Denied Page 8

  She needed a car, and she needed one fast. The only person she knew with a vehicle was Cameron, but she worried about what he was going to say. He had said if she needed anything, he’d be there for her, but she didn’t know if that stretched to borrowing his car. But she had no choice other than ask.

  She took a quick shower and changed her clothes. The jeans she pulled on were loose on her hips and she needed to wear a belt to hitch them in. Even her bra gaped at the top of the cups, and her t-shirt swamped her frame. How much weight had she lost in the last month—fifteen pounds? Twenty, even? It wasn’t as though she hadn’t had it to lose, but she didn’t want to get any thinner. Her stomach growled in hunger, as though audibly reminding her she hadn’t had anything other than coffee that morning. She needed to stay fit and strong, not be some waif of a creature that might blow over in a sudden wind.

  I’ll eat as soon as I’ve spoken to Cameron, she promised herself.

  Going to her closet, she found an old purse. She wrapped her gun in a lightweight sweater, and added in some money and the key to her apartment. Should she take her passport? If something happened to her and she had no ID on her, she might never be identified. The thought made her shiver as though someone had walked over her shallow, unmarked grave. When had her life become one where she needed to think about whether her dead body would be able to be identified before she left the house? Her biggest concern used to be what she’d watch next when her most recent Netflix binge had come to an end.

  Yet she felt alive now. She’d been sleepwalking through life before she’d been taken, but now, even though she was exhausted, her whole body buzzed with a righteous energy. She wouldn’t just sit back and allow things to happen to her—or not happen, as the case may be. She wouldn’t go back to sitting in front of the television night after night, drinking wine to relieve the boredom, only to go to bed and start all over again the next day.

  Her heart contracted with regret and longing. For a short while she’d believed she’d had that exciting life with Monster. While it had been crazy and dangerous, she’d never felt so alive.

  Lily threw the strap of her purse over her shoulder and clutched the bag against her body with her other hand. Holding the gun close made her feel safer, even if there was a layer of leather between her and the weapon.

  She left her apartment and walked down the hallway toward Cameron’s place. Her shoulders were rigid, every muscle tensed as she moved light-footed, imagining someone might jump out of a doorway at her at any moment. She had to keep herself in check. It was one thing shooting an assailant who meant to kidnap and rape her; it was another shooting a reporter or a well-meaning neighbor.

  Stopping at Cameron’s door, she lifted her hand and rapped lightly. The door opened quickly, as though he’d been standing right beside it, and she gave a little squawk of shock.

  “Oh, sorry,” he said, a smile lighting his face. The memory of his mouth against hers hit her like a physical force, and she pressed her lips together to try and dispel the sensation. “I was just about to head out for coffee.”

  She glanced down and saw he was wearing sneakers, and his keys were in his hand.

  “No, I’m the one who is sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “Not at all. You want to come with me? My treat. I’ll even grab us some bagels.”

  “Actually, I was going to ask you for a favor.”

  “No problem. Ask me over coffee and bagels.”

  She hesitated.

  Her stomach gurgled again and she felt her resolve waver. She’d planned on asking for the keys to his car and getting out of there. Was she so easily swayed by baked goods?

  Yes, it appeared she was.

  “Okay, sure. That would be great. I’m not gate-crashing on breakfast with someone, am I?”

  “Nope, just me, myself, and I.” He flashed her that boyish grin again, and she tried not to think about his mouth.

  Cameron stepped out of the doorway and into the hall with her. The lock caught automatically, clicking into place.

  “So did you sleep all right?” he asked her as they walked together toward the elevator.

  “Yes, thanks. I was exhausted. Yesterday was a crazy day, to say the least.”

  “You can say that again.”

  They caught the elevator down to ground level and then walked the couple of blocks to the local coffee shop. Lily stayed alert for the sensation of being watched, trying to keep an eye out of her peripheral vision to catch anyone who might be following them. Perhaps the person from the previous day had been another reporter or a photographer, and no one threatening at all? She wanted to believe that, yet deep down it didn’t feel true.

  “Grab a table,” he said as they walked into the comforting aroma of the coffee shop. “I’ll get those bagels.”

  He returned, balancing tall cups of take-out coffee and a couple of bags of bagels. Unable to hold herself back, she ate the food straight out of the bag, consuming one and starting on the next. As the sweet carbohydrate melted on her tongue, she tried not to groan in pleasure.

  Cameron watched her, amused. “Hungry?”

  Heat flooded her cheeks. “Yeah, sorry.” She spoke around a mouthful, her hand raised to her lips to cover the sight. “I didn’t have any groceries at my place.”

  He laughed. “No need to be sorry. I like to see a girl eat.”

  He was flirting with her again. She wished he wouldn’t. It was going to get her in trouble.

  No, it isn’t. Monster has disposed of you. You’re free to do whatever you want.

  If that was true, why did it feel so wrong?

  “So what was this favor you wanted to ask me?” he said, and took a sip of his coffee.

  Though she’d been so resolved in her apartment, now she actually had to ask, she felt awkward. “Umm, I need to borrow your car.”

  He sat up straighter in surprise. “My car? What for?”

  “I need to head down the coast, and I need to leave as soon as possible. I would probably have it back with you tonight. I wouldn’t ask, but my car is still impounded.”

  “What would you say if I offered to drive you?”

  She’d known it was coming. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to meet that boyfriend of yours, are you?”

  She gave a small laugh, but it sounded false. “No, I promise.”

  He twisted his cup between his hands. “I don’t know, Lily. I’ve got to say, I’m worried. We got you some protection yesterday, but then you thought you saw someone following you, and now you want to borrow my car, but you won’t really say why.”

  “I’m aware I’m asking a lot. You’ve already done so much for me, and you didn’t need to. I mean, we barely know each other.”

  He reached out and took her hand. “But we’re getting to know each other, aren’t we?”

  She pressed her lips together, and gently pulled her hand from his. “That’s the thing, Cameron. I just don’t think I’m ready for that. Heck, I know I’m nowhere near ready for that.”

  “We’re getting to know each other as friends,” he said. “That’s all I meant. And friends help each other out, don’t they? So sure, you can borrow my car, but I’m driving.”

  Her heart sank. But what other choice did she have? She didn’t have her driver’s license—it had been taken with her purse by Cigarette Hands and his crew—so it wasn’t as though she could hire a rental vehicle. Maybe they could go together, and she would just try to narrow down her search area without actually approaching anyone. If they did a drive by and she recognized something, perhaps that would be enough to take to the police and let them take things from there.

  She forced a smile. “Okay, thank you, but can I just ask for one more thing?”

  “Name it.”

  “Don’t ask too many questions, okay? I know I’m involving you in this, and it’s wrong of me to do so, but please try to stay as far in the dark as yo
u can.”

  He nodded. “I’ll do my best. When do you want to leave?”

  “As soon as possible.”

  “Sure. Let me go back to my place and grab a couple of things, then I’ll meet you outside our block in say, fifteen minutes?”

  Lily smiled in relief. “Sounds good.”

  ***

  True to his word, Cameron was waiting for her outside, fifteen minutes on the dot. She hadn’t needed to get anything else for herself—everything she needed was right inside her old purse—so he’d left her to finish her coffee while he went back to his place.

  He walked down the steps toward her, wearing faded jeans and a close fitting white t-shirt. His jaw-length hair fell in his face and he pushed it back. Damn, why couldn’t her helpful neighbor have been the old guy from forty-six, or the middle-aged mom of three who was always yelling at her kids? It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate getting to spend time with Cameron, or everything he’d done for her. It was that she didn’t need the distraction, and every time she looked at him she was overwhelmed with misplaced guilt.

  “So,” he said as he trotted down the steps. “I probably should have asked this before, but where exactly are we going?”

  She pushed herself up from where she’d been resting against the pillar at the bottom of the steps. “I want to drive down to San Diego, possibly even a little way past there.”

  “To the border?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “You want to take the freeway?”

  She shook her head. “I want to get on the Pacific Coast Highway. The thing I’m looking for will be right on the coast, so I don’t want to go inland. We’ll hit the freeway eventually, but if we can stick to the coast as much as possible, that would be great.”

  “Thing?” he said, lifting his eyebrows. “Are you sure it’s a thing and not a person?”

  She hissed out air in exasperation. “Yes, I’m sure. Now let’s get in the car.”

  He gave an amused smile. “You’re the boss.”

  Monster (Present Day)

  The plane touched down with a bump and a jolt, and a sudden rush of g-force. It came to a standstill, and Monster finally allowed himself to peel his fingers from the armrests. Flying had given him one of the most unnerving experiences of his life, and he’d been through plenty. At one point they’d hit turbulence, and the plane had dropped as though it was going to fall out of the sky. He didn’t like to feel he wasn’t in control, and flying had done just that.

  Although he couldn’t wait to get off the aircraft, he remained in his seat, the belt done up, until both the pilot and co-pilot came out of the cockpit and he was absolutely certain the plane wouldn’t be moving again.

  At least now he would be standing on the same soil as Flower. Something about that both soothed his soul, while firing his rage. He wasn’t angry at her. Some asshole guy had come along when she was fragile and was taking advantage of her. This hadn’t been his plan when he’d sent her back home. He’d known she would have been angry with him, too, but he’d never imagined she would be getting involved with someone else so soon.

  His anger ratcheted up a notch. She was his. No one else’s. He’d cut the hands off another man who had touched her.

  The door of the airplane opened, and he stepped out into the sunshine. It was a different kind of heat than Cuba—less humid—and the air had a different scent. This was the first time he’d been out of the country of his birth, though he knew his father had regularly traveled between countries. Part of him didn’t know what to expect, while the other part felt like he already recognized the place. With so much outside culture coming from the United States, it was hard to be completely uninfluenced by the country.

  As he walked down the narrow metal steps onto the runway, he pulled his suit jacket together, securing it with the buttons. He was used to wearing a suit in the heat, and fastening the jacket somehow made him feel like he’d cast off the nervous man he’d discovered on the flight, and taken him back to his cool, professional self.

  Another man in a suit—this one a lot less expensive than his own—came hurrying across the asphalt toward him. Chapman held a cell phone in his hand, his expression anxious.

  Monster felt the other man’s pale blue eyes flick to the side of his face where the birthmark was still present. This was the first time they’d met in person, and his employee hadn’t known about the affliction. Lily had done an amazing job of fading the mark so it no longer looked like someone had flooded ink down one side of his face, but it was still noticeable. He hated that the birthmark made him self-conscious. Not that anyone would dare say anything.

  “Have you switched on your phone yet?” Chapman asked him. “Rodriguez Mendes is trying to reach you.”

  His heart hardened. Rodriguez Mendes was a distant relative to the Gonzalez-Larrinaga brothers, and he knew hearing from the other man was never going to bring good news.

  “No,” he said. “I had it switched off during the flight.” He didn’t want to discuss his business with Chapman. “Do you still have eyes on Lily Drayton?”

  He nodded. “Of course, but she’s on the move. Sean Hamilton is tailing her. She left Los Angeles with the neighbor a little over an hour ago.”

  “Fuck. Where is she going?”

  “We’re not completely sure, but she’s heading in the direction of San Diego.”

  “And you said she’s gone with the neighbor?”

  “Yes, in his car.”

  His shoulders tensed. “Is he forcing her?”

  “Didn’t look like it. She seems to be with him of her own free will.” He glanced away briefly. “Sorry.”

  Unless you’re the one fucking her, you don’t need to be sorry, he almost said, but held himself back. Chapman didn’t need to know any more of his business than he already did.

  “I want her brought to me,” he said, instead.

  Chapman’s lips twisted. “How?”

  He snapped his dark glare on the other man. “That’s what I’m paying you to figure out. Can you do your job, or do I need to find someone else to do it?”

  His employee shook his head. “No, no, of course not. But please, call Mr. Mendes. He didn’t sound happy.”

  “Let me worry about that. You just concentrate on getting the girl.”

  Chapman gave a slight nod. “Your car and driver are waiting on the other side of the hangar,” he said, before turning and walking away.

  With gritted teeth, Monster took his cell phone from his pocket and switched it on. The screen lit up and it took a few moments to locate a local network. The phone started to buzz in his hand. Damn. Seven missed calls, all from the same number. Rodriguez Mendes.

  He exhaled a deep breath through his nostrils and hit the call button.

  “Merrick,” came the voice at the end of the line. “Birdies are telling me you’ve left the country. You know you have a debt you haven’t yet paid.”

  Monster held back a growl. “I’m on a business trip. It’s not as though I’m not coming back.”

  The other man gave a snort of laughter. “Since when do you take business trips? Merrick, the mysterious recluse?”

  “Things change.”

  “Don’t make me chase you down, Merrick. You know I’m capable of it.”

  “Don’t threaten me,” he snapped

  “It’s not a threat, it’s just a friendly reminder. You took something of mine, and now you owe me something of yours.”

  Monster clenched his fists, his jaw rigid with anger. “I have plenty of money. I’ll buy you out for whatever you think I owe you.”

  The other man laughed. “I don’t need any more money. You took flesh and blood from me. I want flesh and blood back again.”

  “I don’t have any. Your boys shot the only people I had in my life, remember?”

  “And then you shot them.”

  Monster knew he wouldn’t be able to argue his way out of this one over the phone. A life was a life. It didn’t matter in
Rodriguez’s mind if the brothers deserved to be killed.

  “I’ll be back in a couple of days. We’ll talk then.”

  He sighed. “I don’t know, Merrick. Maybe I’m sick of talking.”

  And the phone went dead.

  Monster resisted the urge to throw the phone to the ground and grind it into the asphalt with his foot. Instead, he clutched it tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. Only the knowledge that the phone was the only way for his men to contact him about Flower stopped him from smashing it into a thousand pieces.

  They’d landed at another private airstrip, so Monster didn’t need to worry about appeasing government officials, though he had faith the fake passport in the inside pocket of his suit jacket would pass any scrutiny.

  His driver was waiting in a black SUV. He got out to open the back door for Monster, who slid into the leather seats. A suite in a hotel had been booked, and as the driver had already been told where they were headed, Monster didn’t need to say anything to be taken there.

  He was glad not to talk. The phone call had rattled him. Was he doing the wrong thing by trying to find Flower again? Was he doing so because he worried she was in danger, or because he hated the idea of her being with another man? He’d gone to such trouble to send her back to America, he wasn’t even sure what he would do when he found her. Would he bring her back to Cuba again? If he did that, Rodriguez Mendes would come after her for sure, just as Monster had always feared. He’d never thought the deaths of the Gonzalez-Larrinaga brothers would go unpunished. What he really needed to do was convince her that she needed to disappear. She needed to leave her apartment, change her name, and move to a new city. If she continued to insist on talking to the police, or newspaper reporters, she’d be found for sure, and he hated to think what kind of future she would have then.

  Rodriguez Mendes would make the brothers look like a couple of school boys acting up.

  Eleven