Burned Hearts (38 page)

“What did you do?” he demanded, his tone sharp, filled with rage. “Why did you turn against me?”

“I didn't, Dane! I swear!” She choked on her words. “It all just happened—I couldn't stop it.” She'd gone as pale as the light-pink sweater she wore with white leather pants, which had Ethan's blood splashed across them. “I had no choice. You have to believe me!” Tears streamed down her ghostly cheeks.

“
Tell
me.”

She visibly quaked. “I needed his help. I was out of money. Flat broke before I even opened the market. Brizio's brother double-crossed us. We paid for imported goods and invested in his shipping business, but he never delivered. Never even started the business. We had to find another source and that cost us everything I had. I couldn't go to my father for the money. He'd never lend it to me, since I'd depleted my trust fund.”

“Why Ethan?”

She swallowed hard. “I—I don't know. It just happened,” she reiterated, fear tingeing her voice. “That night of the Delfino party in Scottsdale. After you and Ethan talked to him about the problems I was having setting up shop in Old Town. You and Ari left afterward. I had a few drinks with Ethan. I explained the situation with Brizio's brother, and that we were having a cash flow problem. He offered me the money, Dane.”

I could see my husband's shoulders bunch. This was about to get even uglier. If that were possible. He'd shot Ethan. Dead was my guess, since Dane didn't seem concerned that Ethan might rise up, gun in hand.

My insides churned over the reality of the situation and the trauma it would cause Dane when the adrenaline stopped pumping and it fully hit him that he'd killed his best friend and mentor.

Mikaela said, “He wanted a few favors in return.”

“So you slept with him.”

“Yes. But that wasn't all. Dane, he wanted my electronic badge for the Lux. I didn't understand why, but he knew I had one with no restrictions. There were only a few you'd issued that granted all access to every inch of the resort. Ethan's badge was only good for getting him to the top floor of the executive wing—your office suite, because that was all he'd ever needed. Yet I consulted with Chef D'Angelo and the managers of the various restaurants, so I had to be able to get to them for meetings.”

“Oh, God,” I breathed. I was about to heave again. “She was the one who let Wayne Horton into all those restricted areas after Amano fired him. She was the one who provided him access so he could plant the snake and the scorpions … the bomb.”

I was certain I'd gone as ghostly as Mikaela.

“I didn't know what he was up to,” she insisted. “I swear it, Dane. I didn't ask; he didn't tell.”

“And that exonerates you?” Dane hissed between clenched teeth.

“Dane, please understand, I—”

“Ari was attacked.
Repeatedly.
On-site and off. Because of the access you gave to Horton. Ethan shot her, Mikaela. My wife! He kidnapped my child.” His tone was low, lethal. His finger twitched against the trigger of his GLOCK.

“Dane,” I said in warning. I could sense the dark place he'd gone to in his mind, knew what he saw before him was not his childhood friend but a traitor. Someone who'd destroyed everything he'd built, someone who'd threatened his family, someone who'd deceived him. “Put the gun down, Dane. Call the FBI. Daugherty will take over from here. I have all of this recorded. Just walk away. Bring our son home.”

Fat drops rolled down my cheeks. I needed this to all be over. It was too much. Too painful, too harrowing, too impossible, to continue watching, experiencing. It needed to be done.

“If you kill her,” I told him, my throat and heart constricting, “you'll regret it. You know you will. Maybe it'd be justified and you'd feel satisfaction right this very second, but when the reality hits you, Dane, you'll hate yourself for pulling the trigger. She doesn't deserve to die.”

Ethan's death I had no qualms over. But this was different. Mikaela had gotten caught up in something much bigger than herself, something she likely couldn't wrap her mind around even if she tried, even if she had all the facts. I still struggled with it myself, and I'd been immersed in this life, this evil, for more than a year.

“Dane,” I urged.

It took several more suspended seconds for him to respond. He didn't lower his weapon, though. In a menacing voice that left no question of what he'd do to her if they ever crossed paths again, he said, “I will make you pay for this. I will make sure that you live a very miserable life in prison. You will never get help from me again. I will nail your father for his involvement, for whatever conspiracy he partook of that killed my parents, for whatever the fuck I can do to make sure his life is over, too. You will both rot in hell. Do. You. Hear. Me?”

I gaped. Mikaela shed more tears. Her bottom lip quivered and her breath came in heavy pulls. Clearly, she couldn't speak. Only slowly nodded her head.

“You are dead to me,” Dane said. “Whatever happens to you from this moment on will never,
ever
be of concern to me.”

He took a few steps back. Didn't disengage the weapon but didn't keep it pressed to her forehead, either.

To me, he said, “I'm disconnecting the call. Kyle's bringing the baby home. I'm contacting Daugherty.”

There was such a distant, detached note to Dane's voice that it sent a chill down my spine. Panic shot through my veins. “Dane?”

“I love you, Ari.” He hung up.

I stared at the screen, my mind reeling, my insides shattering.

“Dane,” I whispered as my own tears streamed. “Come home to me.”

He didn't.

*   *   *

Kyle arrived a half hour later and promptly placed a distressed Amsel in my shaking arms. He actually had to help me hold the baby.

I was in a lot of pain, but it seemed to radiate more in my chest, deep in my core, than in my leg, which was sufficiently patched and propped up while I lay on the sofa. Stan stuck close to me as Dr. Forrester did whatever needed to be done to Amano. His assistant came into the great room frequently to give an update, since I was desperate to know how it was all going.

Rosa tried to occupy herself in the kitchen, but couldn't stay away for long, constantly checking in. I didn't bust her for showing her soft side, for letting me slide on the pain-threshold level I lacked. She was also visibly upset over Amano's condition, and in the back of my head I wondered if she'd grown fond of our fearless bodyguard. Wondered if the feeling was mutual, since Amano never seemed to mind sticking close to her when the heat was on.

Kyle said, “I know Kid has no idea what just happened, but the noise and bad vibes have him really worked up.”

I stared down at the gaping, squirming bundle in my arms. His little fists were in full swing, as were his tiny feet. He looked a bit flushed and that worried me.

“Can you get me a bottle?” I asked Kyle. “And then you need a hot shower and a hell of a lot of brandy. Dane's best label is in the wine cellar off the study.”

“I don't think I should leave you.”

“Stan will help me.”

“Ari.” Our eyes locked.

I could see how deeply disturbed Kyle was by everything that had happened this evening. Maybe everything that had happened since we'd first met—it'd likely all caught up to him, hit him hard tonight. The way I suspected it had Dane.

My insides twisted at the thought of him. I desperately needed him to come walking through the front door, but there was a part of me that feared he would not. He was devastated by the entire fucked-up scenario from start to finish. Worse was that he'd killed Ethan. And that Mikaela had contributed to the entire explosive situation—even the destruction of the Lux.

It had to be tearing Dane apart, destroying him.

I told Kyle, “This isn't the way your life should be, Kyle. This is
so
bad and wrong. You should be out dating, meeting Meg and Sean for drinks, having fun.”

“Yeah, that's totally me,” Kyle deadpanned. “Living it up, having the time of my life, all fun and games.”

“Kyle.” I let out a long breath. “That should
totally
be you.”

I stared several more seconds, my gaze unwavering. Then I asked, “Have you visited Amano in his medically induced coma? Do you really think I could handle it if that were you someday? I was devastated when I thought he was dead. And the feeling hasn't changed even knowing he's still alive.”

“He did what he was hired to do, Ari. He went after the bad guys.”

“And that's how you feel about Price? It's that cut-and-dried for you? Because he's dead, Kyle.”

He grimaced.

“No. I didn't think so,” I said. “You care about Amano and I know it has to crush you, too, to see him like this. And Agent Price—the two of you had become friends. So don't play tough with me.”

“Okay, yeah, I'm hating this whole part!” He erupted. “But it was a damn good thing I was here. Even you have to admit that.”

A few tears crested the rims of my eyes.

He raked a hand through his hair in agitation. Then he leaned toward me and brushed the fat drops from my cheeks.

“You're already a hero,” I told him. “Many times over. That's not enough?”

“Come on, Ari. I never signed up for the carefree existence, remember? I had to deal with a major injury in order to keep playing ball, in order to keep my scholarship and get a college degree. I had to kick a very serious prescription-drug addiction. Goddamn it, Ari,” he ground out. His eyes blazed with emotion and intensity. “I did a lot of shit just to get through life. And what kind of life was it, anyway? My dad was hardly ever around. My mother had a newborn to focus on from the time I was nine. I raised myself. I didn't have a family unit.”

“I understand that, but—”

“I do now,” he insisted with conviction. “I've been involved in something dangerous, yes. But also extraordinary. There's a whole universe I never would have been exposed to if I hadn't met you and Dane. Amano. And tonight, when that red dot was on Amsel's forehead…?” He shook his head. The emotion deepened. “That was when I knew that what I've been doing has meaning, purpose. And that I am a part of a family. One I
choose
to be a part of. I belong here, protecting Amsel. You
know
it.”

My heart swelled. I nodded, because I couldn't speak.

Kyle added, “Don't send me away. Amano is going to need some serious healing time. And damn it, he deserves a break. He's no spring chicken, you know? He's been doing this shit for three decades.”

Another nod, because I simply couldn't get a word around the lump in my throat.

“So let me do what I'm getting good at,” he pleaded. “I'll get even better. And all those dangers Dane had to face because he was born a billionaire that your son now faces because he's an heir to a huge empire—let me be the one to help protect him from it all.”

I would have hugged him if my arms weren't full. I was pretty sure my eyes said it all, though. Told of my eternal gratitude and best-friend love and devotion.

He gently whisked away more wetness on my cheek and said, “Just nod again if it's okay that I stay.”

I did. Emphatically.

*   *   *

With Kyle keeping his allegiance to me and Amsel despite the hell he'd been through, I was able to let him and Rosa look after my son while I drifted in and out and tried to heal.

Morning came and went, and though I knew Dane had a long haul ahead of him with the FBI to dissect, piece together, and tidy up all facets of the secret society run amok—and Mikaela's involvement—I stressed over him not calling. Not stopping by.

He'd trusted Kyle to return Amsel. But was Dane capable of coming home knowing I'd witnessed him killing someone? Knowing I'd watched him hold a gun to Mikaela's head and that he'd been seriously close to pulling the trigger—again—in his rage?

It was all justified, but still … He'd likely be freaked out that I'd had to see him go all dark and dangerous one last time.

I fretted over every minute that ticked by. Kyle appeared equally on-edge. As though he also wondered if Dane had slipped into some sort of rawer, darker place in his mind that precluded him from setting foot in his own house—from facing all of us.

It created a very tense environment. And incited a lot of anticipation.

All I wanted was for Dane to walk through the door. To be with me.

What had happened to us was something I could eventually put behind me. I could survive it, just as the rest of us would survive. And knowing Kyle planned to keep Amsel safe from any future threat settled me all the more.

With Amano in stable condition, all that hung in the balance now was Dane's absence.

I continued to doze intermittently. It was probably a good thing I was laid up or I'd be pacing the house incessantly, wearing a hole in the stone flooring Rosa had diligently cleaned of blood and glass. Stan and another of Forrester's assistants boarded the broken windows for us.

Unfortunately, there was no outlet for my anxiety as the activity ensued and I … waited.

I needed Dane. And every second without him burned my heart. Tormented me.

I battled a serious bout of apprehension and panic that pushed me almost to the point of hyperventilation. Stan wanted to give me more pills. I stuck with the bare minimum. I wanted to retain coherency and I still had Amsel to take care of and worry about. He seemed to pick up on my disconcertment every time he was in my arms and was fussier than ever. As though he knew a huge presence was missing from this house, knew it disturbed me greatly.

Another day passed and my spirits sank lower. Kyle found ways to amuse Amsel in his bassinet, distracting him from my suffering while I remained sprawled on the sofa in the great room. Kyle occasionally flashed me concerned looks.