Summer Kisses (192 page)

“You win.” She got out of the swimming pool, grabbed a towel from the table, and plopped onto the lounge. He watched her from the water, waiting for her request.

“Swim for me,” she said.

He was on the swim team in high school and college. She’d always loved to watch his butterfly stroke. “If I won,” he joked, “how come I’m the one who has to swim?” In truth he was flattered and would have been disappointed if she hadn’t asked.

“I’ll juggle a ball for you if you want, but I don’t swim as prettily as you do. Go on, stop stalling. You know you want to show off.”

He swam for her.

“You look so wonderful when you do that. You still practice don’t you?”

He pushed up out of the pool, dripping water. He took her towel and rubbed it over his body before he sat on the edge of the lounge. She scooted over and made more room for him.

“Yeah, I still practice.” He let his gaze roam over her, taking in her lithe muscular body, barely covered by a bikini held together with flimsy ties. The cooling night air had her nipples pebbled beneath her wet top, and goose bumps raised over the exposed parts of her body. Which was most of it. His Speedos grew uncomfortably tight while silence stretched out between them.

“Dave, why are you staring at me like that?”

He pulled his gaze from her body. “I want to kiss you.”

She tried to get up.

He took hold of her shoulders. “Stay.”

“No. You know about Sandro.”

“Yeah, I know. But I’m here, Sandro’s not.”

“Dave, I’m involved.” She tried to squirm away.

“You really think he’s being faithful?”

She stopped squirming. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh, I don’t know. He’s in Italy. He’s a superstar who no doubt has a legion of groupies... Besides, you’ve never kissed anyone besides him.”

“I . . . ”

Her blush told him she regretted confessing that tidbit.

“You need something to compare, don’t you think?” He reached behind the chair and lowered it to the reclined position. His confidence was building . . . from the liquor he’d earlier consumed or from her heady admiration of his swimming. He didn’t know. He just knew he’d loved Nia years longer than Sandro even knew about her.

Nia tried to scoot away. Dave laid a leg across her body, holding her trapped.

“Dave, I don’t know. Wait. Please don’t.”

He ignored her and kissed her anyway. She lay pliant and unresponsive in his arms. “Kiss me back, Nia.”

“I . . .”

“Just once. This can be an experiment. You don’t plan to kiss only one guy in your life, do you?”

Her gaze grew thoughtful. In all his bourbon-laced confidence, he knew he could win her over. He had to. He kissed her again, using slight force to urge her lips apart.

She didn’t struggle. But she still didn’t return his kiss.

“Please, Nia. Kiss me. I love you. I’ve waited all these years for you to grow up.”

“You love me?” She froze and something that could have been alarm, if he’d been in the mood to analyze it, entered her eyes.

“I’ve loved you forever, Nia.”

“Oh, Dave . . . I had no idea . . .” She drew a breath. “Just a kiss.”

She had the look that she hoped a kiss would pacify him and then she could make her escape. He could have agreed; he didn’t remember. He just knew that when she stopped fighting and started kissing him, he lost control. Somehow he had her naked, and he was naked. He was fingering her. Of course, by that time she was fighting again, but he easily overpowered her. He had to get inside her.

He forced himself between her legs.

She squirmed and fought harder. “Dave, no!”

“Nia–” He tried to ignore her panicked cries. He didn’t want to stop now. He couldn’t. He pushed against her.

Suddenly, he was shoved backwards and off the lounge. He flailed trying to save himself from splashing into the pool. He heard Nia’s scream as he went under water.

He came up sputtering, ready to kill.

“Hey, asshole, I distinctly heard her say no. That means stop. They forget to teach you that in FBI school?” His older brother Jared stood glaring at him.

Nia wriggled off the lounge, grabbing the towel and her bikini before she dashed inside the house.

Jared marched forward. “What the fuck are you doing, you jerk off? You’re the example mom and dad keep throwing up in my face, following in dad’s footsteps. The big successful FBI man. About to rape a woman. Not just any woman, but Nia, the girl next door that we all love. Jesus H. Christ, she’s the most famous woman soccer player in the world, and you’re treating her like a whore.”

“Shut up, Jared. Just shut the fuck up.” Dave laid his head against the tiled pool ledge. He felt sick inside.

Jared left his date, who he’d brought over for a swim, cooling her heels in the living room, while he walked Nia home.

She wouldn’t speak to Dave any more that week, even though he’d gone over and tried to apologize. She refused to come out of her room, leaving him in an uncomfortable conversation with her mom.

A month later, he got her to take his call and accept his apology. Then in a whirlwind romance after the World Cup, Sandro had whisked her off to Italy so fast, that Dave never saw her again, until they moved to New Jersey and into his jurisdiction. He never had to heal her broken heart.

Even now, years later, the memory of the near-rape had the ability to make Dave’s stomach twist in knots so painful he wanted to hurl. He slowly drew in a long breath of air, releasing tense muscles.

When she and Sandro moved back stateside, a desire to see her, to see if her marriage was working, to see if she perhaps hated him, had him seeking her out. Nia welcomed him with open arms. Still crazy in love with her Italian superstar, and proudly showing off her new son.

The visit was painful, but he deserved the pain. He thought he’d never love again.

And now Nia was missing, in the hands of hardened criminals who wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. Dave would do everything in his power—and beyond—to rescue her. He couldn’t afford even the slightest mistake. He wouldn’t fail—disappoint—her this time.

~~~

Nia saw lights ahead. Not lights moving in from a distance like headlights. But bright, tall lights. A building. Hopefully, people—good guys. If there were no people, at least a phone. Please God let there be a phone. Hope blossomed within her. She forced the blocks of ice masquerading as her feet to move faster.

As she drew closer, she saw it was a convenience store, and even from a distance she could see it was dark inside. Closed. At the last moment, she veered off into the field surrounding the store. Perhaps the mob guys thought she’d gone into the woods by the house. But perhaps they hadn’t.

Until she had her bearings—knew whether the phone was inside or outside, had an escape route mapped out—she wasn’t approaching the store.

Taking care to move slow and stay low, she circled the perimeter. No phone outside. But she saw one through the windows, just outside the women’s restroom door. A good thing. Now that she had stopped running, nature called. She hoped the store opened soon. She didn’t want to answer the call out in the open fields.

Fat, fluffy flakes started falling faster than before. She sought shelter between the dumpster and the back wall and huddled down to wait. But it was difficult to control her shivering.

A car door slamming startled her awake. Amazingly, she must have dozed. Slowly, she stretched stiff, frozen muscles, fingers and toes tingling painfully. Forcing herself to move despite the pain, she shook her head like a wet dog to knock off accumulated snow, and then peeked around the corner.

A man in uniform was unlocking the front door. Yes! She wanted to rush the door, but she made herself wait. It might not be as safe of a haven as it looked.

Ten minutes passed before she scanned the area again. She didn’t note anything suspicious though the now-heavy snow limited her view. She decided if it limited her view, it would also limit anyone watching, too.

Bells hanging from the door tinkled as she entered. Quaint. The warmth inside made her popsicle-like body parts ache even more.

“Good morning,” she said to the skinny red-haired clerk who was staring at her. She must look a fright with her black eye, bruised face and wild appearance.

The clerk nodded his head, questions clear in his blue-eyed gaze. “Cold enough for you?”

“Certainly is.” She considered telling the man a bunch of bad guys were after her, but she hesitated. She didn’t know if the mobsters came here for their morning coffee. Or if this guy and the mob guys were good buddies, as they’d say in Texas. Maybe he was even a mob guy in disguise. Mentally, she cringed, realizing she was close to losing it.

“Got coffee going,” he added. “Should be ready in a few minutes.”

“Sounds great,” she said, deciding to keep quiet. It was best to trust no one, call for help, and be ready to bolt if that plan failed.

“Out awfully early this morning?” Although the clerk was friendly enough, the suspicious look had never left his face.

She thought quickly. “I . . . uh, had car trouble. A . . . blowout. I hit my face. On the airbag.” She touched her bruised face, courtesy of Mikey. “I’ve been walking an hour. My cell’s dead. I need to use your phone to call for help.” A makeshift story, but it would do. She pulled the dollars she’d gotten from the truck out of the jacket pocket. “Can you make change?”

His suspicious look softened as he handed her coins in exchange for a couple of dollars. “Sounds bad, my wife was in a wreck about this time last year. She was on the way to the doctor, she was pregnant. Icy roads always a danger. I told her she should reschedule.”

Nia felt an immediate bond with the unknown pregnant woman. Yep, definitely losing it. She pulled her thoughts together. “I hope she and the baby were okay?” She noticed a wedding band on his left hand. She would have thought him too young to be married. Especially married with a baby.
Didn’t matter. Find the damn phone.

“Ah, yeah. We got us a nine month old little girl. It’ll be our first Christmas with a baby.”

Right now, Nia didn’t want to consider Christmas was only a few weeks away. Feeling the clock ticking, she was getting impatient with the chitchat but she felt herself smile and say, “That will be wonderful.”

He seemed to remember what she needed. Maybe it was her pained smile. “Oh. Sorry. Phone’s right around the corner,” he added.

“Thank you.” She hurried to the phone, looking at the surroundings. While windows lined the wall, they were plate glass, not the kind that opened. She peeked into the bathrooms—only one high window in each. Very tiny high windows. No way could she fit even if she could reach one by standing on the toilet. She didn’t like not having an escape route, but she had no choice. She had to use the phone. Now that it was almost daylight, it would be that much easier to find her if she set out to look for another phone. She would just have to hurry.

First she called Sandro’s cell phone. His voice mail picked up. “Sandro, it’s me. I got away. I’m–” Where was she?

“Excuse me, sir, what is the name and address of this place?” she called to the clerk. He told her and she repeated the information. “Oh, Sandro, where are you? Why do they want you?” She rested her head against the phone. The cold metal helped her collect herself. “I’m calling Dave, Sandro. He knows something.” Another pause, then she added in a whisper. “I love you. Keep safe.”

She dialed Dave’s office and asked for him.

“He isn’t in yet. Can I help you?”

“Will you give me his cell phone number?”

The nameless voice on the other end immediately took on a suspicious tone. “Who is this?”

“My name is Nia Croc–”

“Nia! Shit!” Then he calmed. “Nia, where are you?”

It was her turn to be suspicious. “Who are you?”

“I’m Frankie. I’m on Dave’s team–”

“Where’s Dave?”

“Scouring the country for you. Where are you?”

“Sandro. Where’s he?”

“I don’t know–”

“Daniele?” Tears welled into her eyes as her panic grew.

“Now there I can help you. Danny’s in a safe house with his aunt and uncle.”

Relief warred with confusion. “Giuseppe and Luciana? Are they in danger, too?”

“Possibly. We wanted to be cautious. And we figured Danny would feel better with someone he knew. How about you? Are you safe?”

“For the moment. I got away.”

“Where are you now, Nia? Tell me, and we’ll come get you.”

“I’m–”

“Hey, what are you doing?” The clerk’s fearful voice startled her into silence.

“Sit down and shut up,” a man instructed. She heard a ripping sound.

She knew that voice. She glanced around the corner, then quickly pulled back. “Oh, dear God,” she whispered, heart pounding. Giovanni was wrapping duct tape around the clerk who was sitting in a chair. She remembered she was on the phone. “They found me. I’ve got to go.”

“Honey, no. Nia, don’t hang up.” Frankie’s voice tinged on frantic. “Tell me where you are. We can help you.”

She whispered the information. “I’ve got to leave now, or I’ll be trapped.”

“Stall them. I’ll get someone there as fast as I can.”

“The phone’s toward the back and around that corner,” she heard Giovanni say, his voice growing closer. Her gaze darted frantically as she crept forward, intending on dashing down a back aisle and circling around. At the last second she pulled back. They were too close. No way out.

Trapped. Her body started shaking.

No. She couldn’t be trapped. She couldn’t. Not when she was so close. Choosing her only option, she ran into the women’s restroom. She decided that was too obvious and backtracked into the men’s restroom instead. She locked the door. Even though the flimsy lock would only buy her seconds.

She needed a weapon. On first glance, there was nothing obvious to use. She tore open the cabinets under the sink. Jackpot. Plumber’s tools. She hefted a large pipe wrench and slid behind the door just as the knob rattled.

“She in there?” A voice she didn’t recognize.

“Has to be. No one’s in the women’s bathroom. She never left the store, so there’s no place left for her to go. Get the key from that clerk.”