Club Prive: Sweet Escape (Kindle Worlds Novella) (14 page)

I punch the button repeatedly. It doesn’t open and I head to the stairs.

“Dr. Atwood, I’m worried.”

As I push through the door and take the steps three at a time, I don’t tell her that I’m worried too.

***

By the time I’m at basement level, every unimaginable scenario has thundered across my mind, every single one of them making me go faster.

Exploding into the hallway, I find the sign for the morgue and run it its direction. Sliding my keycard, I push the door open, and freeze.

McGill is on the floor. Another dead body in a hospital gown is beside him. The custodian from the ICU is holding a knife to Avery’s throat. She’s lying on a gurney, a gag in her mouth, ropes binding her to the metal bed. Her eyes are huge, tears streaming from them, silently pleading for me to help.

I look at the man, holding up a hand. “Don’t.”

The man is cursing, muttering under his breath, saying things I don’t understand. I watch the knife, the point of it pressing into Avery’s carotid.

“Step away from her,” I command, using all the authority inside me.

He shakes his head, like a dog shaking off water. “No, no, no. Paisley’s going to be so mad.”

Connecting the dots, I take a small step closer, then stop when Avery winces and a bead of blood appears.

“Paisley can’t hurt you,” I tell him. “We’ll make sure that she doesn’t.”

He shakes his head. “But she’s got to pay. She’s been bad. Bad girl. Bad girl. Baaad.”

I’ve got to keep him talking. “Avery isn’t bad. She’s very good.”

He points the knife at me, and I nearly sag in relief. “No!” he shouts. “She’s bad. She killed Paisley’s mom and dad, and her dog, and her brother. She made everyone think Paisley did it, but she didn’t.”

I shift an inch closer. “That’s not true. Paisley lied to you.”

“No! Paisley loves me. She wouldn’t do that. She loves me. Loves! Me!” He thrusts the knife in my direction with each word.

I hold out a hand again. “If she loved you, she wouldn’t want you to die seeking revenge for her.”

The custodian smiles, and a chill runs down my spine. “She didn’t ask me.” His voice is more reasonable now, which is worse, the insanity closer to the surface. “I wanted to. If I can get her sister to admit to killing them, they’ll let Paisley go and we can get married. Paisley wants to marry me. She’s going to have my baby.”

Bile edges its way up my throat and I swallow it down.

“So you want Avery to confess to setting Paisley up?”

He looks down at her, hatred pouring out of his eyes. “Yes.”

“Let’s do it now.” I wave my arms to bring his attention back to me. “I have a phone. I can live stream the confession and then everyone will know that Paisley should be free. The two of you can be together.”

He cocks his head to one side, considering me.

“I’m just going to reach for my phone.” I don’t give him a chance to approve, simply reach in my pocket and pull it out. “And then I’ll turn on the recorder. Why don’t you take the gag out of her mouth so she can talk?”

I exhale the breath I was holding when he does what I say.

“Raise the head of the bed so everyone can see her face,” I suggest and watch him closely, waiting for my chance to jump him.

The opportunity doesn’t come. He keeps an eye on me while holding the blade to Avery’s throat, raising the bed an inch at a time.

Opening an app, I tag the NY police department and the hospital, then type “Manhattan Med Center Morgue” as the place. I glance up at the man. “What do you want me to name the video?” I need to keep him talking, and asking him questions forces the logical side of his brain to work, if there’s any of it left.

“Free Paisley Carlson.”

I nod and type, taking a half step closer, turning the phone to him. “Did I spell it right?”

He peers at the screen and I take another step. The rope around Avery’s chest has loosened in her new position and from the corner of my eye, I can see her reaching into her pocket. She’s no longer crying. Instead, a sense of calm seems to have come over her, even when another drop of blood appears on her throat.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s right.” He seems excited now. “This is good.”

I turn the phone back around. “I’m going to enable the stream now. You ready?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Avery has found what she was looking for and pulls it from her pocket, holding it against her leg. I almost smile. An EpiPen. That’s my girl. Planning on fighting to the very end.

I tap the start button and nod at the man.

“Tomorrow, Paisley Carlson will have been wrongly imprisoned for ten years. Ten long years of being behind bars for a crime she didn’t commit.” He lifts the knife to Avery’s cheek. “Today, that wrong will be made right. This traitorous bitch has something to confess to the world. Tell them what you did.”

Avery looks at me and I nod, willing her to play along.

“I-” She coughs and winces when the knife punctures her skin. “I did it. My sister is innocent.”

The man laughs. “I knew it. Now tell them why you did it.”

“B-because I didn’t want to share the love of my p-parents.”

I jolt forward when he grabs Avery by the hair and forces her head back. “Did you hear that, Paisley?” he shouts. “You’re free. I’ve avenged you.” His smile is oddly beautiful as he lifts the knife.

“No!”

I lunge, throwing the phone at his face, shoving at the foot of the bed to get to him. The knife comes down, but slices into the bed, inches from her head. I connect with him, my shoulder in his gut, taking him down.

Pain spears through my back just before the sound of his head hitting the wall rings through the room.

“Gray! Gray!”

Avery is screaming my name, and I try to tell her I’m okay. But I’m not. The edges of my vision grow dark as I attempt to get to my feet, then fall onto the dead man beneath me and try to push up again.

Then she’s beside me, rolling me onto my side as the door bursts open. There’s shouting and she’s crying, pressing something against my back.

“We need a surgeon.” It’s her voice, but it’s so very far away.

I’m being lifted and the lights of the ceiling become a blur.

“Stay with me, Gray. Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.”

I try to tell her I won’t.

But I do.

Chapter Eighteen – Avery

“Believe in everything.”

He traces the letters of my newest tattoo, then kisses it, his velvet tongue sweeping over my skin.

I pull on the ribbons holding my hands above my head, desperate to run my fingers through his thick hair. I need to touch him. Take and give.

As I watch us in the mirror, I can’t believe it all started right here in this same room. A month has passed since I stood in this spot.

How can thirty days change a life so completely?

I smile at my reflection. How can two hours?

I look down at the man kneeling in front of me. How can one minute?

Hissing out a breath, I watch his mouth disappear between my legs as he sucks on my clitoris, long deep pulls that cause my knees to go weak. His fingers bury into the flesh of my ass, pulling me closer. Always closer. Manhandling without the brute force. Eating. Devouring until I scream.

He stands, his lips sucking on my stomach as he rises, the undersides of my breasts, my nipples. His teeth trace the curve of my shoulder and up my neck. When he reaches my mouth, I taste myself on his lips as we connect with our tongues.

“Spread your legs,” he commands of me and I immediately do as he says.

His lips are sliding over mine in a kiss so gentle and exquisite that I don’t expect the slap that lands on my very center. Or the next. Or the one that follows.

His other hand fists in my hair, pulling my head back, exposing my throat to his teeth. “Do you like that?” he asks, the flat of his tongue sliding up to my ear.

“Yes, Sir.”

I barely recognize my own voice, low and strained. Every muscle trembling as tension becomes bliss.

The pain of the next slap spirals through me and I beg him for more. He chuckles and impales me with his fingers instead, finding that spot that soon has me screaming again.

When he reaches up to untie my arms, I collapse against him and would have fallen if he hadn’t caught me, pulling me against his chest.

He carries me to the bed, following me down and I gladly accept his weight. I wrap around him, my fingers finding the scar on his back. The long bump of skin that nearly cost him his life.

When they wheeled him into surgery that day, I’d stood on the wrong side of those doors, praying to God and my mom and dad to save him. Pain had filled my chest and bled into my veins, making me so heavy with its weight that I could only sink to the floor.

It was Tabitha and the nurses who had lifted me up. Brooke who had come running to hold my hair back as I’d vomited, the horror of what had happened spewing out of me.

McGill died that day, but I couldn’t be sorry for his loss.

Tyler died too, his neck breaking in the fall.

His death still haunts me. The look in his eyes as he blamed me, so very certain of my guilt. It also haunts me because I know it was my sister who manipulated him, wrapping him in her web as she had so many others.

He had been a custodian at the institution she frequented too often, creating trouble at the prison so she’d be admitted. Paisley had targeted him, preying on his weakness to fulfill her desires. A baggy of powdered shellfish had been found in his locker afterwards, solving that little mystery. We also learned that he was the robber who had broken into my grandparents’ home, which is how he discovered my new identity and location.

“Don’t think about it, baby,” Gray soothes, his lips so close to my own.

I smile up into his beautiful face and stroke the beard that’s so soft under my fingers.

Believe. Just believe.

“I love you, Gray,” I say for the first time, even though I think I’ve known it since I first held him like this in this very bed.

The look in his eyes strips my soul bare.

Energy simmers between us, needing a place to go. He connects us, slipping into my body, filling me, making me whole.

“I love you, Avery,” he says, his eyes a shimmering reflection of the words. “Move in with me. Marry me. Have my babies someday.”

I laugh, happiness a fountain in my chest.

“Maybe we should date for a little longer first,” I say reasonably, then gasp when he thrusts hard, pushing me a couple inches up the bed.

“What if I don’t want to wait?” he asks, reaching between us to cup my breast and bring my nipple to his mouth.

He bites. It hurts. I want more.

“What about Brooke?” I hiss as he scrapes his teeth across the sensitive flesh.

“She can move in too. Plenty of room.”

Arching against him, I push myself down onto him harder, needing the friction. He thrusts into me violently, giving me what I need before raising his head.

“Actually, scratch that. I want to introduce Brooke to my brother.” He grins. “They’ll love each other.”

I freeze beneath him. “Really? Why haven’t you mentioned him before?”

His lips are against my neck now, and he hooks an arm under my knee, bringing my leg up until I’m spread so wide I feel I might split open.

“Can we talk about this later?”

I grin and pull his face up from my neck so I can look into his eyes. “Yes.”

He flexes his hips and my breathing disintegrates into urgent pants. He picks up his rhythm and I know he’s misunderstood. “Gray, I said yes.”

He’s breathing hard when he stops moving, letting go of my leg so he can cup my head in both hands. “Yes to which part?”

“Yes to everything. Anything.”

His lips crash down on mine. So possessive. I feel small yet strong as I cling to the man I adore. When he lifts his head again, a ragged sigh escapes me.

“Anything?” I laugh as his eyebrows waggle up and down.

I don’t hesitate. “Yes, Sir.”

He growls and laughs too, taking my lips and my body on the most beautiful journey two people can ever know.

I’ll be sore tomorrow, but it’s an ache I savor. An ache I never want to leave. One I crave.

Because that’s life. The pain you feel today is the strength you possess tomorrow.

And I’m strong now.

Because of him. Because of me.

***

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Also By Leslie Johnson

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With Elle Dawson

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Badass: Deadly Target (Box Set)

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About the Authors

Leslie Johnson

Leslie is a California native but recently moved to Arizona after a stint in Arkansas. She enjoys travel and being with her grandchildren.

She is an avid reader of many genres, but prefers romances with travel or thriller themes. She loves writing about strong women and strong men because the world needs both!

Please visit me at:

http://lesliejohnsonauthor.com/

https://www.facebook.com/lesliejohnsonauthor

Elle Dawson

Sharing ones thoughts on paper is an intimate experience, and should not be taken lightly. Some days I fear this process, as my mind can be a scary place to dwell. Other days I realize I’m not alone in this journey, and although the very action of expelling ones deepest thoughts onto paper is intensely personal, it is deeply healing. Funny how that works.

I will continue to write as Elle Dawson, and be a mom, sister, daughter and friend in my real life. I’ll enjoy the beauty of Tennessee and read books that take me away or speed up my heart. When I’m not writing them.