More Than Meets the Ink (32 page)

She looked warily at him, but he smiled and waved at her, signaling for her to open the door.

Tate frowned but opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too,” he said, his smile all teeth as he punched her in the face.

* * *

The pain in her jaw woke her up just as she was being tied to a chair. By Aidan, of all people.

“Aidan? What the hell…?”

“You couldn’t let it go; you had to push and push, mock me at every step! Why the fuck is it that you can never do as you’re told?”

Tate was at total loss for words. Was she having a hallucination?

“Is it that difficult? How stupid are you, really?”

“What? What the hell are you talking about? You’re hurting me. Please let me go!”

He ignored her, finished tightening her wrists together at her back with the duct tape, and faced her. “You stupid little bitch, how difficult was it to do the right thing? Tell me, I’d like to know.”

“What are you saying? What right thing? This is insane, Aidan. You left me, remember?”

“You chose this stinky place over me! You were supposed to close this joint or sell it to that Italian, and crawl back begging for me to take you back. I’d have done that, allowed you to be part of my life again. Given you a sense of belonging, a purpose. But no, what does Tate do? She sticks to this hellhole no matter what, come hell or high water, through debts, fires, and threats. All just to show me you can do it without me. To spit in my face!” he yelled.

Tate was having difficulty following him; her face throbbed, and she felt queasy, panicked, and as frantic as she was, she found it extremely difficult to focus her attention on finding a way out of this mess. On top of that, Aidan angrily pacing up and down in front of her with that damn gun pointed at her was triggering her gag reflex. She was so going to lose her breakfast—not very ladylike, or effective for that matter, but still. From the little she understood, it was clear the guy was nuts. Aidan, the well-adapted, successful, handsome, clean-cut top lawyer, was one nut short of a fruitcake, to put it mildly, and she was alone, unprotected, and at his mercy tied to a chair. She pulled at her wrists, but the tape had been wound tightly. She needed to get her hands free, find a way to get some help. That gun and the big canister of gasoline in front of her were quite telling; she was going to die, one way or the other. If it was all up to Aidan, she was checking out today.

What she wouldn’t give now to have the panic button James had given her. He was an honorable guy; in spite of her despicable behavior yesterday, she was sure he’d answer her distress call. But the watch with the damn button was somewhere upstairs, lying around, forgotten. He’d lectured her again and again on the need of wearing it, but she hadn’t listened. She never did. Maybe she did deserve to die after all, if nothing else, then just for her sheer stupidity. And for the way she’d treated James too; that alone should grant her a one-way ticket to the depths of hell.

“Look at me, you whore! I am talking to you!” he said with a snarl, waving the gun in her face, obviously still hating when he wasn’t the center of attention.

She tried to placate him. “Aidan, I don’t know what it is you think I did to you, but—”

“What you did to me?” A creepy, crazy laugh tore from his throat. “You made me look like a moron, that’s what you did! You and this stupid place, mocking me at every turn!” He darted toward her and gave her face a fierce slap that made her tumble and fall to the floor with the chair, bringing the nearby table down. The sound of breaking glass and falling plates and cutlery clattered around her. “Everyone, from my boss to my colleagues, all saw and understood how you disrespected me! You looked down at all my attempts to help you see the error of your ways. But I’m done playing nice with you.”

He wasn’t making any sense, she thought, terrified, looking at him from the floor. There were pieces of glass everywhere, and she wasn’t sure whether she’d hurt herself in the fall; all she could feel was her throbbing face. Realizing a fairly big piece of glass was within her reach, she grabbed it and hid it in between her hands. If Aidan didn’t notice, she could use it to try to saw the duct tape.

“Get up, you worthless imbecile!” he said, jerking her up with one of her arms. She yelped in pain from the sudden movement, but she kept her hands fisted.

He got her chair standing upright again and continued yelling into her face. “Was it too much to ask to sell out as I suggested at the beginning? Even your mother and that moron Elle agreed with me. But no, you had to prove everyone wrong! I was the one who orchestrated that first fire; I sneaked in, set the rag on fire, and later called in a tip to the fire department about seeing smoke. It was my present to you, ungrateful bitch, so it’d be easier for you to give up the place. I was sure the mounting debts from the fire would make you see what a money pit Rosita’s was, but no, you wouldn’t listen to reason, you kept going! I really hoped the e-mails would eventually change your mind and scare you enough. Even when I left you, I thought you’d eventually come back to me, where you belong. And maybe you would have if your boyfriend hadn’t appeared on the scene. After all the time I spent on you, and you had to go opening your legs for that thug.” He paced some more, shaking his head at the same time. “I was feeling magnanimous, ready to take you back that night I came to invite you for a drink, but you dared to turn me down. Even after that slap to the face, I still tried to be understanding and forgiving. I thought if I gave you time, you’d come to your senses and break things up with him, but no, of course not. You defied me at every step; you get off on it. Two nights ago, when I saw him kissing you in the entrance of the restaurant as if he owned you, I knew that was it. I’m through playing games with you. Now I wouldn’t want you even if you came crawling back to me on your hands and knees.”

“You were the one sending those e-mails?” She needed him talking—sawing her way through the wide tape was going to take some time, especially as her pulse was so frantic and erratic. She suspected her wrist was the part getting the more damage.

“Of course I sent them. Did you really think Clint was smart enough to cover his tracks in the cyber world? Please! He’s an asshole, I give you that, but that’s all. He isn’t in any way a mastermind. Although he is going to come in handy; he’s going to get blamed for all this. It was such a lucky stroke to find out about his debts and his connection to Old Vito. I decided on the spot he was going to be my scapegoat. You see, one of the sucky parts of being a partner is to have to take several pro bono cases. Those have granted me access to certain acquaintances of doubtful reputation that are more than happy to throw incendiary bombs and frame another for it.”

“You framed Clint?” No matter how important it was to free her hands, she could not help but stop and look at Aidan, flabbergasted. My God, who was this man? She didn’t know him, not at all. “You’re responsible for the gasoline-filled bottles too?”

“Of course, you brainless twerp. The day you fired him, I’d been watching this place. After leaving here totally pissed, he went to a bar and got smashed. He’s such a sour drunk, whining and bitching at you for firing him. When he went home to sleep it off, I came back here, just in time to see you kissing
him
out there. I couldn’t let you get away with that anymore, so I decided then and there I was going to end it and let Clint take the fall. I’m going to burn down this shithole with you in it, and Clint is going to go to jail for it. I got a bail bondsman to get him out, and I made sure he went home, where those acquaintances of mine will make sure he stays, drugged up to his ears with sleeping pills. He’s going to have no alibi.”

“Neither will you.”

“Oh, but I do. I’m at the moment traveling downtown to see one of my clients from the pro bono cases. One of the guys watching out for poor sleepy Clint, as a matter of fact.”

At that moment, she heard the door, lifted her eyes and saw James standing there. Her breath caught in her throat.

“How nice of you to come through the front door!” Aidan chuckled while turning toward James with the gun pointing at him.

James ignored him and sought Tate with his eyes. “Are you all right?” When she nodded, he turned to look at Aidan and shrugged. “You’re in the middle of the dining area, your back to the wall, so there’s no way to surprise you, not through the front door, not through the back door. So no need for theatrics. I thought I’d take the direct approach and come in so we could have a chat, man-to-man. Tate doesn’t really need to be here; your problem is with this place and with me. I forced Tate to keep going despite the e-mails and the threats, while all she wanted was to close it down,” he lied.

Tate was shaking her head, but her throat was shut tight, and she couldn’t get a word out. All she could see was James and that gun pointing at him, threatening his life. She couldn’t allow that; she loved him too much.

Aidan laughed. “How cavalier of you to come to her rescue. Sorry, but no can do. Keep your hands up where I can see them, and come in slowly. Now that you’re here, you’ll have to burn down with the place.”

“Very smooth move trying to frame Clint for your doings, especially because of his involvement with Vito. I have to say, you had us fooled for a while. You won’t get away with this, though. We followed you for a while at the beginning, and we have some surveillance footage of you. Luckily one of my associates happened to have it with him while interviewing the employees of the Internet cafés you used to send the e-mails. They all recognized you from the pictures; they didn’t recognize Clint or any of Vito’s employees. I’m not the only one that knows that; you’re going down, man. And the guys you used to try to burn this place down yesterday will be found, and they will talk.”

As James closed in, Tate kept cutting the tape. The canister of gasoline Aidan had at his feet was a precursor of things to come, and it scared her to death. James didn’t seem scared, though, his gaze on Aidan, his moves controlled.

Aidan laughed, his crazy eyes narrowing. “I’m a good lawyer, James, and the connection with the Internet cafés is flimsy at best. You got nothing on me, no evidence. And those guys, if they are ever found, they won’t talk; I’m the only thing keeping them out of jail. Besides, no one would believe them over me.”

James reached Tate and tried to stand in front of her.

“Nuh-uh, move to stand by her side.”

The tape finally gave, and Tate’s hands were free. Damn, she should have taken a knife instead of a piece of glass; it would have been more effective as a weapon.

“So what’s your plan? Because the police are on their way. I called it in before I came,” James said.

“No, you didn’t; you had no reason to. The plan is to put a bullet in you both and then burn this place down. As you’ve been a particularly painful thorn in my side, I’ll shoot you first, let Tate see how you bleed to death,” he said, pointing his gun at James.

Oh no, she couldn’t allow this. James was in this mess because of her. “James has nothing to do with this. Your quarrel is with me,” she said, and before thinking it through, she stood and swung her chair toward Aidan, who turned his gun on her right away.

“No!” she heard James yelling. Two shots rang in her ears at the same time that James tackled her and covered her with his body.

From under James, she saw Aidan falling on his knees, surprise on his face, blood seeping from his chest from the same spot where seconds before had beaten the heart of a madman.

Jack was approaching them, holding a sniper rifle, his finger still on the trigger. He’d come through the back door.

Jack was talking, and James was asking her something while checking her over, but she didn’t understand either one of them. She heard them from far away.

Finally they got through to her. “Are you hurt? Answer, princess!”

She looked at herself, not totally sure. She felt nothing, absolutely nothing.

“What were you thinking swinging that chair at him? You almost gave me a heart attack.”

What had she been thinking? She wasn’t sure of that one either. “I was trying to help.”

“Baby, Jack and me had everything under control.”

She heard the police sirens, and as she felt James scooping her up in his arms, she snorted and passed out.

Chapter Fourteen

Tate turned off the engine and, taking a fortifying breath, stepped out of the car. Time to man up and bite the bullet. What was the worst that could happen really? He could send her to hell, but that’s where she was now, so no biggie.

It had been a week since the whole mess with Aidan. Seven days since James had disappeared on her—after coming so bravely to her rescue, of course. He’d taken her to the hospital, made sure she was all right, and gotten Elle to come to stay with her. Then he’d vanished. And rightfully so. She’d been such a bitch to him. No wonder he’d run like hell and hadn’t tried to contact her.

She’d woken up in the hospital with James by her side looking shaken and worried. She’d wanted to apologize so badly, but she’d been pumped up with tranquilizers, her mind fuzzy, and she hadn’t known where to start. He’d seemed strained and distant, as if a wall had been erected between them. She’d hated it.

“
Sorry
…” she barely got out. “
For this and
—”

He hadn’t acknowledged her words in any way. “
Elle is probably already here. I’ll go get her
,” he’d said, heading for the door and opening it.

He was going for Elle and not coming back, she’d been sure of it; it was written all over him. A sense of urgency had gripped her; she couldn’t let him go, she had to clear this thing between them, she’d made a horrible mistake. “
Stay
,” she’d whispered to him. “
Stay, please
.”

He had turned to look at her and shook his head. She hadn’t been able to breathe. His stare was so hard, so cold. Sad but resolute. He was done with her. She’d needed him close, his scent surrounding her, but all she could smell was the sickening stench of disinfectant. And her fear.