Deadly Expectations (14 page)

“Anna?
 
My God, what are you doing here?”
 

She grabbed my hands and pulled me in then threw her arms around me.
 
I hugged her back.
 
It felt really good to see her.
 
She was stunning in a snug little blue dress with matching pumps.

“I just got in,” sort of the truth, “and you’re on the way to my hotel.
 
Thought I would take a chance … last minute job.
 
I jumped on it so I had an excuse to see you.”

“You’re back at work already?” she demanded.
 
“That Doctor Jackson said you broke your ribs and dislocated your shoulder!”

“I did.”

“Was he cute?”

“Alina!”

She sighed.
 
“Well that was what … six weeks ago at least?
 
I guess you have to go back to work eventually.”

“Alina?
 
Is everything okay?”

A man?
 
I mouthed to her
.

She nodded and seemed to cringe a bit.

“Yes.”
 
She called back.
 
Then to me, “I’m sorry, I tried to call and tell you but your machine is full.”

“With messages from you,” I told her.

She grinned and held up her hand flat above her head.
 
He’s tall
.
 
She mouthed then she quickly looked back behind her to the living room then held her hand flat down by her knee and nodded.
 
Everywhere
, she mouthed.

“Alina!”
 
I whispered.
 
God I missed her.

“If I’d known I would have called first.
 
I’m not sure how long I’ll be in town and I want to spend some time with you.”

A man appeared around the corner and slipped his arm around her middle.
 
As she’d said he was taller than her even in the four inch heels.
 
The sleeves on his expensive dress shirt were rolled up and he’d loosened his tie.
 
His nose went into her hair and he inhaled as his hand dropped and slipped out of sight behind her.
 
He laughed as her back straightened and her cheeks started to colour.

“Damian …,” she whispered.
 
“I want you to meet my sister Anna.”

“Major Howard,” he said as he pulled his eyes off her and turned his attention to me.
 
I took his hand and found myself ever so briefly wondering how his nose would feel in my hair.

“Anna Creed,” I replied.

“Damian,” he said as he let me go.

“Major …,” Alina laughed again.
 
“My Damian is in the US Army.”

So is my Paul, I thought.

“I’m sorry,” she yawned.
 
“I just came off six early shifts.
 
Day of rest tomorrow.”

“Dinner then?”
Damian suggested.
 
“Why don’t you two meet up for lunch and girl stuff then dinner, my
treat.
”

Alina smiled.

“Please Sweetie?” she asked.
 
She knew that I knew exactly what she was asking for and how small a chance there was of me agreeing without some sort of sisterly blackmail: shopping, salon and a formal dining room.

“Okay Alina,” I replied surprised by how quickly I’d conceded.
 
And that it wasn’t for her.
 
It was because it was what Damian wanted.
 
“I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Yes!” She was beyond happy with our date.
 
She kissed my cheek and we said goodbye.

“Wait a sec.
 
I’ll see you to your taxi.”

Damian disappeared and came back with a jacket on.
 
In the elevator he told me how worried Alina had been since my accident and he thanked me for coming to see her.
 
He could see already that her mood was lightening.
 
She hadn’t said anything, he told me, but she had been thinking about me a lot.
 
I blinked away a sudden image of Damian and me up against the elevator wall, my finger on the stop elevator button.
 

As we spoke I absently tried to look through the small purse I had under my coat but his presence had me completely distracted.
 
I wasn’t hearing the words of our conversation at all, just impressions of the subject.

Once outside I took his elbow and we walked down to the next block, something about a taxi faster on the busier road.
 
Suddenly he grabbed me by the throat and carried me down the alley.
 
His rage was terrifying; his strength.
 
He pushed me up off the ground by my neck so my feet were dangling and I grabbed his arm to hold myself up.

I was still making sense of what was going on as he leaned in close, furious.

“I wasn’t going to come after you myself this time,” he seethed.
 
“I have Alina.
 
But having you here is just too tempting.”

He started to squeeze.
 
I tried to kick at him but he pushed himself up against me.
 
My foot banged against the metal garbage bin beside us.
 
He smelled me then he squeezed harder.

“Tell me bitch, did you spread you legs for him that first night, or did you make him wait to fill you with his son?”

His hard breathing filled my ears.
 
I started to see spots as my arms weakened, my hands kept slipping off his jacket as I struggled.
 
He groaned and pushed himself against me even harder.
 
He panted with arousal, his breath fragrant with wine and garlic.

My vision narrowed; head tilted to the sky.
 
I could see the apartment lights above me, fading slowly into the blackness that covered nearly everything around it.
 
Then his weight shifted and he held something long and shiny up where I could see it.

“Remember this Catherine?
 
Filthy bitch,” he growled.
 
“You were mine.”

Slowly he lowered his hand and twisted the point of the knife against my skin like a corkscrew.
 
One arm dropped, then the other.
 
I was too weak to swat the knife away.
 
Desperation rose.
 
Fear.
 
Pain.
 
The tip popped through then more skin stretched and tore.
 
Then he dropped his wrist and angled the point up to my heart.

I closed my eyes and thought desperately;
Paul.

The pressure of Damian’s body on mine was gone.
 
My feet hit the ground and I fell.
 
My ears roared with the life and every bit of air I got in only gave me the energy to cough harder.

There was wood floor beneath me, not pavement.
 
Part of me could hear voices in the distance.
 
I had to move before he found me.
 
I opened my eyes.

I was on the floor in Paul’s room.

I coughed again.
 
And again.

I tried to call for help and only wheezed so I started kicking the dresser.
 
The voices downstairs quieted.
 
I could hear boots in the hall and the door burst open.

Paul was first in, then several more.
 
I stopped kicking when I saw him.

“Paul,” I coughed again and pulled in a few more breaths.
 
I realized I was holding my hand tightly over where Damian’s knife had been in me.

“Anna?’
 
He was so worried.
 
“Where’s the blood from?”

“Paul,” I held out my bloody hand to him.
 
“Ray.”

Paul looked back at the others and one ran out to get Ray.

I put his hand on the hole in my stomach and covered it with mine as another burst of coughing hit me.
 
He felt my blood seep through his fingers on its way to warm my hand.

“Ray!” he yelled.
 
He pulled my hand away and pushed my shirt back to expose the wound then he grabbed a wad of the fabric and pressed it on the hole.

“How long was I gone Paul?”
 
I whispered.

“Sshhh,” he said.

“I’ve been stuck in
Toronto
for three weeks.
 
Couldn’t get back,” I wheezed.

He looked at me.
 
“You went up to bed an hour ago … three weeks?”

Ray ran in.
 
He looked under the piece of my dress that Paul held on my stomach and then at my neck.

“I don’t think it’s very deep.
 
Look at her neck bruising up,” he said.
 
“Get her on the bed.”

The one who ran off to get Ray brought in the red bags.
 
As they put me on the bed Paul sent the others out.
 
“Sweep the compound,” he told them.

“Damian tried to kill me.
 
He has my sister,” I whispered, now connecting Alina’s boyfriend with the man they had spoken of when I thought I was sleeping.
 
Then I started coughing again.

Paul looked at Ray.
 
He shrugged and started an IV.

“I have to clean that out and stitch you up.
 
You’ll be out for a bit.”

“Don’t worry if you can’t wake me,” I said.
 
But I was already slipping under.

Chapter 14

Morning sun came in past the open curtain.
 
Ray’s back was to me so I closed my eyes and thought about the pieces I’d gathered since I last slept in Paul’s bed.
 
Ray and Paul’s talk of Damian, my dreams of Catherine and Damian’s attack calling me the same name.
 
Why would Damian be satisfied with Alina instead of me?

The woman in the mirror was right; there were things they weren’t telling me.
 
They were the only ones who could help me fit the pieces together; even then I would have to find help.
 
They may have thought they could protect me but the previous night had changed everything.
 
I stretched my arms up over the blankets and sighed with dismay.
 
My left was now just as colourful as the right; flames licking all the way up from my wrist and disappearing under my sleeve.

“One night or two Ray?”

He turned around and came over.

“Just one Kiddo,” he said.
 
“How you feeling?”

I lost my smile.
 
“Like I’ve been strangled.
 
I don’t think I had very much time left when I got out of there.”

He sighed.
 
“The wound to your stomach wasn’t deep or near the baby, it was messy though.
 
I’m sorry there’s not much I could do to make it look pretty.”