Burned Deep (42 page)

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Authors: Calista Fox

BOOK: Burned Deep
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I barely even noticed Amano maneuvering me just so in order to yank up my panties while still holding on to me so I didn't drop like a ton of bricks at his feet.

Dane continued to punch, and the bones snapping became gruesome to listen to. Finally, it registered in my mind the length he was willing to go.

He'd kill for me.

And I almost let him.

“Dane,” I squeaked out. “Enough.”

He kept at it. Vale's legs vibrated, then stilled. His entire body went limp.

“Dane!” I mustered the strength to shout. “Stop! You'll kill him!”

Dane could have been a professional boxer. And he unleashed a violent rage that horrified me. Mostly because, in that dark part of me, I knew he deserved this revenge. I wanted him to get it. I wanted Vale to pay for what he'd done to the hotel—and, especially, what he'd done to me.

So much so that I could have retracted my protest. Let Dane finish what he started.

But then my mother's words taunted me.

I don't know what sort of people you associate with—I'm not even really sure who you are.

I wasn't so sure, either.

“Dane,” I called out again. “Just stop. It's over!”

Wrenching myself free of Amano's loose embrace, I hurled myself forward, tackling Dane, shoving him off Vale. I lay sprawled across Dane, breathing heavily.

“That's homicide.” I pointed my finger toward Vale. I had no idea if he was dead or alive. He was certainly unconscious. “You're not a killer.”

“I have the right,” Dane shot back. “I have
every
right!”

“No,” I insisted, staring into his wild, dark eyes. “You don't. This isn't who you are.
This isn't who I am!

“Ari,” he said with conviction. “This
is
exactly who I am.”

I tried to climb off him, tried to stand. Amano had to swoop in and lift me to my feet while holding me firmly to him. I quaked and a peculiar dreadfulness consumed me.

Dane stood, breathing heavy. He extended a bloody-knuckled hand to me. “Ari.”

I shrank away.

“Ari,” he said again, his gaze connecting with mine. “Christ … Your face.” His jaw clenched. His irises burned with fury. “Goddamn it. Look what he did to you! And he would have raped you.
Goddamn it.
” The fury was like nothing I'd ever seen, heard, witnessed. Not even my parents' poisonous tantrums had been this treacherous.

“We can't do this,” I told him, my voice cracking. “We can't be these people. This is too much, Dane. This is all just too much!”

“Ari, I've said from the beginning that I would do anything to keep you safe.”

“But I'm not safe if I lose you to this rage. Can't you see that? It's because of me that you've refused to draw a line. It's because of
me
that you've gone this far.”

“Just let me help you,” he quietly offered as he took a step closer.

I moved backward, forcing Amano to as well. “I am as much a destructive force as you are—don't you see that?”

“Ari. Baby, I—”

“No,” I said as tears flowed down my cheeks.

“I'm not the bad guy here,” he insisted.

“I know that. But Vale might be
dead,
Dane. Dead!”

His head snapped back at my angst, my pain. As though I'd slapped him.

To Amano, I said, “Take me home, please.” My gaze was still locked with Dane's. “To
my
house.”

“Of course,” Amano agreed. Though I was sure he gave a questioning look to Dane, whose eyes didn't leave mine.

“Don't do this,” he said, his tone pleading, tearing at me.

“I have to,” I told him as the sobs welled in my throat. “And you have to let me go. This is wrong. What's become of us is wrong. My fault as much as yours, but still … It's
wrong,
Dane.”

The panic over those words made my chest hurt. Like someone had ripped out my heart.

“I love you,” he said with steely conviction.

“I feel the same—and it's devastating us both. This is not healthy, Dane.” I could barely breathe, as though I'd been gutted. Shredded from the inside out. It took all the willpower and resolve I possessed to finally steal my gaze from his.

“Get me out of here, Amano.”

He had to do most of the work, because my legs were wobbly. When we reached the front door, he seemed to realize I wasn't wearing shoes and lifted me into his arms. He carried me to Dane's Escalade and carefully deposited me in the passenger's seat. Then he collected my muddied bag and phone and put them in the back.

I kept my eyes on the windshield, looking straight forward, not glancing out the side window to see if Dane would appear.

I didn't want to know what he'd do about Vale or how he'd clean up this mess. All the blood in someone's partially constructed house.

I couldn't allow myself to think of anything at the moment. The demons clawed at me, but I mentally fought them back so I didn't fall apart.

As was his normal practice, Amano uttered not a word as he drove me to my townhome. I was grateful for the silence. It helped me to concentrate on blocking everything from my mind.
Everything.

When he delivered me to the front door, he dug out my keys and unlocked the dead bolt. I stepped inside and he followed so that he could set all of my belongings on the kitchen counter.

Finally, he said, “Ari … whatever I can do.”

That started the waterworks again. I turned to him. “Can you get my stuff from Dane's? My suits are in the dressing room and there are some clothes in the two top drawers. A tote in the bathroom. Not the silver robe and nightgown. I don't want them.” My voice was scary. Distant sounding, yet laced with a fragility that made me fear how strong my freak-out would be when he left me.

“I'd rather take you to the hospital,” he told me.

“They'll ask questions. You know that.” I stared unwaveringly at him. I knew this Secret Service–type lifestyle was something he'd embraced for decades, after all, whether he knew Dane's Illuminati association or not. “I can't exactly say I walked into a door, right?”

His jaw clenched. Then he said, “At least let me clean you up. See if you need stitches.”

“I'll do it.” I wanted to be alone. I felt the hysteria coming on and I needed for him to leave. “Will you please just get my things?”

“Yes.”

I could see he didn't want to walk out on me, but I said, “Before Dane makes it home.”

“Right.”

Likely I tested his loyalty to Dane. But in the end, I suspected he knew that Dane would want him to do whatever I requested. Do whatever needed to be done.

“Lock all the doors and windows,” he said, his worry making me shudder. “Don't open up for anyone but me.”

“I promise.”

He gave me another unfaltering look that conveyed remorse, an apology, condolences. Making me wonder exactly how fucked up my face was. The pain throbbed in wicked beats but a certain numbness flowed through me.

The misery of losing Dane eclipsed the physical agony.

 

chapter 24

When I was alone, I went into the bathroom. A peculiar sickness moved through me. Seconds later I was curled over the toilet, heaving. It took some time to get past the sights and sounds in my head. Then I pressed a damp washcloth to my mouth and the nausea eased.

I brushed my teeth and stripped off my clothes, wanting to burn them. Destroy all evidence of the evening so I never had to think about it or confront it, ever again. But that was impossible. Because I couldn't burn away the memory.

Cranking on the hot water, I waited until it steamed my bathroom. I wanted it as scalding as I could stand. I needed it to overpower every other feeling, every emotion. I needed it to obliterate the hands that had squeezed my breasts and clasped my legs. To incinerate the words that had been whispered in my ear.

I was creeped out, disgusted, revolted. The list went on and on. Literally, worse than scorpions was another man, any man other than Dane, touching me the way Vale Hilliard had.

Standing under the spray that made me squirm with its intense heat, I let it wash away the blood and tears. I stood under the water as long as I could, but it couldn't dissolve the pain seizing me. I sank onto the edge of the tub and the sobs came hard and fast, making my body quake again.

I wept for everything I'd started to believe in with Dane—the love, the bond, the dream we'd been building together. I wept for all that I had just lost—him, the faith I'd finally embraced, the hope that I could be different from my parents and grandparents, the optimism surrounding something that had made me come alive and had brought so much pleasure.

I was thoroughly wrecked. And so disassociated from myself. Like appendages were missing.

It took a small eternity for me to finally shut off the water and grab a towel. I patted it against my face, the trickles of blood staining the white material. Still feeling numb inside, I swiped at the steam on the mirror and bit back a gasp at the reflection staring at me. The cut on my forehead didn't look as though I needed stitches, though I'd definitely have to keep an eye on it—and it promised to leave a scar. I squirted Neosporin on a Band-Aid and applied it to the laceration.

Inspecting the bruises made me cringe. My entire right cheek was black-and-blue. My jaw was bright red. My lip was split, though thankfully not bleeding now. Regardless, I was a fright. My dad couldn't see me like this. He'd wig on a level I couldn't even begin to process. And it'd be a good week or so before I could cover the remains of the damage with makeup.

I also worried whether my cheekbone might be fractured, but I'd monitor it as well.

Somehow, the physical wounds didn't compare to the emotional ones. I'd left Dane at that house and, with him, I'd left a huge part of me. Making it difficult to breathe. But what was I to do? Just thinking of the ferocity of his wrath on Vale was petrifying.

Yet the devastated expression on Dane's face when I'd told him to stay away.
My God.
That recollection sent razor blades through me.

I wiped away more of the fat drops that wouldn't stop flowing. My doorbell rang and I jumped. Then I realized it was Amano. I wrapped the towel around me, adding my thick terry-cloth robe. I pulled the sash tight at my waist. I was still crying when I glanced through the peephole and opened up for him.

He arranged my clothes and bags neatly on the kitchen table.

Then he turned to me. “You don't look any better.”

“I'll never be better,” I said. More tears fell.

“Ari. Vale Hilliard isn't dead. He'll recover in a private facility. He won't come near you again.”

“Dane has seen to that?” I asked a bit acridly. I didn't understand how all of this worked.

“It's complicated. Hilliard has disgraced his family by failing the charge given to him.”

Really, who were all of these people that they had such control over these background Machiavellian machinations? It was too surreal.

“So it's over?”

With a nod, he said, “I think so. Dane's with Ethan right now. They'll figure it all out. But, Ari, he's—”

“Don't,” I softly pleaded. “I can't talk about him. I don't want to hear anything about him, Amano. What I want,” I explained as the apprehension and agony ripped through me, “is for you to take my laptop back to 10,000 Lux and tell Dane I quit. He'll have to find someone else to fill the Events Director position.”

From what I'd gleaned over the months, Amano was not an expressive man. But he was running the gamut this evening. He dragged a hand down his face and said, “Ari, he'll never accept that.”

“He has no choice.”

“You don't understand what you're saying … suggesting … doing.” He shook his head in dismay.

“I can't be with him, around him. Not after what happened. What I saw.” My eyes closed. I envisioned Dane whaling on Vale. My lids snapped open. “There was no stopping him. I had to tackle him, Amano. He could have killed that man. I can't be a part of that. Not now. Not
ever
.”

“Sometimes the lines aren't black and white, Ari. There's a lot of gray area when you're dealing with billions of dollars and people who want things from you that they can't let go of—and they won't let you out of their crosshairs.”

“I'm going to naively stick with the adage that two wrongs don't make a right.”

“Understood.” He headed to the door but spared a glance over his shoulder. “I'm going to stay in the SUV tonight, outside. If you need me.”

“Amano. You don't have to make all these sacrifices for me. I'm not with Dane anymore.”

The tears flooded my eyes again.

“I can see that.” He watched the fat drops crest the rims and roll down my cheeks. “I'll be here anyway.”

“Wait.” I reached for his arm. “Wayne Horton. I think he's your inside guy. Vale had him work on-property to send everything awry.”

“You're sure?”

“Best guess.”

“Okay. Thank you. Call me if you need
anything
.”

I nodded. He left me to the crying jag that started anew.

How, exactly, would I exist post–Dane Bax?

I shoved a chair from the kitchen table under the doorknob because I was that terrified someone from Vale's faction might break in. Despite the bodyguard holding vigil in the parking lot. Then I made sure all the windows were locked and I searched for things sturdy enough to set in the metal tracks to keep anyone from being able to slide open a window in the event they could bypass the locks. If there was a fire, no way in hell would the firemen get to me unless they crashed through my patio doors. Over those I pulled the drapes closed.

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