The Prada Paradox (31 page)

A few people move toward me, as if they want to help me. I wave the gun wildly, though, and they ease back. I don’t want help. Not now.

All I want is revenge.

I get to the merchant cart, and then with one shift to the left, I can see the horror behind it. Andy is prone on the ground, a knife protruding from his gut and blood staining the concrete around him. Blake is holding him, keeping pressure on the wound, and Andy makes a small sound. He’s alive, and that gives me hope, and I cling to it like a life raft.

Beside them, Janus is on his back, clearly stunned, as if Andy had got in one good blow to the head before succumbing. Or maybe Blake nailed him as he rounded the corner. I don’t know. It’s all happening too fast, and my head is too fuzzy.

“Devi,” he whispers, and bile rises in my throat merely from the sound of my name on his lips.

“Bastard.” I take the gun and point at him.

“No.” He puts one hand on the ground, then starts to push himself up. I keep my eye on those hands, terrified that he has a weapon.

“Stay down,” I say.

“I love you,” he says. “Why didn’t you ever know that? You’re mine. Mine, and you always will be.”

“No.”

“Devi,” Blake says. “It’s okay. The cops are coming.”

“We die together,” Janus says, and suddenly he’s reaching under his jacket, and I know there must be another gun under there.

I don’t hesitate. I pull the trigger, then watch as the red starburst blooms on his forehead.

He’s dead.

And I’m glad.

Chapter52

“They shouldn’t have given me morphine,” I say, through my fuzzy, happy head. “What if I like it too much again?”

“You won’t,” Blake says, holding my hand. “You’re stronger now.”

He’s right, and I smile, although I’m pretty sure it’s a goofy smile. I’ve only been awake a minute or so, and I’m still getting my bearings.

“Andy?” I ask.

“He’s fine. Amazing, actually. The knife missed everything important. The doc sewed him up and they checked him in for observation, but he’s fine. The surgeon said it couldn’t have been a cleaner wound if it had been planned.”

“That’s good,” I say. “He’s a sweet guy.”

“He’s head-over-heels for you.”

“Yeah? Well, who can blame him?” I tease. “I mean, so are you, right?”

He laughs. “You have a point.”

“And I’m okay?” They rolled me into surgery the second we got to the hospital, so Blake knows more about me than I do.

“You’re perfect,” he says, and with such conviction that I have to laugh. But the sound dies in my throat. “And Janus?”

“Dead,” Blake says. “Good job.”

“The police?”

“Tons of questions,” he says. “They’ll talk to you, too. But there are about eight thousand lawyers on the case already, and it looks like the police part will be wrapped up quickly.”

“He was about to kill me.”

Blake’s eyes shift just a little. Something that probably wouldn’t even be noticeable to most people. I, however, notice.

“Blake? What is it?”

“He didn’t have a gun. We don’t know what he was going for, but it wasn’t a gun.”

I take a second to process that information, trying to decide how I feel about it. I’ve heard so many stories of people who have shot a gun and killed someone. So many stories of regret. Of fear. Of overpowering guilt.

I don’t feel any of that. Even knowing that my shot wasn’t really fired in self-defense, I don’t regret it for a second. He tormented me. Not once, but twice. With deliberation and intent. He wanted to kill me. He wanted to take himself with me, as far as I could tell.

I wasn’t about to mourn his death. Hell, if I thought my legs could hold me, I’d stand up and dance in celebration.

From Blake’s expression, I can tell that he understands. He leans over and strokes my forehead. “You won,” he says. “You’re not a victim anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, and tears spill out of my eyes. I’ve clearly confused him, as I don’t think tears are the response he’s expecting. I manage a smile. “For what I did. For how I pushed you away. I had to do it first. Before you could. And I was so afraid that you would. That everyone would just look at me with pity again, and that I’d be in the victim’s chair all over again.”

The words spill out, and I’m not even sure if I’m making sense. But I mean it. Every word. I may not have understood what I was doing before, when I told him to get the hell out of my life. But I understand now. Mostly, I understand what I almost lost.

In a way, I guess the game was good for me. It forced me to the dark edge of the abyss. Forced me to look into it again.

Most important, it forced me to survive.

And I did survive.

“I’m sorry, too,” he says. “I knew the way your head worked. I just got so damn mad at you for overreacting that I let go of the most important part.”

“What part?”

“That I love you. That I needed to fight for you.”

“You fought for me these last couple of days,” I say, holding tight to his hand.

“Yeah, well, I’d say we fought for each other.”

Since I can’t argue with that, I smile, then sink back farther against the foam hospital pillow. “Is it over now?” I ask.

“The assassin’s dead. That’s about as over as it gets.”

I nod, because I like the sound of that.

“Of course, we still have to deal with the fallout.”

I’m immediately on alert. “Fallout?”

“The press,” he says. “We’re the hot news of the day.”

I have to laugh. Because for the first time in years, I really don’t mind.

Chapter53

“I’m your best friend,” Lindy says, one eye on me and the other on Lucy, who’s determined to steal one of the tortilla chips I’d dumped in a big ceramic bowl. “You should have told me.”

I snuggle up against Blake, completely content. “I already told you I couldn’t. No way was I putting you at risk, too.”

“So it’s really all over?” she asks.

“Yes,” Blake says firmly. From the other side of the patio, Mel echoes the sentiment. Like she’s been telling me ever since she flew out, one assassin, one target, one protector. That’s the game. And once the assassin’s out of the picture, there’s nothing left of the chase. Of course, her chase is still going strong, and she and Andy have been working together for the last few days, trying to figure out who’s the ultimate bad guy behind this thing.

Andy doesn’t say anything now, but he’s leaning against the deck railing, watching me and Blake. I can see a hint of jealousy in his eyes, but he’s been good about it. And I’m even considering fixing him up with Susie once we start filming again. Until then, I’m taking a much-needed rest.

Although I haven’t been gettingthat much rest. Not with Blake staying in my house. And in my bed.

“I still can’t believe your Prada bag was bugged,” Lindy adds.

“Not bugged,” I correct. “They stuck a GPS-type gizmo in it. So Janus could tell where we were.” I’d foundthat out when I’d taken the bag in to Prada to see if they could fix the scratch in the leather. All in all, a nasty surprise…not to mention a curiosity. Because it boosted my theory that whoever was ultimately behind this thing had something to do with the movie. Who, though, I still didn’t know.

“Have the police found out anything else?” she asks.

“Not much,” Mel answers. She’s been working with them, sharing information she’s gathered over the years. “Although they did track down Janus’s apartment.” She glances at me when she says that, and I shudder. The police had already told me about the place. One room completely filled with me. Honestly, it was creepy as hell.

“Lucy!”Lindy leaps out of her seat and manages to snag her daughter’s finger before she can shove it into the hot sauce. “You wouldnot like that.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Trouble,” she says.

I laugh, because I wish trouble were that easy.

“I should run,” Mel says, which is pretty much the cue for everyone else to leave, too. I can’t say I’m too unhappy about that. After all, I’ve been sitting wrapped in Blake’s arms for a good twenty minutes, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was getting a little turned on.

Okay, a lot turned on. And as soon as everyone’s out the door, I press myself against him. “You know what? I think I could use a shower.”

“Really?” he says, pulling me close. “What a coincidence. I could use one, too.”

Chapter54

Water sluices over me, steam billowing up. I like the way it feels. Like the misty, romantic quality. Most of all, I like the way it keeps my secrets.

He’s right outside that door, the man I want more than anything. And just thinking about his touch makes my nipples peak. Makes that sweet spot between my legs quiver. It’s so tempting to pull down the handheld showerhead and get the satisfaction I need. But I don’t want it that way. I want it only from him.

Why isn’t he coming?

Frustrated, I turn off the water. I reach outside the shower until my fingers close on a fluffy white towel. I wrap it around myself, then step out, my body still damp.

I press my palm against the closed door, ignoring the bright lights that cut through the steam. He’s over there, and yet he’s not coming in. Can’t he tell that I want him to come in?

I waver, unsure if I should make the first move. And then—working up my courage—I do just that. I pull open the door, and find him standing right there.

He’s wearing no shirt, just jeans, slung low on his hips. His chest and abs are firm and perfect, and as he pulls me close, the heat from his body seeps through the towel and into my blood.

I don’t have any time to think as he opens his mouth, drawing me in. I lift my arms, wrapping them around his neck, and between us, the towel falls away. I don’t care. All I want is this man. All I want is this moment.

I can stay like this forever…

“Cut!”

Tobias’s sharp cue cuts through my addled brain. Since it’s a semi-nude scene, most of the crew is off the set, and a female PA brings me a robe. I peel myself off Blake and slide my arms into it. I can feel myself blushing, and wonder if anyone else can tell just how aroused I really am.

Blake, I’m sure, can tell. A little fact that’s proven true when he leans down to whisper in my ear. “Tonight. We’ll finish this tonight.”

Oh, yes. We most definitely will.

“Nowthat is what I’m talking about,” Tobias says, coming over and swinging an arm around each of us. “What a fabulous first day back. Che-mis-try. You two got it. Everybody wants it.” He kisses each of us on the forehead. “Glad to have you back. Hate the circumstances, but that crazy fuck sure managed to kick up some damn fine publicity. Kids, we are going to make a mint.”

He’s rattling the words off a mile a minute, even as he’s leading Blake aside to discuss the next scene. I smile. After all, I understand his enthusiasm. The press is going nuts. Was someone really trying to kill Devi Taylor? Or was this just some big publicity stunt dreamed up by her PR team?

That, my friends, is the question of the hour.

It’s also a question I’ve refused to answer. After all, Mac is dead. So is Janus. And Blake, Andy, and I barely escaped with our lives. To me, that’s proof enough it was real. Let the damn tabloids print whatever they want. I know the truth.

And the truth is, it’s over.

I’m standing there in my robe when Mel comes over. She’s heading back to D.C. in the morning, but wanted to see at least one day of shooting.

“That was great,” she says. “And it’s spooky the way Blake looks so much like Stryker.”

“Tell him hi for me,” I say. “I know you must miss him. Was it worthwhile? Did you and Andy get any leads at all?”

“Nothing specific. But I’ve got notes. I’m going to poke around once I get back home.”

I nod. The office located on her property could give the NSA a run for its money. And since she now works for the NSA, she’s pretty much got all bases covered.

“Elliot,” I say, still figuring there must be a movie connection. “He hates me. And Marcia, even though I don’t really believe it.”

“And Tobias,” she says. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but—”

“I know. I know.” And I do. He had access. And he maybe even had motive. After all, he needs a hit as badly as I do.

“I’m following another lead, too,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“The thing is, Grimaldi’s body was never found.”

“You think Archibald Grimaldi is the one behind all of this?”

“It makes sense,” she says. “He’s rich enough to have pulled it off and then had plastic surgery to make sure no one recognized him. And he sure knows the ins and outs of the program. And every game that’s been played in the real world has somehow filtered through the online system.”

True enough, but since we are totally out of my league now, I just nod.Wow. A fake death. How freaky would that be?

“Listen,” she says, switching gears. “I’ve got to run. I’m meeting some friends from the L.A. FBI field office, and then I have to finish packing. My plane leaves first thing in the morning.”