Body of Trust: A Romantic Suspense Novel

by Jeannine Colette

“So, if you don’t club with members, what do you do on a Friday night?” I ask.

  “The usual.”

  “That’s really vague.”

  He shrugs as he pours a draft. “I do what you do. Drink with friends. Watch movies. Catch a UFC fight.”

  “You’re a UFC fan?”

  “You sound surprised.”

  Something by the entrance of the room catches his attention. He’s talking, yet he doesn’t seem to be fully in our conversation.

  “Are you a fighter?”

  He looks back at me with a confused expression. My question is still lingering on my lips as I wonder if I asked the wrong thing.

  His jaw tightens as he bows down with his eyes closed, almost annoyed with himself. “Do you want another drink?”

  “I’m good.” I hold up my half-filled cup.

  “Right.” He pats the bar top, seeming uncomfortable.

  Uncle Frankie walks up to the bar, and Jesse moves quickly to tend to him. He leans in, and Jesse meets him halfway as my uncle whispers in his ear. Jesse nods, not saying a word. Seeming satisfied with Jesse’s agreement, Uncle Frankie stands up straight and nods with a point to Jesse, who turns around and grabs the phone beneath the bar. While he makes a call, I sit and watch. Uncle Frankie notices me staring and walks over.

  “How you doin’, Amelia?” he asks, closing in on the space where his daughter was sitting a short time ago.

  “Good. Just waiting for Mom and Gia.”

  “Where’s Sienna?” he asks with his arms open as he surveys the room.

  “She left.” My voice rises at the end with hesitation.

  His mouth purses, like he’s displeased by the news. With a slight nod, he walks closer and leans an arm on the bar. The strong scent of his Acqua di Parma cologne wafts in the air. “Let me ask you a question. Is there anything going on with her and”—he thumbs toward Jesse—“the bartender?”

  “Jesse?” I can feel my forehead wrinkling with the surprise of his question. “Not at all. I can tell you for a fact, no.”

  “That’s good.” His mouth grimaces even though he approves of my answer. “Because that would complicate things a lot. Between you and me, I’ve grown fond of the kid, and I’ve been bringing him on board to help with the business a little.”

  I don’t know much about Jesse, aside from the simple conversations we have at the bar, but I’m surprised to hear he might work for my father and uncle.

  “I’m sure he’s a great asset,” I say with a closed-mouth smile.

  Uncle Frankie seems to agree as he pats my hand. “You’re a good one. I told your father we should have taken care of that Buonno kid after he … you know. But his father is a friend of the family. I want you to know I thought a good ass-kickin’ was in order.” The thick gold ring he wears on his pointer finger hurts my hand a little.

  “It’s fine. Thank you, but Anthony isn’t worth it.”

  “You remember that. I have big plans for you. Keep your eyes focused on everything around you.” His words are poignant, so I nod dutifully.

  Jesse hangs up the phone and gives my uncle a nod.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.” Uncle Frankie walks to the back of the room and ushers the men, including my father, into the hallway toward the President’s Room—a conference room meant for closed-door meetings.

  “I didn’t know they were working tonight,” I say out loud.

  Jesse hears me as he pours a glass of wine. “I’m sure it’ll be a quick one.”

  I glance at my watch. My mother and sister should be here soon. And by soon, I mean, in the next twenty minutes.

  “Is your family always as late as mine?”

  Jesse looks up at me while he makes a drink but doesn’t answer.

  “You don’t like to talk about yourself, do you?” I ask despite his silence.

  “Like you, I don’t like the attention.”

  “I can tell. One inkling of a personal question, and you shut down.”

  His lip quirks. “That’s a bad thing?”

  “No. It’s just … never mind.”

  As he brings the drink to one of my aunts on the other side of the bar, I admire his form. He might not like attention, but he certainly attracts it without trying. It’s in his build. He’s tall and lean. He’s wearing a simple black dress shirt and slacks, and yet he looks like he could be on the cover of a magazine.

  My aunt gives him a flirtatious smile as she accepts the drink and then walks into the dining room.

  Jesse and I are now the only two left in the Oak Bar. I finish my drink as he wipes down the counters. With the room empty, I can hear a Michael Bublé song coming from the speakers. I take a deep breath and tap my fingers on my thigh.

  A low laugh escapes Jesse’s throat. He raises a brow at me and then smiles. With a shake of his head, he leans his elbows on the bar and lowers his gaze to mine.

  “What?”

  “Do you play poker?” he asks, and I nod my head. “Everyone thinks the key to the game is in the hand that’s dealt, but the only way to win is to read your opponents’ tells. You, my friend, have many.”

  “Opponents?”

  “Tells.” He smiles. “You’re nervous.”

  I lift my gaze to the ceiling. “There is nothing to be nervous about.”

  He folds his arms across his body and looks down at me, studying my expression. I try to keep a straight face, not giving away how jittery he makes me.

  “Ask me something personal,” he finally says.

  I hold up a hand. “Is this because I made that comment? It’s cool. I didn’t mean to pry into your life—”

  “Amelia.” My name comes out deep and low. “I’m giving you the chance. One question, and I promise I’ll answer.”

  My teeth graze my lower lip as I think about what to ask. I only get one question, so I’d better make it a good one. I shift in my seat as I think about it. A million things run through my head, and yet, for reasons beyond comprehension, I decide on something deeper.

  I lick my lips and take a breath, almost shy as I ask, “What is the one thing about yourself you’ve always known to be true?”

  The light in Jesse’s eyes darken.

  His shoulders drop, as does the tightness in his jaw. I watch as his lips part and his head tilts. His eyes search mine, as if they’re looking for the answer to his question. I hold his stare, entranced by the calming blue in a raging dark sea of hidden intention.

  I never saw it before, but there’s a secret inside Jesse.

  It’s dark, yet it’s not scary. It’s guarded, and still, I feel like he’s screaming it at me, if only I were listening carefully.

  He inhales quickly, and my breath hitches. I hold his gaze, awaiting the answer, knowing what he reveals will not be a lie.

  “I’m a protector,” he breathes. “My entire life, I have known I would do anything to protect the ones I love.”

  My smile lets out a nervous laugh. I lay a hand over my neck and feel my pulse racing beneath my skin. His eyes travel to where my fingertips caress the flesh and then trail down to my collarbone.

  His gaze meets mine again, and I let my hand drop to my lap, gripping the skirt of my dress to keep myself from doing something inappropriate, like kissing him.

  I stare at his lips. They’re perfectly pink and smooth.

  I want to kiss him so bad.

  It’s wrong. The timing, the place … the man. And yet, in this moment, I feel a connection more blistering and hotter than anything I’ve ever known. I don’t even know where he’s from, but I know he’d do anything to keep me safe. That alone is the sexiest quality a man can possess.

  The air is electrified with stilled intensity.

  His tongue darts out and skims his lip.

  My heart races.

  His chest rises, and his Adam’s apple bobs with an intense swallow. He’s as unsure as I am, and yet he isn’t moving away.

  He inches his hand closer to mine. The warmth of
his skin as his fingers brush against my own sends a jolt racing through my body, down to my toes.

  His eyes turn darker, making my skin prickle with excitement. I lean in. We’re inches away, so close that I can practically taste him.

  And then the room ignites with a blast!

  Chapter Two

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  A crescendo of violence and screams erupts from the foyer of Villa Russo.

  Jesse leaps over the bar and pulls me down to the floor. I’m crouched on my knees with my hands on my head as he covers my body with his own, like a human shield.

  The doors to the main dining room are rolled shut with the loud sound of a lock being bolted.

  “What’s happening?” I scream.

  Jesse places his lips to my head and shushes me. “It’s okay, Amelia. Stay with me.”

  He lifts a gun. I have no idea where it came from. It’s silver and shiny, and it looks light in his hand.

  “You have a gun,” I observe with an exasperated breath.

  “Lucky for us.” He aims the weapon and shoots it toward someone entering the room.

  I squeak and burrow into his side. My long, black hair is a veil, shielding me from watching as he lets out a series of shots.

  Pow, pow, pow!

  Still low to the floor, Jesse pulls me around the bar and toward the back wall of the farthest side.

  “My father!” My words are a cry. He’s in a meeting in the front of the building. “I need to get to him.”

  “He’ll be okay.” He stops me from trying to move. “We can’t go that way, or you’ll be killed.”

  “Killed?”

  He doesn’t seem to find any of this as alarming as I do while he pulls me to the opposite side of the bar, where there’s a door to the dining room. He pulls on it, confirming it’s locked. “Fuck!”

  My eyes widen with horror. While I’m thankful everyone inside is safe, this means Jesse and I are trapped in the Oak Bar, dangerously unsafe. There’s no way out, except through the main hallway, and from the sounds of it, a gunfight is happening in there.

  “We’re going to die,” I say through staggered breaths.

  His brows curve in concern, but his eyes are steady as he ignores the chaos of the moment and gives his sole focus to me. “I got you. You hear me? Just stay with me and do as I say.”

  “Lucky for you, I am the epitome of a rule follower, and since I have zero experience with guns, I’m gonna let you take the lead on this one.”

  A small smile tugs on his mouth, which seems odd because this is hardly the time to find my words endearing.

  A bullet ricochets off the wall above my head, and I scream.

  Jesse snaps back into protector mode and leads the way. His hand never leaves mine as we hide behind the half-wall, and he shoots at someone. I say a silent prayer—or ten—until I hear a loud thump.

  “Did you kill him?” I ask in horror.

  “Crawl inside the bar,” he says.

  “No. That’s a cube of death. We’ll be trapped.” I adamantly shake my head as my body trembles with fear, hoping for some other option than to go into the space with no way out.

  “Do as I say, Amelia.” He’s stern, and his jaw is clenched as he looks toward the door to make sure no one else is coming.

  With a huff, I crawl through the opening that leads behind the bar, where the two of us will surely perish like sitting ducks. I see the club phone on a shelf and grab it.

  Jesse pushes it from my hand. “There’s no time.”

  “I need to call the police,” I whisper-yell to him.

  “The silent alarm’s already been triggered. Help will be here soon. In the meantime, we need to get you out of here.” He moves the black rug on the floor, revealing a panel with a round hook. He yanks on it and opens a door. Inside, I can see the top of a ladder that leads down an ominous, round hole in the ground. “Go down there.”

  I eye the ladder for a second before descending. I have no idea where it leads, but a secret ladder that will take us away from gunfire seems like a better option than the alternative. I reach the bottom, and Jesse is on his way down after closing the panel behind him.

  It’s dark down here. And cold. We’re in a storage room. There are kegs on one side with hose lines that run up the wall, and boxes of booze line the other side.

  Jesse tucks his gun into his belt as he walks to a wall where a wire rack is filled with paper goods. He moves it to the side and kneels down to push against the stone a few times until a line in the grout starts to form. He kicks the wall next to the seam, punching in a square-sized hole, perfectly formed and just big enough to climb through.

  “Secret door for the win,” he says and nudges for me to go through.

  I shake my head, refusing to crawl through some random hole in the wall. He gives me an annoyed look filled with urgency. At the sound of heavy footsteps pounding above us, I anxiously get to my knees and crawl through. He follows me, putting the metal rack back and then the square in place, as if no one were ever there.

  It’s pitch-black and eerily quiet. I can hear my own heart beating, and my breathing echoes in the silent tunnel.

  I feel Jesse’s hand on my calf, and I flinch at the unexpected touch. He shifts, and then suddenly, the space is brightly lit by the flashlight of his phone. I have to hold my hand in front of my eyes to protect them from the glare. He points it up and down the tunnel.

  “That way.” He nods in the direction in front of me. “We have to crawl.”

  “Where the hell are we?”

  “Keep moving. Question later.”

  He nudges me, and I let out a grunt as I listen.

  Gunfire raining down on you is scary. Being trapped in a narrow tunnel with no idea where you’re going is downright frightening.

  I let out a whimper.

  “You’re doing great. Just keep going and don’t stop.”

  With his assurance, I crawl for what feels like the length of a football field.

  “Have I ever told you that I’m afraid of small spaces?” I say.

  “Nope. Never came up.”

  “Well … this is me telling you that I positively hate feeling trapped. Elevators, rides where you’re strapped down, windowless rooms, airplanes—”

  “The Grand Canyon.”

  “What?” My tone is exasperated.

  “We were talking a few weeks ago, and you asked where I’d like to travel. I ignored the question, but the answer was the Grand Canyon. If you can picture it, there’s this wide span of clay mountains. They’re red and orange with this golden hue that appears when the sun hits the tops. Over the course of the day, the sun moves over the ridges, lighting up one majestic scene after the other.”

  His visual is helping me maintain my nerves.

  “Do … do you hike?”

  “Going down the canyon is the fun part. If you don’t like to walk, you can get a mule.”

  “You, on a mule?”

  “I said, you could. I can manage it on foot. Sometimes, the pathways are so shadowy, you don’t know where you’re going. Then, the sun hits at the right angle, and it’s brilliantly lit. You see a small stream gurgling over rocks, leading to the Colorado River.”

  “What do you do when you get to the bottom?”

  “Admire the beauty. Have lunch. Go rafting.”

  His calming voice keeps my hands and feet moving steadily.

  “In the Colorado River? I didn’t know you were such a thrill seeker.”

  He laughs lowly. “There are many things you don’t know about me.” With a hand on my foot, he slows me. “Stop for a second.”

  There’s a metal grate on the side of the wall. Jesse hands me the phone, and I point it toward the grate. There are slots just big enough for fingers to fit through. He braces his legs as he grips the metal and gives it a yank.

  It doesn’t move.

  My heart sinks with the realization that we are quite possibly going to die in here.

  His fac
e turns bright red, and his neck bulges. A deep rumble in his throat echoes as he attempts to remove the grate once again. His body shakes with the might he’s exerting. When he lets go, the grate is still on the wall, and he’s breathing fitfully with sweat beading down his temples.

  Despite his two failed attempts, I can see the determination in his eyes. His jaw is set tight as he stares at the grate, mustering up the energy to try again.

  “You can do this, Jesse,” I say with sheer conviction, and he blinks at me in surprise by the encouragement.

  With a nod, he pulls his sleeves up and readjusts his large body. He braces his foot against the wall as his hands grip the grate. With animalistic grit, his body quakes with the adrenaline as he lets out a loud yell, pulling and shuddering, loosening the metal from the wall inch by inch until it pops out, sending him falling backward.

  “Jesse!” I drop his phone and take the metal off of him. It’s heavy as I shove it to the side, careful not to cut him with the sharp edges. My hands roam over his head and shoulders, making sure he didn’t hurt himself in any way. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” He sits up, and I’m relieved.

  “You did it!” I cheer. I have no idea where this new path leads, but it feels like a small victory in this aimless escape plan we’re on.

  His chest puffs with heavy breaths. “Keep going.”

  I nod and take his phone with me as I climb feetfirst through the opening.

  Jesse is diligent at covering our tracks, putting the grate back in place behind us. When it’s secured, he stands up straight and stretches his arms up over his head, arching his back with the motion. We’re now in a large tunnel, big enough for a small car to drive through.

  He holds his hand up to his face, and I realize I’m flashing the light right in his eyes.

  “Sorry.” I move the direction of the light. “Where do we go now?”

  He points straight ahead. “Only one way.”

  I look around and realize he’s right. “Is now a good time for me to ask if you know where we’re going?”

  With his hands on his hips, he looks over at me and smiles. “Yes, Amelia, I know where we’re going.”

  His skin is glistening from sweat, and his eyes are piercing. Yes, I know this is hardly the time to appreciate how handsome he is, but I just had a near-death experience. I’m sure this is some crazy side effect. A defense mechanism from thinking about the reality at hand.