just want you; I need you.” He sweeps my hair behind my ear. “Let me prove it to you.”

  “I’m not sure that you can.”

  Malcolm knows what a loose cannon I am. He doesn’t make good decisions, but he’s also never reckless. He’s well aware that I see his gun. He knows that phone sits within reach now that my hands are free.

  What he doesn’t know is that the rope he just untied me with is sitting underneath my right hand.

  His lips meet mine, and while I want to vomit inside of his mouth, I kiss him back, running my hand across his leg, back and forth, in a circular motion, while I wrap my hand in the rope. Once I’m sure that I have a good grip, I bring my other hand up to his neck, pressing his mouth harder against mine, as I moan out a breath.

  His lips move down my chin, to my neck, and finally, to my breastbone. Subtle kisses that would have turned me on five years ago. I bunch up the remainder of the rope in my hand, so that none of it hangs freely. Just as he lifts my shirt up and begins kissing my stomach, I place the rope behind his neck and then in a quick motion, I wrap it around the same way he wrapped my ankles—continuously and with motive.

  “Your first mistake was trusting me.” I tug tighter, as his hands try and find my neck. When he doesn’t get a grip, he reaches for his gun.

  “Your second mistake was doubting me.”

  After a good ten seconds of struggling, I’ve gained the upper hand.

  Now, I know that I could kill him right here and now, but regardless of my past, I do have a conscience. I took a life once, with no regret, but it was self-defense. The man tried to rape me. I’d do it over and over again, if given the opportunity. He was a sick son of a bitch who preyed on young women.