Double Down

  I would never have put the pieces together myself. With the drugs, the pain, my surgery … it had taken me every minute of the last two days just to become coherent. Laurent had been the one to follow Claudia to the station, and keep us abreast of the updates. While she had refused to say anything in the questioning, they’d managed to piece together enough details to create a narrative.

  I didn’t need her confession. I could still hear her voice in my mind, threatening me with quiet confidence. A shiver went through me, and I pulled my blanket higher on my chest.

  Dario’s pocket hummed and he reached in and brought out his cell. “It’s the detective. I need to take this.”

  I nodded and relaxed back in the bed, watching the television, the broadcasts giving us a colorful spread of Instagram photos that looked nothing like the cold-hearted bitch who had almost stomped a knife through my leg. Claudia had disappeared two years ago, and the photos were all pre-abduction. Claudia, in a nurse’s Halloween costume, making a hang ten sign and sticking out her tongue. Claudia, hugging a giant Rottweiler, sunglasses on, her hair in knots on either side of her head. Claudia, with a group of blurred out faces, outside a club.

  I had been in that warehouse for a half-dozen-hours. Claudia had been gone for two years. How could I say what that sort of time did to someone? How could any of us understand the atrocities that must have happened to her to change her from a normal girl to a monster?

  I watched a new addition to the show, an opinionated reporter who spewed theories. Vegas Suites had been one of Hawk’s properties, acquired the summer before Claudia disappeared. She’d been a front desk agent, and had been known to be a party girl, one who experimented in drugs when she wasn’t working.

  Somehow, the news about Dario and my affair hadn’t hit the press. My kidnapping was being viewed in the same thread as the other victims—the snatch of a young woman who could be trained to do Hawk’s biding.

  The reporter pointed to the camera, his voice growing emphatic.

  “Imagine the level of brainwashing that Robert Hawk was capable of. He takes Claudia Vorherz out of her daily life—imprisons her—and then has her, less than two years later, doing his hunting for him and continuing his legacy, even after he’s gone!”

  He spread his palms and looked at his cohost.

  “Think about that. We’re talking about our generation’s Charles Manson. Claudia Vorherz blew up that warehouse without any knowledge of who was still inside. She detonated that structure and could have possibly killed a dozen law enforcement officers, not to mention the remaining prisoners—women just like her—and she did it anyway. Burned the place to the ground with no concern over human casualties, and with her primary focus being on framing Janie Bostic for her crimes. If she didn’t learn that directly from the evil that is Robert Hawk, you tell me where she learned it. Because I’m damn sure she didn’t learn it slinging back beers with her friends…”

  The anchors chatted on, but I couldn’t listen to them any more. I reached for the remote and muted the volume. Closing my eyes, I tried to rest my mind. I could do this. One day at a time.

  Dario came back in and turned off the lamp. “Her hearing is tomorrow. She still hasn’t said anything.” He folded down the railing on the side of my bed.

  I raised my eyebrows at him with a laugh. “What are you doing?”

  “Scoot over.” He gently nudged me over to the edge of the bed, the thin mattress sinking as he climbed onto it.

  I laughed harder as his elbow knocked over my juice box, his leg getting tangled in the remote cord, his exasperation growing. Then he was pulling me to him, his body curving around mine, and the fit, with us front to back on our sides, was perfect. I relaxed, my mind pulling away from the reporter’s emphatic statements and focused on the deep sounds of his breathing, the soft nuzzle of his mouth against the back of my neck.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  I shifted, moving closer to him. “I’m just worried that we’ll never get away from her. With all of the businesses Gwen owned with her father—businesses that you now own? How will that work, if Claudia inherits his piece of them?”

  He carefully sat up, rolling me onto my back so that he could see my face. “I don’t want you to worry about that, about her. She’s in jail. She’s going to be in prison, for a very long time. I’ve got everybody I know working to guarantee that.”

  “But one day, she’ll get out.” I met his eyes.

  “And we will be fine when she does.” He leaned forward and gently kissed me. When he pulled away, his face was solemn. “Please believe me when I promise you that it will be okay. I will keep you safe. Us safe. I swear.”

  I sighed. “I believe you.” I softened under his second kiss, then settled back on my side, his body returning into place, the warm comfort solidifying my trust in him.

  “Don’t give up on us,” he said softly, and the request surprised me. We’d survived. Hawk. Claudia. Everything. Giving up? Running? That was the last thing on my mind.

  Love me through the cracks.

  I pulled his arms tighter around me. “Never.”

  Twenty-Nine

  ONE WEEK LATER

  DARIO

  She rolled over in bed and stretched, his white t-shirt huge on her, her dark hair tickling his bicep. He gathered her into his chest and she curled against him, one leg thrown over his, the gauze of her bandage brushing against him. She winced, and he carefully eased her higher, into a position that was better for the wound.

  He couldn’t look at it without wanting to kill Claudia Vorherz. Jail was too good for her. For all they knew, she had been the one to kill Gwen. She could have called her to the suite, posed in a brunette wig as Bell, then shot her the minute that Gwen turned her back.

  “You look so serious.” Bell said, and he lifted his gaze to hers. She smiled and his anger at Claudia, a woman who would spend the next decade behind bars, faded. Bell’s smile did unnatural things to him. Her voice, still husky with sleep, brought his arousal to life.

  He redirected his thoughts away from anything sexual and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Good morning.”

  She yawned, the gesture so big that he could see a filling peek out from one of her molars. “Good morning.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  She thought about the question for a beat. “I’m starving.”

  “But, no pain?”

  She made a face. “Nothing too bad. Got time for breakfast before you leave?”

  He winced at the thought of going to his office, diving back into the thick of things. Being away for a week would mean massive issues. In the hospitality business, you had to be continually vigilant or you might as well give up.

  He kissed her. “I’ll always have time for breakfast for you.”

  She smiled again, and a part of his broken heart healed.

  * * *

  THE INMATE

  Claudia yawned and listened to Bertha. The woman had an issue. Her brother’s girlfriend was pregnant, that skank slept with half the mother-fuckin’ city, and because she’d been kissing up to him the last two weeks, he thought the baby was his, and was going to put his name on the birth certificate when it came.

  It’d been four days since her brother had called and the issue hadn’t changed. Bertha sat on that stupid cot all day and obsessed over it. She didn’t understand. The more anger you gave someone, the more power they had over you. The more obsessed you grew, the more vulnerable that obsession made you.

  Claudia had learned that lesson the hard way. It was why she was sitting here, a number stitched across her right breast. She had obsessed. Robert had obsessed. They had both let emotions dictate actions and it had led to this.

  It was a new day. Going forward, everything would be done the right way. She would take the lessons that Robert Hawk had taught her, analyze their potential, and learn from his mistakes. Her father wasn’t a God. Her sister wasn’t a saint. Claudia wasn’t infallible. br />
  “It just ain’t right.” Bertha shook her head. “You know she gonna get child support out of this. Eighteen years’ worth. And he ain’t got a pot to piss in.”

  Claudia tuned the woman out. Ninety women in this detention center, and she had gotten lucky with Bertha. Some of these bitches were crazy. Bertha was just dumb.

  She opened the notebook and flipped through the pages the attorney had given her, scanning the long list of assets. Robert Hawk had been very generous to his two daughters. Given the untimely death of Gwen, Gwen’s portion had automatically fallen to her.

  Four hundred and three million dollars’ worth of assets. She circled the ones she wanted to keep and starred the items that could be sold. Her eyes drifted over the values and she contemplated what to do with all of that money.

  The answer, of course, was easy. First, get her freedom. Then, ruin Bell and Dario’s lives.

  Getting her freedom would require some patience. The best legal team money could buy. Expert psych consultants who would attest to her temporary insanity. A well-negotiated plea deal that would reduce her kidnapping and attempted murder charges down to the minimum sentencing standards. Sure, she’d spend time in prison. Eight to ten years at minimum, according to her attorneys. She did, after all, aid in the imprisonment and torture of nine women. She did, after all, kidnap Bell Hartley with intent to kill, then stuffed Janie Bostic in that little concrete vault with plans to suffocate her to death. The evidence, in all of those charges, was irrefutable.

  But no one knew about Gwen. They suspected, they had accused, but there was no evidence. Nothing linking her to the crime. Nothing.

  So, she’d avoided a murder charge. And for the other stuff, she’d get a new home in a comfortable prison. Maybe even a posh psych ward, though there wasn’t a more lucid mind than hers within a thousand miles.

  And after a few years, with perfect behavior and annual appeals, she’d be paroled. Free. Free and filthy rich. Free and well prepared to ruin Bell and Dario’s lives.

  She closed the notebook and sat back on the cot, hugging the book to her chest and smiling.

  She didn’t even mind the wait. It would give her more time to calmly, coolly, and intelligently prepare. This would not be like before. This time, she would make no mistakes.

  * * *

  BELL

  The hotel was at the quiet end of the city, our suite facing the city. I wore one of Dario’s shirts, the scent of him surrounding me, and stood on the balcony. From this spot, I could see the Majestic, see the tiny dark roof of The House. I heard the faint sound of a coyote, its cry joined by another, then a chorus of soft howls. I felt the tickle of cold air and turned my head, seeing Dario step out, his arms wrapping around my waist.

  “Pretty view,” I commented.

  “It’s not what I’m looking at.”

  I turned in his arms, facing him. Looking into his face, I gently traced over his features. “You look stressed.”

  “I’m not. Not anymore.” He leaned forward and kissed me tenderly, taking his time with it. When he pulled away, I could tell that he had something on his mind. “I hired a CEO today.”

  “Really?” I reached up and worked at the knot of his tie, loosening it. “What does that mean?”

  “It means that I am, officially, stepping away from work.”

  My fingers stilled. “Is that what you want?”

  “I want to spend my time with you. This summer, before you go back to school, or work, or whatever you choose to do…” He leaned forward and stole another kiss. “I want to be here. With you. I don’t want to waste two months looking at fucking revenue reports and a casino floor.”

  I smiled at the thought. “What will we do all summer?”

  “I was thinking about that,” he said soberly, his brow pinching in mock concentration. “We have a jet. A ridiculously fat bank account. Strict orders from your doctors to have as much sex as humanly possible.”

  I laughed and tugged at his tie, getting it loose. “That’s not what I remember them saying.”

  His mouth twitched and he ran his hands up my side, gathering me closer to him. “I thought we’d find a place to live, somewhere without an elevator and parking garage.”

  “That sounds good…” I mused, undoing the top button of his dress shirt.

  “And get you on a beach. Somewhere with turquoise water and a frozen drink. Poolside massages and private butlers.”

  I leaned forward and nipped his neck. “And Alaska,” I reminded him.

  “God yes. Are you kidding? Whales everywhere.”

  I giggled. “That sounds good to me. But no travel right away.” I tugged on his shirt. “This … time with you… that’s all I want.”

  He kissed me softly, then deeper, and the air changed. I dug my fingers in his hair, fought his kiss with my mouth, and didn’t hesitate when he pulled away from me and spoke.

  “Turn around and spread your feet apart.”

  I felt his shoe nudge my inner calf and I acquiesced, letting out a soft exhale when he undid my shirt, skimming the stiff fabric over my shoulders and dropping it to the floor.

  “Jesus Christ, you’re beautiful. Stay just like that.”

  He crouched behind me, running his hands up my inner thighs, one gripping my left ass cheek, the other gently running in between my legs, his fingers playing over and teasing the sensitive flesh there. I sighed out a protest, even as my legs widened, my hands tightening on the railing. Bare against the night breeze, my nipples stood at attention, and when he pushed a finger inside, I groaned.

  “How gentle do I need to be with you?” He bit the back of my leg and I ignored it, his finger starting to pulse in and out of me, his knuckles brushing against my clit with every consistent swipe.

  I pushed my ass out, resting my breasts against the railing. “Not gentle.”

  He didn’t change anything, letting me adapt to the touch, his finger continuing to piston in and out of me, the pleasure building. I moved minutely, brushing the hard pebbles of my nipples along the railing, the cool metal a delicious contrast against the evening heat.

  “Take your time. Enjoy it.”

  I didn’t want to take my time. It was coming, my pussy clenching around his finger, my clit growing heavy and needy, crying out with each brush of contact. I rocked my torso more aggressively, closing my eyes and imagining the railing as a mouth, one on each breast, tongues flicking across the pink tips. He bit me again, and I broke.

  The orgasm cascaded, tremors rocking me, my bud of arousal pulsing with the waves of pleasure. I gasped my way through it, clinging to the railing for support, my legs growing weak, his fingers never slowing, not until every sensation had passed and I reached back, pushing him away.

  He stood, and I turned, stumbling toward him, the tent visible in his pants. Bending slightly, he gripped my ass and lifted me into the air, my legs wrapping around his waist, and he carried me inside, carefully setting me on the middle of the bed.

  Then, he wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t rough. He was perfect.

  * * *

  I laid in bed and listened to the shallow sounds of his breathing, my eyes moving over the luxurious room, so much nicer than anything I ever expected to have in life. I rolled on one side and stared at him, examining his handsome features. The slightly crooked nose. Thick lashes. Strong brow. Full lips. Behind those lashes, were eyes that studied me as if memorizing me. Those lips had uttered words that had brought me arousal, laughter and security. Behind that brow was a calculating mind that had restored an empire and chosen me despite all of the reasons to run.

  I pulled the sheet down, moving closer to him and placing my hand on his chest. Underneath my palm beat a heart that loved more fiercely than I thought possible. A heart that protected those he loved and spoiled me with every beat and chance. I ran my hand over his chest, over a scar that had come from a fight as a Louisiana boy, and moved closer, his arm reaching out, pulling me into his body.

  Even in sleep, he d
esired me. Even in sleep, I felt safe in his arms. I closed my eyes and tucked more tightly into his embrace, allowing myself to fall asleep.

  Epilogue

  TWO MONTHS LATER

  The sun was low in the sky when the first whale breached. I gasped, gripping Dario’s bicep and pointed toward it. He smiled down at me, then followed my finger, the whale’s tail tipping into the air before he settled softly into the water.

  Dario’s fingers linked with mine and he pulled me back against his chest, his chin resting on my head. I lifted my camera and waited, scanning the horizon for another one.

  He squeezed and then released me. “They have photographers. You can just watch.”

  I waved him off, my stomach pressed to the railing, eyes pinned to the waves.

  “Look, a baby.” He pointed to the right and I stood on my toes, swooning a little at the miniature body that crested the surface.

  It was incredible. More than I thought it would be. The crisp air, the sounds, the gorgeous canvas. I sighed happily and glanced over to catch him watching me, a small smile on his face.

  “I’m so lucky to have you.”

  I scoffed, blushing as I looped my arm through his and rested my head on his shoulder. “Stop. I’m the lucky one.”

  “Thank you for dragging me here.”

  I laughed. It hadn’t exactly been easy. He’d booked the tickets and the cruise immediately. But hours before our flight, a pipe had burst in the kitchen of Fat Clemenzas and flooded the slot floor of Ja-Nule. I’d had to rip the phone from his hand and threaten to throw it off the balcony if he didn’t let his managers do their jobs and head to the airport with me. “I’m sure it won’t be the last time I have to toss threats in order to get you on a vacation.”