Fatal Wild Child (15 page)

Gabrielle stepped up beside Seth, her overcoat collar turned up around her neck, her hands thrust in her pockets, and her boots unlaced. Tyler was right behind her, shadowing her, his eyes on her back. She didn't speak, but her glance at Seth said volumes. She wasn't going to be left out, or ordered around. Even as Seth wanted to shake her for her stubbornness, he admired her for it.

"Change of plan," Seth told Cameron smoothly. "Just in case you had missed it, there's about half-a-dozen paparazzi behind you, taking in every move you're making right now."

Cameron swore under his breath. "Thought we'd lost them at Jasper after we left the hospital."

Ronny turned to Destiny. "You stupid bitch. This is all your fault. If you hadn't insisted on making a bloody statement, we'd have ditched—"

Seth shifted his shoulders to hide his actions, then reached inside Ronny's coat, grabbed the base of his throat with his forefinger and thumb and squeezed gently.

"That's about enough of your crap," he told him as Ronny tried to suck in a breath and wheezed.

Cameron took a careful sideways step that gave Seth more shielding from the cameras. He watched silently.

Ronny's face was turning red. Seth eased off on the hold.

Ronny gasped, sucking in a breath. "You ass—"

Seth tightened his grip again. "I can stand here and do this all day long, if need be. As long as it takes until you get it through your head that none of us have to listen to you dish out that verbal abuse. Especially not your wife.
Comprende
?"

Destiny was silent, her mouth held in a tight, thin line. She was as sensitive to the need to avoid drama in front of the paparazzi as any of them, but Seth could see she had reached some sort of emotional low point. She was ready to break. Why couldn't Ronny see it?

Because he was the one close to breaking her.

Seth loosened his hold on Ronny's throat.

Ronny drew in a gurgling breath. And another. He glared at Seth. "You have no idea who you're messing with." His voice was hoarse from the pressure Seth had been applying.

Seth had heard threats from enemies that actually meant something, before. He smiled. "I'm not messing with you, Ronny. I'm telling you. You'd better listen. What you do with your wife in private is your business. But don't do it out here where the world can see."

Ronny's eyes slid sideways. For the first time he seemed to really process the fact that the paparazzi were there and recording everything they were doing.

"If you've got issues, be an adult and deal with them behind closed doors," Seth finished. "You just look stupid hanging out the family linen this way."

Ronny took a breath. Swallowed.

Seth let the man go, knowing the red edge of his temper had cooled. Cameron relaxed, too. He was a judge of men and would see for himself that Ronny had let go of the throttle.

Seth stepped back.

Destiny propped her crutch under her arm and caught at Ronny's forearm. "Let's go and get a late lunch in the cabin, huh?" Her tone was soothing, placating.

Ronny yanked his arm out of her grip, like her touch was that of a leper's. He looked back at her with a furious expression on his face.

But Destiny, already off balance, pin wheeled with her arm, trying to get the second crutch back under her arm. It fell away, cluttering onto the paving with a hollow clatter.

Seth was too far back to catch her. He lunged forward, but Destiny was falling backwards. She plopped into three feet of fresh, powdery snow with a breathless shriek. Seth heard the rapid click of auto-shutters on the paparazzi cameras and winced.

"
Oy vey,
" Cameron muttered.

"Right," Seth said. He grabbed Ronny by the scruff of the neck. "Screw being nice." He glanced at Gabrielle. "Can you and your father help Destiny back to her cabin?"

"I'm coming with you," Cameron said shortly.

"I'll be fine," Gabrielle told him. "Go. The hounds have smelled blood."

Tyler nodded slightly.
I've got her.

Sidney and Madison and Gabrielle's mother were already gathering around, helping Destiny back on her feet, masking her from the paparazzi. They would make sure she got back to the cabin.

Ronny was scrabbling and scraping at Seth's fist, trying to get him to let go of his coat. He was making coughing and gurgling noises, which probably meant Seth had too tight a grip on his clothes and was cutting off some of his breath. But for right now, Seth didn't care a whole hell of a lot.

He looked at Gabrielle. "Sorry, Ellie. Get Destiny inside. I'll deal with Ronny."

"It's fine," she told him with a quick, reassuring smile. "So far you haven't shown them your face. Keep your back to them and it'll be a non-starter because Ronny isn't going to talk to them once you get through explaining to him why that isn't a good idea."

Admiration stirred beneath Seth's anger. Gabrielle had pinpointed the one weak link in the family's protection against the paparazzi, even in the middle of the current crisis. That required an amount of clear-headed thinking that even some soldiers under fire couldn't come up with.

"Come, Ronny," Cameron said, grabbing his son-in-law's other elbow. "You have a date with a dark alley."

Between the two of them, they dragged Ronny toward the back of the cabin, pushing through fresh snow that was almost knee-deep. It was powdery and light and coated the bottom of Seth's new jeans with sparkling snowflakes.

The back of the cabin was hardly a dark alley, but it was away from the prying lenses of the paparazzi and any lodge staff. The lakeshore started a dozen yards away and there were a few stunted furs there, but between the evergreens and the cabin lay untouched snow. They were completely alone.

Seth and Cameron let Ronny go and stepped back. Seth was ready for Ronny's natural reaction. Ronny curled his hand into a fist and swung.

Seth let Ronny's fist smack into his open hand and gripped it. Hard. "You want to make it about muscle, we can do that," he said quietly. "But I've got three inches on you and about twenty pounds, all of it muscle. Go right ahead, Ronny. Start swinging. Whenever your ego is ready."

Ronny reconsidered. He stepped back and swore at him instead. Seth had heard far worse and waited it out. Even Cameron was unmoved.

Finally, Ronny seemed to realize that neither of them was going to go away. He pulled at his ski jacket, straightening it. "Nice guys, two on one," he muttered.

"While you just pick on women on crutches," Seth shot back. "You're a real prince, Ronny."

"And I'm just here enjoying the view," Cameron pointed out. "You deserve everything Seth's dishing out, Ronny. And it appalls me to say that, when you are married to my daughter. What you did to her was disgusting. I wish I'd had the guts to step up before Seth had. My only excuse is that I've grown too used to your ways. Well, no longer. I'm not putting up with your crap any more. I suspect, after what you just did out there, Destiny won't either. You shamed us all and you embarrassed Destiny in front of the whole world. If you don't go back to Destiny and say you're sorry, using the most abject and profound language you can invent, you'll have lost my respect and your wife. And if you've got any sense at all, Ronny, I really hope you count the later as the more crucial of the two."

Ronny flushed. "The great Cameron Sherborne. Why the hell should I listen to you? You've done nothing but run me down since I met Destiny. I tried so hard to impress you, but you never gave me the time of day...until now when there's a chance I might stain the family name.
Now
you have time. Ironic, huh? Don't you think it's a little late to be giving lectures? They might have come in a little more useful a few years ago when I could have done with the help."

Cameron's lips thinned. "Are you drunk, Ronny?"

Seth wondered the same thing. There was sweat on the younger man's temples and exactness to his speech that may mean he was trying very hard to pronounce words correctly. Seth remembered the way Destiny had thrown back an entire half of a champagne cocktail at the family lunch two days before. Co-dependencies?

"Was Destiny drinking out on the slope, Ronny?" Seth asked.

Cameron glanced at him.

Ronny blinked. "How the hell would I know?"

Cameron narrowed his eyes, thinking hard. "She had several drinks at lunch," he said slowly. "So did Ronnie."

"Carry a hip flask, Ronny?" Seth asked.

Ronnie told him what to do with himself, an anatomically impossible command.

"What do you have in it, I wonder?" Cameron mused.

Ronnie curled his lip and gave vent to some more language.

Seth sighed. "I've heard enough of this," he told Cameron. "Let's find out."

"Yes," Cameron said. "I agree it's worth knowing."

Seth grabbed Ronny by the scruff again without telegraphing what he intended.

Ronny squawked, but the sound was cut off by the grip Seth got on Ronny's collar. The down-filled vest squeaked awkwardly in his grip, but the parker was designed to withstand the stresses of Olympic level sports and would hold Ronny's weight without problems. Seth started patting down the breast pockets first and found the flask quickly.

"He wasn't even hiding it," Seth said, fishing the flask out. He dropped Ronny back on his feet, unscrewed the silver container and sniffed it. The licorice smell made him wrinkle his nose. "That's odd. Not your everyday tipple. I was expecting something that wouldn't show up on your breath. What is it, Ronny?"

Ronny just swore again. His face had lost any color.

Seth handed the flask over to Cameron, who sniffed it, then dipped his little finger into the rim and licked it. Cameron gave a short laugh. "Unbelievable." He laughed again, the sound completely without mirth. "It's Absinthe. My son-in-law is hooked on Absinthe." He screwed the lid back on with violent turns of his wrist and thrust the flask back at Ronny. "The Green Muse of the poets. I'd been more amused if you had a poetic bone in your body, Ronny, but you run a clothing business and from what my reports tell me, not a booming one at that. So what the hell are you doing sucking Absinthe? Is my daughter an alcoholic, too, Ronny? Did you drag her down with you?"

Seth put his hand on Cameron's shoulder, holding the man back. "Wait," he said softly. "Now is not the time for this, Cameron. He needs to be sober. He needs to dry out."

"Hello! You know I'm right here, right?" Ronny said dryly. "I'm still listening."

"You've demonstrated you can barely function properly. You're lucky we're treating you like a human being," Cameron snapped.

Ronny licked his lips.

Cameron seemed to relent a little. He pushed his hands through his still thick hair. "Perhaps you should just fly home to New York, you and Destiny. Use the jet. We can take commercial flights home after the break. I can file a plan and you can be home in time for dinner tonight."

Ronny had already lost all his color. Now his face seemed to turn grey and sickly. Seth honestly wondered if he was about to have a heart attack. Had long term abuse of Absinthe had stressed him in ways that his body couldn't withstand?

"No," Ronny said, his voice bodiless. "I'm staying here."

"Be reasonable," Cameron said gently. "Your wife is injured. You both need downtime. This family doesn't bring the best out in people when it's together. I know that. If you go back to New York and have Christmas alone, it'll be quiet."

"I said '
no
!'" Ronny screamed.

The sound of his voice echoed off the icy lake and the trees.

Seth was startled by Ronny's vehemence.

Cameron lifted a hand, like he was soothing a child or a fretting horse. "Ronny," he began.

Ronny reached under his parker.

Seth was triggered into action. He couldn't have said exactly what it was that set off his instincts. Something in Ronny's expression. The angle of his hand as he reached. The accumulation of details and Seth's sum total of experience with people reaching beneath their coats for weapons.

He didn't think about what to do. He didn't have time, because he was suddenly in the situation and caught flat-footed. He put his hand on Cameron's chest and shoved hard, pushing Cameron through four feet of air, to land on his butt in more fresh snow, just like his daughter had a few minutes before. Cameron landed harder, but there were no cameras to see this time. And he landed well out of range of Ronny's reach, if what he was pulling out was anything other than a gun.

Seth stepped in between Cameron and Ronny and faced Ronny, reaching for his wrist where it was emerging from the parker. At the same time, he reached under his own coat, and under the sweater, for the gun tucked into the waistband at the back of his jeans as a temporary holster. He didn't draw it and wouldn't until he knew what was going on. But he curled his hand over the grip, as he grasped Ronny's wrist and slowed the draw.

The knife cleared Ronny's parker, nicked the zipper teeth with a little "krrrick" sound that made him think of summer crickets. The blade kept coming around in a wide flat arc. Too wide. Seth kept his elbow locked to hold Ronny's arm, but the knife blade was heading for his throat. He threw his head back and felt the knife graze past his windpipe before he could slow it down and finally bring it to a halt, quivering, the blade glinting in mid-air.