Pure Temptation (19 page)

I bit the inside of my mouth hard determined not to let him see my delight at hearing this. But my relief altered instantly into suspicion as he continued. “In truth, the only reason I followed you here, the only reason I tried to recover the money was because I had messed up and owed it to my promoter, Bruno Costello."

"Your promoter? Is he the guy the money belongs too?"

"Well technically, it isn't his money anymore. He lost it in a bet. He bet two-hundred fifty thousand dollars that I would lose a match. Then, he made sure to improve his odds of winning the bet by making a deal with me. He would pay me fifty thousand if I’d take a dive. I accepted the deal but once in the ring, my opponent went berserk. I don't know why Bruno didn’t clue the shithead in on the deal. It was his fighter and he should’ve told him, ‘put on a good show for the crowd, just don’t cause any permanent damage’. That’s usually how this kind of scam works.”

“So how did it end?”

“This guy was set on not only causing permanent damage, but he literally wanted to kill me.” He shrugged. “I had to fight back. What else could I do? The shithead had me backed into a corner. So I fought back and won the match on a knock out. Bruno lost his two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars and was not exactly happy about that. After the match, he threatened me. Told me I had to get the money back or I’d never fight again. He’d make sure of that."

"Couldn't you just find another promoter?" I asked.

"I wish, but I’ve been banned from fighting in the official MMA tournaments. I can only fight in the underground matches in New York, and Bruno Costello controls all those fights."

I wasn't sure I wanted to know, but curiosity got the best of me and I asked the obvious question. "How did you get banned?"

"A stupid mistake.” He sighed. “It has to do with the rules of the league. If a MMA fighter gets caught fighting outside the ring, he’s banned for life. But that’s a story for another day. Let's just say it wasn't pretty."

A flicker of apprehension crept into his expression and he hesitated before he spoke. I still didn't know what to make of all this. When he said he had fallen for me, my heart sprang to life, but how would I even know if that was true after all these deceptions? From the look in his eyes, the forecast looked like thunderstorms with a chance of more bad news. What kind of a relationship would we have if there was no trust between us? There certainly was none now. Surely, it had vanished and now it was merely a ghost in the room. I wasn’t sure I could stand to hear more, but a quick and disturbing thought pushed the words out of my mouth. "When I came to Summerville on the bus, you were already here. How is that possible?"

Lines tensed on his face and he wiped his face with his hands. He bit his lower lip and looked up at the ceiling, as looking for God or anyone to forgive him. When he finally looked at me, he spoke in a dejected tone of voice. "I followed you here."

My stomach knotted with a crazy mixture of fear and strangely enough, excitement. Fear, because this guy could be dangerous, and excitement, because if he hadn’t followed me, we never would have met. I blinked and looked at him in disbelief. I raised my fingertips to my temples and paced the kitchen floor. "How is that even possible? I never saw you."

"After the fight, I found out where the bookie would be and saw that he’d picked up a hooker …Franco pretty much always did that after a big win, so I followed him and the hooker to the hotel. I knew he had the money in that briefcase of his, so I waited outside the hotel for him to finish his business. I’d figured I’d grab it when he was alone. When I saw the hooker come storming out of the hotel, I knew something was up. I tried to get in the front entrance, but it was locked. I knocked but there was no one behind the desk."

I looked down and flushed, ashamed. I was too busy taking the money. I was supposed to be the one behind that desk opening the door for guests.

"A few minutes later, I saw the ambulance and cops arrive, so I hid on the other side of the street. I figured the money would still be with Franco since the hooker had left empty handed. But when they carried out Franco, and no one had the briefcase with them, I figured it was still in the hotel.

“I looked through the glass door and saw you behind the desk. I didn't know what to think. Did you take the money or what? I waited for hours and when your shift was over, I followed you to your place. I waited all day outside your apartment, when I finally saw the police car that came to pick you up. I followed along on my bike, making sure he couldn’t spot me. I waited outside the station and followed you again. Later, when I saw you get on the bus to Charleston with your big suitcase, I knew you had the money. Why else would you leave town? I checked the bus schedule and saw that there was a layover for lunch in Summerville on the schedule. Figured I would make contact with you there.”

“Wait, but what if I had decided to get off before Summerville?”

“I followed the bus to make sure you didn't get off.”

“Aw, geez.” I winced.

“And… when it arrived, I was waiting for you, hoping to 'bump' into you." A coy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Don’t smile at me. Don’t even look at me.” I lashed out and turned away, clenching my teeth, I was furious. This was all a setup from the start. It felt like he had just plunged a knife in and twisted. The 'accidental' running into each other, the dates, everything. All staged so he could get to the money. Our relationship was a fraud. It had been the entire time. I couldn't stand looking at him anymore. I had to get away.

He held me by my upper arm as I turned to pass him. "You’re upset. I can see it in your face. Listen, Dani, I don't care about the money anymore. Yes, in the beginning, I wanted to get it back because I had to get my career back on track. I trained hard for years to get to the level I’m at. I couldn't just throw all that away. But I don't care about that anymore. I care about you. I want this. I know I should’ve come clean earlier. Told you everything but I was afraid I would scare you away. See how you reacted? You would have run for the hills if I had told you earlier."

I wrestled his hands off me. “No shit, Sherlock.” I retorted in cold sarcasm. Salty droplets stung at my eyes. I refused to let him see me cry. I rigidly held my tears in check and thrust my chin out as I spoke. "I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that because you want me to hand over the money. I don’t even know who you are right now.” I huffed. “Whatever I thought we had between us has disappeared, no, it’s more like it’s been ground out by the heel of your boot, like a dirty used cigarette butt.”

He stared blankly at me as I reached over and grabbed my sweater where I’d left it on the counter top. The edges of it whipped the air from the velocity of my pull. “I need to be alone. I can't even stand to be in the same room with you right now." I stormed past him toward the living room and snagged my purse in one swoop, without ever taking my eyes off the front door.

“Oh, and by the way, before you go …would you please remove your knife from where you just STABBED ME IN THE BACK!” I was seething. I kicked open the front door and yelled out into the night air, “Asshole!”

"Dani, I’m sorry, don't go," he called after me, but his pleadings fell on deaf ears. With tears blinding my eyes, I rushed out of his house and down the sidewalk. I nearly tripped on a crack in the uneven cement when the tears slowly found their way down my cheeks. I couldn’t even begin to comprehend the amount of deceit that had gone on between us. I needed space. I needed to get away. Far away. Like the other side of the fucking world away.

“Dani,” I heard a calm voice from behind me. I stopped, turned and looked at Luke’s handsome face. In an instant, he closed the gap between us. Unspoken pain was alive and glowing in his eyes.

I hesitated and he noticed. He knew he had a magical magnetic pull on me. I could feel the heat from his body. Without asking for an invitation, his lips met mine in a smoldering kiss. The fire between us was still intact. It didn’t matter what he had done or how we had come to this moment. All that mattered was this amazing feeling that seared through my core. A feeling only he could create. Fighting hard to awaken myself from the trance he brought upon me, I pushed him away and started running. I ran, as fast as I could, towards the safety of Emma’s house. Safe from my own shattered emotions for Luke who tore at my heartstrings. I knew that I still loved him and it was tearing me apart.

For being a summer night, the air was unusually cold on my skin as I came to the front door of Emma’s house. I could hear the click of my shoes on the hard surface, an eerie lonely sound here in the wee hours of the morning in this vacation town. My steps should have been tapping out fun, joyful sounds. Instead, all I could hear in my steps was the depressing beat of defeat.

I located the fake rock Emma had told me about with the spare key inside. She said I could use the key in case I came home after she went to bed. I slid the key into the lock and as I turned it, I could feel the lack of tension on the bolt. The door was already unlocked. Strange, Emma always remembered to lock up at night.

The hallway was dark, but light was shining in from the living room. I figured Emma had fallen asleep in her favorite chair. I walked into the room but she wasn't there. She must have gone to bed after all. I turned off the light in the living room, and as I stepped back into the hallway, a thin beam of light shone from under the kitchen door. I noticed it was closed, which was unusual. I padded down the hall, expecting to see Emma fixing herself a night time snack. But instead, when I opened the door, a horrifying vision assaulted my eyes.

“Emma!” I cried out. She was crumpled on the floor, slumped down by the sink. Her clothes were disheveled and her hair was messed up, with strands pulled out of her hair clip and matted in the back of her head with dark blood. I rushed towards her. She was unconscious, but thankfully, she was still breathing. I called 911 for an ambulance but was put on hold.
What the fuck. Seriously? 911 put people on hold?

I grabbed a kitchen towel and ran it under the faucet to wet it. Holding Emma's head up, I made sure she had a clear path to breathe, and I cleaned her face. It looked like she had been hit, hard, like a punch to the face. She had a large bruise under the right eye and probably a huge bump in the back of her head. A splash of cold water on her face, made her react and her eyes fluttered and opened.

"Hanna? Where am I?" Her voice was raspy and weak.

"You’re home. I just came in and found you here in the kitchen. What happened?"

As her awareness of her surrounding came back to her, she pushed herself up to a sitting position with her back against the cupboard door. "It was Brian. He broke in the house. I came down here to the kitchen to make a sandwich. He was in a rage, yelling and screaming. I told him to get the fuck out of my house, but then he shoved me and I guess he hit me. I don't remember ..."

"I tried calling an ambulance but I couldn't get through. I'll try again."

"No, don't. I'll be fine." She stood up, stumbling a bit.

I grabbed her arm to steady her.

“Are you sure? Because I’m worried about you. You might have a concussion."

"Trust me, I'll be fine. Did you check on Michele?"

"No ...isn’t she in bed?"

Desperation formed in Emma's eyes and we both bolted for the stairs at the same time. I followed her into Michelle's room. She clicked on the light switch just inside the door. The bed was empty.

"He took her," she said through gritted teeth. Her voice was low and filed with anger. “I knew it. I knew this was going to happen.”

The shock of it held me immobile, and I felt ice spreading through my stomach. I should have called the police on this asshole a long time ago. Instead, I was more concerned about myself, about the police discovering my involvement in the stolen money. How could I have been so stupid? None of this would have happened if not for me. My misery was like a steel weight, this was entirely my fault and now I had to make it right. I had to find Michelle and bring her back. "Do you know where he could have taken her?" I could hear her breathing changed, Emma was panicking and hadn’t heard my words. She heaved and a worried cry escaped her lips as the entirety of her weight hit the mattress. “Oh god, what am I going to do? Hanna, he’s got my baby, that fucking, freaking, asshole has my baby,” she wailed.

“Emma, I’m here to help. Calm down and think… do you have any idea where he may have taken her?”

She sniffed and wiped the back of her hand across her wet cheek. “Brian's brother has a hunting cabin an hour away from here. He could’ve taken her there. He always talked about that place. ‘The perfect hiding place’, he called it. He knows how to hunt and survive in the woods, you know, that kind of psycho, survivalist shit ...he always bragged about it.”

"So we’ll just call the police, and they can find the cabin, and we can get Michele back," I suggested.

Emma’s hand trembled as she held it near her mouth. I could hear the click of her biting her nails as she rolled the idea over in her mind. I thought for sure she would be jumping on the idea of calling the police, but instead she waited, thinking and then looked me straight in the eyes. In a calm voice she said, "No, we can't call the police. Not yet. There are hunting rifles in the cabin. Brian is a crazy lunatic and if the police shows up, who knows what he’ll do. I can’t take that chance. I have to go there myself and talk him out of this." Her eyes were sharp and determined.

Emma was like a rock, ready to conquer anything, but it was going to take something really big, really brutal and strong to face Brian. Of course, I knew exactly who that could be. I took her hand and said, "Okay, but I'm not letting you go there alone. I’m coming with you."

My mind raced with probabilities. Brian could be crazier than we thought. This could end badly. We needed to bring out the ‘big guns’ and although every inch of me wanted to resist, I grabbed my phone and called Luke 'Renegade' Romano.

* * *

"We’re almost there," Emma said as she steered her truck off the highway and onto a dusty dirt road heavily encased in the dense overhand of trees. A few streaks of sunlight crested over the horizon. In a few minutes, the sun would rise and even though I rarely prayed anymore, I said a few words in my mind, hoping this entire situation would not go sideways. And if all else failed, Luke would keep this devil at bay. At least that’s what I was counting on.

All three of us sat in the front bench seat of her truck. I was in the middle, as Emma drove the full-sized pickup truck way too fast for this kind of road. Luke sat next to me, holding on to the strap as the truck swayed and jumped over bumps in the road. Despite my best effort to keep a distance between us, the bumps kept pushing me closer to him.
Great. He probably thinks I’m doing it on purpose.

"How many rooms in the cabin?" Luke asked.

"It's pretty small. I was only there once, but I remember clearly that it has two rooms. A living room and a bed room," Emma replied.

"He’ll probably have her in the bedroom, I would think."

Emma nodded. "Yes, I think so too."

"Do you remember if there are any windows?"

"I think so. Not sure. It was so long ago I was there." She threw a side glance at Luke. “There’s got to be windows.”

We drove on in silence for a few minutes. Each of us, I’m sure, contemplating what would transpire once we got to the cabin. Fear and anger knotted inside of me, while Luke was the picture of calm. I saw it with abrupt clarity, the confidence he exuded. His very presence took charge with quiet assurance until finally Emma broke the silence. "Okay, the cabin is coming up right here over that hill. How should we do this?"

Luke cleared his throat. "I have an idea. If one of us can distract Brian at the front door, the other two can get Michelle out of the bedroom. If there is a window, that is?"

"I should be the one who distracts him," Emma said promptly. "He’ll have a lot to say to me."

Luke nodded in agreement. "That makes sense." He opened the glove compartment and searched inside of it. "Do you have any tools in your truck?"

"There’s a toolbox under the seat," Emma said and pointed.

Luke pulled it out, and took out a large gray screwdriver. "This will do."

I was puzzled as to why he would need a screwdriver.

Yellow light filled the frames of two small windows as we could now see the cabin ahead of us. A beat up dirty white pickup truck with a bent fender was parked in front of it.

"That's Brian's truck," Emma said in excitement. She flipped off the headlights and slowed the truck to a turtle’s pace.

Luke grabbed my arm and addressed Emma. "Stop the truck here.” She killed the engine and Luke continued in a hushed voice. “We’ll get out and sneak up behind the cabin. Give us a couple of minutes, then drive up and knock on the door. Let's just hope he is not a total moron and shoots off the gun."

I swallowed hard. With my luck lately, he would probably do exactly that.

Emma stopped the truck to allow Luke and me to get out. I almost fell as I touched the ground but Luke grabbed a hold of my arm. "Careful," he said with a smile. If felt good to feel his touch, despite everything that had happened.

 
The woods were thick around the cabin, and the air was heavy with the damp smell of dried underbrush. It made it easy for us to sneak around to the back of the cabin without being seen. As we rounded the corner to the rear of the cabin, we spotted a window large enough that it wouldn’t require the skill of Houdini to get in and out of it.

The crunch of tires on gravel alerted us that Emma had pulled up next to Brian's truck. As soon as she knocked on the door we lunged for the window. The cabin was old and feebly constructed since it was only meant for hunting purposes. To our advantage, the window frame was thin and half rotten.

"This will work," Luke whispered. "Brian will hear if we smash it. I think I can peel off the frame with the screwdriver."

He pulled the large metal screwdriver out of his back jean pocket and inserted it in between the frame and the house, prying slowly all along the edges. A subdued, yet heated, murmur was faintly audible from within the cabin. It wavered on the verge of coherence, rose up, then sank back down and ended momentarily. At least the two of them were talking and I hadn’t heard any gunshots, so I assumed Emma was okay.

The window frame was so worn that it took less than a minute to loosen it. With the hands of a surgeon, Luke carefully held the window glass by the edges and removed it. I stuck my head into the room. It was dark and the bedroom door was closed. The light was too dim for me to tell if Michelle was there or not. I pulled my head back out, turned to Luke and shrugged, my shoulders palms up while shaking my head.

"I'll climb in," Luke whispered. Grabbing onto the window sill, he pulled his upper body through the opening and stealthily slipped into the room. Moments later, he appeared at the window and whispered, "She's here. Be ready. I'll hand her out to you."

He carefully picked up Michele, wrapping her bed blanket around her as he scooped her up and brought her over to the window where I awaited. As he leaned down to pass her through the window, she woke up and let lose an ear piercing scream. "Mommy!"

"Fuck," Luke uttered under his breath. Seconds later, the lights came on as Brian kicked open the door. He filled the doorway with his body and a shotgun the size of a small cannon in his hands.

Luke ushered Michele behind his back to protect her from the pellets if Brian started shooting. I ducked down from the window so as not to look like a framed target for Brian but kept one eye trained on the action inside.