connection between him and my brother seems too coincidental. They
could have been in school together. But what about the empty offices at
Evernight?
The pinching sensation in my forehead begins. I speed up and head
for the hotel, certain I need to get out of public and fast. I manage to get to
the hotel elevator when I see a flash of my brother’s face. So clear. So
perfect, when I’ve not been able to picture him for years. That’s how
powerfully Jared’s ring has impacted me.
Leaning on the wall, I will away the image of my brother I’d
otherwise welcome, praying I make it to the room without collapsing. My
hand shakes as I swipe the key across the security panel and then shove
open the door. I make a beeline to the safety of the bed and lie down. My
cell phone rings but the spots are before my eyes and I see only darkness.
“Where’s your mother?”
Lying on the bed on my belly, a book in front of me, I jump at the
unexpected, unfamiliar harshness of my father’s voice and find him in my
doorway. “I don’t know. She left a while ago.”
“How long ago?”
“A few hours.”
“Be more specific, Amy. You know I like details.”
The sound of an engine and tires on gravel signals her arrival and he
is already gone, stomping down the stairs. I rush to the window, parting the
curtains to see him yank her out of the car and shove her against the door. I
gasp and press my hand to my mouth. My father has never touched any of
us. Their voices lift, loud enough to echo through the air, and be heard by
neighbors, but I cannot understand the words no matter how hard I try.
I blink against black and white dots, and a wave of nausea overcomes
me. Throwing
away the blankets, I rush to the bathroom and go down on my knees
in front of the toilet. A pinching sensation pierces my head and everything
goes black again.
I cough against the smoke, flames licking at my doorway, and there is
nowhere to go.
“Amy!
“Mom! I’m in my room!”
“Stay there. We’re coming for you.”
I wait, and the sounds of the fire eating away at wood have my bones
rattling. “Mom?”
Nothing.
“Mom?”
She screams and I suck in smoke at the horrific, blood-curdling sound,
coughing with the impact and trying to cry her name.
“Mom!” I finally manage. “Mom!”
She’s still screaming. And screaming. “Mom!”
“Amy!”
My brother’s voice rips through the hallway and the hell I am living,
bringing with it hope. “Chad! Get Mom! Help Mom!”
“Listen to me, Amy,” he shouts, but all I hear is my mother, still
screaming.
“Mom! You have to help her. Chad, help her!”
“Listen the fuck up, Amy. I can’t get to you. Go to the window.”
“Mom!” I shout.
“Amy, damn it, go to the window or you are going to die.”
Die. My mother is dying. I want to go to her but the flames climb
closer, inside my room.
On wobbling legs, I go to the window.
“Are you at the window?” Chad shouts.
“Yes. Yes.”
“Open the window and jump.”
I do it. I open the window and look down into the darkness below.
“It’s too high.”
“You were a gymnast for years.”
“Who quit because I was afraid of heights!”
“Jump, Amy, and make it count. Do it.”
My mother is no longer screaming. My mother is—
“No!” I shout. She can’t be dead. “I can’t jump. I can’t jump.”
“Jump, Amy. Jump now or I will come through the flames and die
trying to get to you.”
I gasp. “I’ll jump. I’ll jump.” I climb out of the window and I look back
toward the flames and then forward. I hold my breath and jump.
Chapter Twenty
“Amy. Amy. Wake up. Please, baby. Wake up.”
I blink through a sticky sensation on my face. “Liam?”
“Yes. Thank God. You scared the hell out of me.” He grabs a towel
and presses it to my head.
I focus on the red stains on his light gray t-shirt. “I’m bleeding?”
“You hit your head and cut it open. We need to get you to the ER.”
I grab his arm. “You’re here. How are you here?”
“Yeah, baby, I’m here and I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
Any reply I might have had is lost to the roll of my stomach. “Oh,” I
gasp. “I’m going to be sick.” I grab for the toilet and Liam holds my hair
back and manages to keep the cloth on my head as I embarrassingly throw
up. “I really don’t want you to see me like this.”
“Nonsense. Can you hold the towel to your head so I can get you
some clothes?”
“Yes.” I take it from him. “I’m good. You’re sure I need stitches?”
“One hundred percent.”
I squeeze my eyes shut against the sound of my mother’s screams
echoing in my mind.
And I hear Chad calling my name. Amy. Amy. But I wasn’t Amy then. I
was Lara. Why was he calling me Amy? Is my mind trying to tell me
something, or am I so removed from my past that there is nothing but Amy
left? Jump. Jump now.
“Amy.” I jump at Liam’s hand stroking down my hair. “Easy. Are you
okay?”
“Yes.” But I’m not. I want to tell him everything. I want to tell him
more than I want my next breath, but that nightmare has reminded me
how very real the danger I am in is, and I am not clearheaded enough to
decide what that means for him. For us. “I’m dizzy.”
“I’m guessing you have a concussion. Can you stand up so we can get
you dressed?”
“Yes.” He helps me to my feet and I feel pathetic when he has to
practically put my shorts on me and then tie his shirt at my waist. He drops
sandals at my feet and I slide into them. He puts the toilet seat down. “Sit.
Let me call for a car service before we head downstairs.”
Ten minutes later we exit the hotel and the doorman pulls open the
passenger door of a black sedan for me. My head is spinning and my
stomach is queasy and Liam helps me into the car.
“Amy. What the hell?”
Liam and I both turn to find Jared standing there. “Did he touch
you?” He glares at Liam.
“You son of a bitch, did you hit her?”
“No!” I exclaim. “No. Jared, I fell.”
“Back the fuck off,” Liam growls. “I would never touch her, but I will
you.”
“Amy?” Jared asks, and he seems sincerely worried. “Did he touch
you?”
“No. I told you no. He wasn’t even here when it happened. He just
flew into town and found me passed out.”
“Let’s go,” Liam orders me. “Blood is seeping through the towel. You
need those stitches.”
“I’m fine, Jared, but thank you.” I slide into the car and Liam follows,
shutting us inside.
He taps the seat and gives the driver directions. I have never wanted
to block out the rest of the world as I do right now. He turns to me and his
eyes are dark shadows a
nd turbulence. I expect him to ask about Jared but
he doesn’t.
“You aren’t going to ask about him?”
“You’re hurt. It’s not time for fifty questions.”
“I thought the game was twenty questions.”
“I have fifty but I won’t ask tonight.”
But he wants to, and now that the miles are no longer between us,
I’m not letting Jared get there instead. “I ran into him at the coffee shop
today, but other than that this is the first I’ve seen of him since that night at
Earl’s.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You wanted to.”
“Yes. I wanted to.”
“I’m glad you’re here. You didn’t tell me you were coming back.”
“I didn’t want to promise something I couldn’t make happen. I
wrapped everything up as I’d hoped early today. The woman my father put
in the intensive care unit was moved to a regular room and I took care of all
of her medical expenses and set up a trust fund for her daughter.” He
grimaces. “My father also moved, from jail to rehab.”
“You’re a good man, Liam. I don’t know why you doubt that.”
He leans in and kisses me, his voice softening, rough like gravel. “I
couldn’t sleep last night thinking I’d get back here and you’d be gone.”
“I promised I’d be here.”
“And I promised I’d hurry back.” He reaches up and holds the towel
for me. “We have a lot to talk about.”
“Yes,” I agree. “Yes, we do.” And not for the first time, I wonder if
Liam knows more than I think he does.
“Right now, I just want to get you healthy.” He pulls me close and my
hand settles on his heart. It thrums beneath my palm, a soothing melody
that feels like home. He feels like home.
I’m going to tell him everything. I just have to find the right time.
***
I wake on my side, a bright blast of sunlight illuminating the room,
and my eyes lock on the sight of Liam standing in the bathroom knotting a
red silk tie at his neck. He’s been back for two days, one I regretfully slept
through, the other we spent in bed together, but today he goes back to war
with his “a-hole” investor. We haven’t talked. Not really. I was too sick from
the concussion and he was too protective to do anything but worry about
me. Despite the ER giving me a thumbs-up on a clear CT Scan, Liam is
determined to get me to a neurologist, but I know he’ll understand why I
won’t go when I finally tell him about my past. Or what I know of it.
Liam’s gaze suddenly lifts and catches on mine in the mirror, and my
stomach flutters wildly. He gives me a devastatingly sexy smile, and turns to
close the distance between us. And I am like a starving animal soaking in his
male grace and the way the gray pinstriped suit accents his long, leanly
muscled frame.
“How do you feel?” he asks, sitting on the edge of the bed.
I sit as well and touch the small bandage at my hairline, one that
thankfully has been downsized from gigantic the day before. “Ready to be
out of bed.” I stroke my hand down his arm. “Or to stay in it with you here.”
I glance at the clock and note the nearly one o’clock hour.
“But alas, you must go, and I have the acupuncturist showing up in an
hour.”
“Call me after the appointment and let me know how it went. I hate
leaving you.”
“I’m fine and you need to take care of business.”
“I’ll make it fast, if I can.”
A few minutes later he is gone, and I shower and dress before
heading to the mini-kitchen off the dining room area to make coffee. The
instant I bring the table into view I go still at the sight of my notepad and
computer. I didn’t expect Liam to be back and I never put my things away.
I walk to the table and sink down into the chair in front of my
computer. My screensaver is on and my notepad is closed, but I open it to
see what would be the first thing Liam would have seen if he had as well.
I’ve scribbled Why is there no record of the fire? and Who covered it up?,
both phrases underlined heavily. There are references to my hometown
papers and my father’s name is everywhere. I feel sick to my stomach all
over again and it has nothing to do with my concussion.
Liam may never have looked at these notes, but if he did, he is too
smart not to put two and two together. I have to talk to him now. I have to
make sure he doesn’t do anything to get the wrong people’s attention. I
dial his cell. He doesn’t answer. I press fingers to my forehead. He never
answers his phone.
A text beeps and I quickly glance at it. Just walked into meeting. Are
you okay?
I sigh and type. Yes. Yes I’m fine.
Derek wants us to go to dinner with him and Mike.
Mike is the “a-hole”. I’m never going to get to talk to Liam at this
rate. What time?
Seven. I’ll send a car for you.
I’ll be ready.
***
At seven sharp I exit the hotel in a white, form-fitting lace dress Liam
had picked out during our shopping trip, paired with red high heels and a
red purse, both of which I’d chosen.
My only other accessory is the white bandage by my hairline that,
despite my efforts to sweep my long blonde hair over it and seal it there
with hairspray, still shows.
I’m barely in the car when my cell phone rings, and it’s Meg. I frown.
She’s avoided me for almost a week and she chooses now to call? “Hello.”
“I just ran into Jared. He told me you had some sort of a head injury?
He said he’d stopped by the hotel several times and left you messages you
Jared stopped by the hotel? “I’ve been in bed. I had a concussion.”
“Was it—”
My defenses prickle. “No, it was not Liam. Jared knows that. Is Luke
back in town?”
“Oh, yes. I emailed you a new property list. Did you see it?”
“No. No, I didn’t.”
“Luke inadvertently sent you the wrong one and he apologizes. He let
your boss know. I guess you were supposed to do some reports you haven’t
done? Dermit was asking why, so you better get on it.”
I’m confused. Completely confused. Who do I work for? Do I work for
anyone? Is
Dermit real or not? “Can you please get me a number for my boss?”
“You’ll have to talk to Luke about that.”
“Can I make an appointment?”
“I’ll get with him and call you.”
My phone beeps. “I need to take that. I’ll check in tomorrow.” I click
over to Liam.
“Where are you?” he asks.
“I’m almost there, I think. I’m in the car.”
“I’ll be at the door waiting on you.”
“Okay. Yes.” We end the call and I immediately pull up my email. The
only email is from Meg with the property listing. I really have no idea what
is a cover story and what is a problem anymore. The idea of telling Liam
everything and no longer being on my own with this sounds better every
second.
“Your destination, ma’am,” the driver says, and the door
opens
almost immediately. Liam leans in and tosses a large bill at the driver.
“Keep the change.”
He offers me his hand and pulls me to my feet, giving me a hot
head-to-toe inspection before leaning in near my ear. “You look good
enough to eat. I think I will.”
“Liam,” I gasp softly, instantly warm all over, my nipples tightening.
That is how easily this man gets to me.
Deep, sexy laughter rumbles in his chest and he shuts the door
behind me. “Come with me.” He laces my fingers with his and pulls me
toward the building, and the way he has said the words “come with me”
has me quaking with the certainty he is up to something naughty.
We enter the high-rise building and my heels click on the fine white
ceramic tile that blends with my dress and contrasts with my shoes. I glance
upward at spiraling rows of offices that remind me of a corkscrew and seem
to climb forever. “Wait,” I say, and tug on Liam’s hand.
He stops and turns to me, glancing up as I am, and then back down at
me. “You like it?”
“This is the building you designed, isn’t it?”
“Yes. This is it. You like it?”
“It’s…” I struggle for a word that suits it, and settle on, “sexy. Like
you.”
He pulls me against him. “Sexy, huh?”
“Yes. Very.” My fingers curl on his cheek. “And brilliant, also like
you.”
His eyes darken and heat. “Come with me,” he orders again, and sets
us in motion.
We step onto the elevator and though I know the building is tall I
gape at the panel that reads 107 floors. “107 floors?”
Liam punches in a code and then directs us to the top floor. “Yes,
107.”
“That’s an intimidating elevator ride.”
He molds me close. “I’ll protect you,” he vows, and I’m not sure he’s
talking about the elevator ride. I’m not sure anything is what it seems ever
in my world.
“Why 107?”
“105 had been done and seven is lucky.”
“You believe in luck?”
“You don’t?”
“Not really.”
“We ended up seated together on a plane. I’d say that’s pretty
lucky.”
I soften inside, and more of that warmth he stirs in me pools low in
my belly and slides hotly between my thighs. “I think my luck is changing.”
The car jumps a little and I jump with it.