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They wouldn’t recognize her. They’d welcome a long-lost Hawk with the proper level of courtesy and respect, especially with the business holdings that his estate would grant her. They’d bring her into their lives with no idea of the hell she would eventually unleash.
She turned back, the sound of sirens faint. Fire trucks. They wouldn’t be able to do much. It’d take hours for the flames to die down. Hours for paperwork and investigations, for body counts and medical care. Would they even notice her absence? If they did, a half-hearted attempt to find the lost abducted girl might begin. But without a name, photo or suspicion of involvement, the search would wither, and the lost Hawk captive would eventually be a Wikipedia footnote and little else.
One girl gone. Another reborn.
She continued forward, and the sound of the highway grew louder. When the foot hooked around her ankle, she flew forward, her hands scraping on the rocks, and a scream slipped out of her before she could rein it in.
“Easy there.” The voice was deep and unfamiliar, and she rolled to the side, scrambling to her feet, and froze at the sight of the man, her hands lifting, her eyes zeroing in on his gun.
“Who da fuck are you?” The man spoke with a thick drawl that dripped with an accent she couldn’t place. He stepped closer, his face coming into focus, the moon exposing strong features almost hidden by a thick beard. He was a mountain man, one who yielded his gun with the confidence of someone interested in using it.
“And…” he smirked, settling into his stance, and nodded at the tree a hundred yards back. “What da fuck was that pipe?”
Twenty-Eight
BELL
Hours. That was it. I was taken for only hours. Barely a quarter of a day, most of which I spent drooling on myself and unconscious to everything. Hours, yet I felt as if it changed my entire life.
I laid in the hospital bed, the room crowded with a constantly-changing mix of family and friends, and fought back tears. I smiled, I listened to their stories and prayers—but I only wanted him. I wanted him next to me in this skinny bed. I clutched his hand, drawn to the warmth of his skin, and wondered when he would have to leave.
The Dario I knew before had constantly worked. His phone had buzzed every few minutes, our time together stolen between meetings and calls, the twilight hours our only uninterrupted stretches. Now, I didn’t even see his cell on him. He sat next to my bed, cradling my hand, and gave me his full focus. He brought me steak from S&L and chocolate chip cookies and milk from Patrizas. He noticed my shiver and hunted down, and then tucked a heated blanket around me. When my energy drooped, he ordered everyone out of the room, turned off the overhead light, and ran his hands through my hair until I fell asleep.
His full attention was temporary, I knew that. He had eight hotels to run, four casinos to control. Right now, crews were probably going wild without their captain. Soon, those lines etched in his brow would involve room rates and expense reports, turn figures and profitability … and not just my health.
I took a deep breath, trying once again to not think about where I was and how I got here. “They need to let me out.” I kicked my good leg free of the covers and growled in frustration. “My leg is fine.” I had the brief memory of the woman, her foot hovering in the air above the knife. I flipped my gaze to Dario.
The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. “You’ve got thirty-two stitches. Let’s just give it another night.”
It wasn’t just the stitches. I knew that. He liked having me here, liked being able to see my heart rate and oxygen level with one easy glance. He touched me, frequently, as if to reassure himself that I was really here, and he drilled every doctor and nurse who stepped in the room as if they were on trial.
“This is a safe place. The best suite in the hospital. Be patient and let me pamper you.”
Pamper wasn’t the word I’d use. Everything had been a blur. I vaguely recalled a visit from the hospital president promising me whatever we needed. I wanted out. I wanted Dario. I wanted the nightmare of her sadistic face erased from my head.
“Until you feel up to house-hunting, I’ve had the staff at Vinente prepare the Presidential suite. It’s four bedrooms, with a roof-top pool, and plenty of room to avoid me if I drive you—”
“That’s fine.” I carefully curled onto my side, facing him. “Anything is fine.”
I didn’t want to go back home. As much as I loved Meredith and the girls, as many memories as I had in that house, I was ready to leave. I needed some tranquility, and I needed him. I didn’t care where we were, as long as we were together. Life was too precious to us right now. Too many deaths. Too much heartbreak. Too many lies and villainous acts. I wanted quiet and I wanted some space to grieve, because it would take a long time to work through what we’ve experienced. But with him, I knew I could—we could—heal.
