Cravings (22 page)

Chapter 53

I
t was almost midnight when Sanj received the phone call.

“Sanj?”

“Jackson?”

“Yes, listen closely. I'm in your resort. Come down to the bar. Alone.”

“The police are watching me,” he said.

“Okay,” Jackson said after a moment. “That's all right. Come down for a nightcap. I'll be at the bar. I have blond hair and a blond beard. I'm wearing a navy-blue jacket. Don't use my name.”

“Jesus. Jackson, what's going on?”

But he had hung up.

 

It took a moment for Sanj's eyes to adjust to the dim room. A group of women in the corner laughed uproariously at some joke being told. A lone woman sat at the corner of the bar. Asian. Beautiful. Another time and place he and Jackson would be vying for her attention. But today, Sasha was the only woman on his mind. How could he have been such an ass to let her stay alone? He should never have left her side. He was in love with her. It was more than the sex. But it was the sex, too. Along with everything else. He wanted her with him always.

A woman with a sordid past—it tugged at him. But when it came down to it, he didn't care about it at all. It was only part of the woman she was today.

His eyes scanned the other side of the bar. A blond man sitting alone looked up at him and nodded. Amazing. He would not have recognized Jackson. The blond hair and beard made a good disguise. But those eyes gave him away.

Sanj took a seat next to him.

“What can I get you?” The bartender was on his job.

“A gin and tonic, please,” Sanj said, turning to Jackson. It took everything in him not to wrap Jackson in his arms. His best friend had been through hell—but maybe not as much hell as his wife, the love of his life.

“Roger,” Jackson said, holding out his hand.

Sanj shook it as the bartender sat his glass down.

“Will this be charged to your condo, sir?”

“Yes,” he said. “Sanj.”

“Good to meet you Sanj,” Jackson said in a somewhat loudish voice.

Sanj took a sip of his drink, sat the glass back down on the bar, leaned toward him.

“Did you get my message?” Sanj said in a low voice.

Jackson nodded. “Yeah, the whole Trinidad thing? Fucked up. Sanj, Jen, and Yvette are still there. I think. They are okay. Just pissed. No contact has been made.”

“He's here, still. I know he is,” Sanj said.

“Have you unraveled this thing? Because I'm confused.”

He took a long swig of his beer.

“He wanted Sasha. So he took Maeve to get her attention. In the meantime, Sasha was with me. So that's my involvement. At first.”

“What about Mozingo?”

The group of women in the corner laughed again. What was so bloody funny?

“Mozingo owed Everidge money. Big money. So, he helped him take Maeve. Plus they were investors in this cacao farm on the Ivory Coast where they found a mass grave full of bodies poisoned by DDT.”

“His wife. Emma? What happened there?”

Sanj looked away as his stomach flip-flopped. “Awful. They beheaded her.”

“I read that, but I had hoped the papers were wrong,” Jackson said, his voice cracking. “Cruel bastards. I can't think about what—”

“No,” Sanj said. “You can't. We need to focus. Maeve is a tough cookie.”

“So is Sasha.”

“This guy means business.”

“I saw your uncle earlier,” Jackson said. “Can he help?”

Sanj took another drink before answering. “I'm not sure.”

“What do you mean? He's the fucking maharaja of India.”

Sanj laughed. “Not India. Jeez. You Americans.”

“Then what's the deal?”

“I'm not sure if Sasha has been taken by Everidge or . . . by one of my uncle's goons.”

“What do you mean? Why would that happen?”

“He said he liked Sasha. But she's a Westerner and you know how he feels about me getting involved with Western women.”

“You and Sasha?” His eyebrows lifted and he grinned.

Sanj nodded.

“It's not serious, is it? I mean, you are sleeping together. That's it, right?”

“No,” Sanj said, and looked directly at him. “I'm in love with her.”

“Holy shit,” Jackson said and waved his hand at the bartender. “Another beer, please. I need it. Are you sure you know what you're doing?”

Sanj thought for a moment. “No. I have no idea what I'm doing.”

Jackson laughed. “Must be love then. Cheers!”

“Cheers, my friend,” Sanj said.

“Another G and T?” the bartender asked.

Sanj nodded. “Keep them coming.”

“I'm so glad you're okay,” Sanj said after a moment.

“It's an illusion,” Jackson said. “I am a mess without Maeve. And wondering if she's still alive.” His voice cracked and he took another swig of beer.

“Why are you in disguise?” Sanj asked. A guitarist took the stage and began to strum his instrument.

“I was being followed,” he said. “I think I slipped the sonofabitches.”

“Why?”

“I have something. Something very valuable.”

“What have you gotten yourself into?” Sanj asked.

“I can't tell you right now. But what I have is stolen goods and I'm trying to get it back to the rightful owners. That's all you need to know.”

“If you say so, Robin Hood. Where are you staying tonight?” Sanj asked after a moment, thinking a couple of more beers should get his old friend talking.

“With you, of course,” Jackson said and grinned.

Chapter 54

I
t was not over yet.

Sasha woke with the morning sun—or at least she thought it was the morning sun—streaming in through a very high window. She suddenly realized where she was. She had been here before, years ago. It was one of the apartments attached to Sam's casino in Saint Lucia. The apartments were used for private parties.

She glanced over to where Maeve had been, but she was gone. Sasha's heart began to race. Where could she be? She tried to look around the room. But her eyelids were heavy and the light hurt them. Part of the room was still dark. But she made out a crumpled heap of something on the floor. Was that Maeve?

“Maeve?” she said.

No movement.

“Maeve?” she said louder.

Last night she had given Sasha some advice. They had been moved since then—and one of her earrings was missing. So perhaps the plan would work.

“Sanj give you those earrings?” Maeve had asked.

“Earrings? Oh. Can't believe they are still in my ears,” Sasha had said.

“Sanj?”

“No. His uncle Chandan.”

What was left of Maeve's singed eyebrows hitched.

“The next time my hands are free, I'm taking one,” Maeve said.

“What? Why?”

“We need to leave one behind so people might find it. They are big and kind of distinctive.”

How could Sasha have forgotten how smart Maeve was? When she thought of Maeve, the thing she always remembered first was her goodness and heart. But, yes, she had smarts, too.

“Listen,” Maeve had said in a hushed tone. “I think they are coming back. Play dead. If they think you are still drugged they won't give you more yet. Trust me.”

Sasha had shut her eyes and went limp. It wasn't hard to do. She'd been playing dead her whole life.

But now the door flew open, shedding enough light for Sasha to see that, yes, the heap on the floor was Maeve—and she was not stirring. Fear ripped through her stomach.
Maeve!

Maeve's words of advice echoed. But it was too late this time. He had seen her awake.

The man who came toward Sasha kicked at Maeve as he walked across the floor. Once again, no movement. Sasha trembled. Was Maeve gone?

He grunted and reached into his pocket, pulled out a syringe. Sasha watched in horror as he slipped it into her arm. She felt the burn as whatever the drug was invaded her body. “What are you doing?” she managed to say.

“Shut up, bitch,” he said and smacked her across the face. She screamed as the pain ripped through her head, choking back a dry heave.

“You've got nice tits,” he said as he began to paw at them, twisting at one of her nipples. Sasha's stomach and throat reacted by heaving.

Oh God, let the drug take me before . . . I don't want to remember this. She trembled. He cupped both breasts and began to rub them furiously. “Just lovely. Such a whore,” he said. His hot stinking breath in her face. He was the fat one, the heavy breather, the one who stank of body odor and cheap booze. She screamed.

“I said to shut up, whore!” He smacked her again.

She heard a scuffle behind him. The door flung open again.

“No, sir. You shut up,” a foreign voice from behind said. “Step away from the lady. Put your hands up.”

Was she dreaming? Were they being rescued?

A handsome Indian gentleman in a uniform untied her and covered her with a blanket. So warm. So good. “We need the medics,” he yelled.

The man who was on Sasha was being dragged away by two other men. She could hear Sam in the next room, yelling. “Who the fuck do you people think you're dealing with?”

A blond man ran into the room. “Sasha! Sasha!” he said. “Where is Maeve?”

The drug coursed through her and she could barely move her heavy mouth. She nodded in the direction of the corner where Maeve was lying so still.

“Oh God,” he cried. “Maeve! Maeve.” He sobbed out loud as he kneeled next to her. “Medics, please!” he yelled through his tears.

A handsome Indian man approached her tentatively, tears in his eyes. Sanj.

She was lifted and dropped onto a stretcher. In the corner, the man's sobs became screams and they tore at her heart. Who was that man?

“Give these women the best care possible,” Sanj said.

“Sanj,” she managed to say.

He took her hand. “Quiet, my love. It's going to be okay.”

She felt warmth spreading through her—the blanket? Drugs? Or love? If she had the strength to grin or laugh, she would have at that moment. Love? Sasha?

Sanj went to the man in the corner as Sasha was being tucked and tied into her stretcher.

“She is still alive,” Sanj said.

“Barely!” the man screamed. “He said she barely has a pulse!”

“She will make it,” Sanj said. “She will!”

Sasha was being carried into the other room and outside, where a crowd had gathered. She lifted her head and saw Snake in handcuffs. His eyes met hers in defeat—or maybe it was shame.

So much commotion. Red lights flashing. The uniformed men shooed people away. But one small woman, dressed in a cocoa Armani suit, broke through the crowd.

“Mr. Everidge,” she said, coolly. He turned to face her. She pulled a gun out from her Chanel handbag.

“I am Yvette Delvechio. This is for one of the men you killed, my ex-husband, Paul,” she said, aiming the gun and firing so quickly the uniformed men did not have the time to stop her.

Blood oozed from Sam's chest through his shirt and then he fell.

Good shot, Yvette,
was Sasha's last thought before drifting.

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

“S
he has a concussion, a broken rib, broken arm, and you don't want to know about the internal lacerations and bruises,” the doctor said.

“So she was raped,” Sanj said.

“I'd say,” the doctor said. “You know, she's lucky to be alive.”

“But—” Chandan started to say. He was next to Sanj in the office.

“But she is a survivor,” the doctor said, then looked at Sanj. “But it's going to take some time.”

“Certainly,” Sanj said. “Whatever we need to do.”

“The broken bones and the concussion are treatable, as is the rest of it. But the psychological trauma . . .”

“We'll get her help,” Chandan said. “The best help we can find.”

Sanj looked at his uncle, grateful for his stepping in, and was amazed at his capacity to want to help him and Sasha. Given who she was. Given who he was. The doctor sat back in his chair. “One more thing,” he said, playing with his pen. “In the forty-eight hours she was captured, she was drugged.”

“Yes, we knew that,” Sanj said.

“She's clean now. But we found that it was heroin. It's one of the most addictive drugs. Usually it takes longer than forty-eight hours, but in this case, given her history, it's difficult to say.”

“Whoa,” Sanj said. “Do you mean she has another addiction?”

“It's hard to say where one addiction begins and the other ends,” he said. “It's really not my area of expertise. But we have a facility here that I'm going to recommend to you for her. It's a rehabilitation facility. We're blessed to have it here. Really good people. She'd be in good hands,” the doctor said.

“Let's look into it,” Chandan said as he rose from the chair.

Later, in Sasha's room, they bought the subject up to Sasha.

“I'd be happy to go there. I want to thank you for everything,” Sasha said to them both. “I'll get better, I promise.”

Sanj brushed her hair back off her forehead and kissed it. She beamed. “Sexy?”

He laughed. “You know it.”

She closed her eyes and slept, looking so serene. Something caught in Sanj's throat. If only she was at peace as she looked. Would she ever get over this?

“What a woman,” Chandan said as he sat down in a chair.

“Indeed,” Sanj said. “You see why I want her in my life.”

Chandan sighed a deep sigh from the bottom of his stomach. “Yes,” he said with a weariness.

“I'd marry her tomorrow. If she'd have me,” Sanj said.

Chandan laughed. “That's a big if. She herself said she's not the marrying type. And she's not so sure about you.”

“True,” Sanj said, noting his uncle's mischievous grin. But he was solid in his feelings for her. This he knew. Could he turn his back on the expectations of his family, his Ramsha, to be with her? He could. Why not? They could live in bliss in the south of France or Italy or even New York City. Yes, near Jackson and Maeve.

But his heart sank. Would he ever be happy not accepting the responsibility he was obligated to? What he was raised for? Leaving Ramsha? His home?

“I can't think,” he said almost to himself.

“Then let me do your thinking for you,” Chandan said. “We will figure it out together.”

Josh sauntered in the room with bags of takeout from the nearest Indian restaurant.

“Finally,” Chandan said. “Real food.”

“Yeah,” Josh said. “I hear it's pretty good. “

He slipped a box of something next to Sasha's bed.

“What's that?” Sanj asked.

“Chocolate,” Josh said. “What else?”