Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy) (30 page)

BOOK: Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy)
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She
turned to Roman. “If you have any decency at all, please don’t let him do
this.”

“I’m
sorry, Dorrie.”

He
yanked her purse off her shoulder and threw it by the door, then grabbed her by
the arm, dragged her across the floor, and pushed her onto the table. She
flailed and kicked hard with her arms and legs, tearing a seam on her dress,
and exposing her leg. No matter how hard she tried, her efforts proved futile
against Roman’s superior strength. As he held her down, the gnome stepped up
and bound her wrists and ankles onto the leather straps. The table rose,
bringing her body to arm level with the gnome.

The
ugly man stood over her. Mesmerized by his grotesque features, she couldn’t
tear her eyes from him.

“That’s
right, girlie, take a last look at my before-the-pill face. Too bad you won’t
see the after.”

He’d
as good as admitted she’d not live through the ordeal. Could she bear the pain?
Did she have a choice? A shiver raced up and down her spine. Her teeth
chattered. Her hands turned icy. Maybe if she kept him talking he’d change his
mind, or a miraculous intervention would occur.

“Does
that mean you’ll take Roman’s pill, as I’ve been doing?”

The
man gave a short laugh. “No, my dear. I’ll take my own pill. It never belonged
to the fancy front of my operation.

“I
don’t understand.”  

“Well,
then I’ll explain, so someone with your limited intelligence can comprehend.

“At
one time I looked passably decent. Granted, not as handsome as the Angel Man,
but average enough to get by. That was before a chance encounter with a
deceptively docile canine stripped me of my looks and dignity, forcing me to
live underground.”

“What
happened?” She didn’t want to hear the story, but would listen to anything to
stall for time.

What
he told her was too horrible to contemplate. The disfigured man had suffered much,
deprived of human contact, as his mind grappled with the hideous deformity he’d
been forced to endure. If Dorrie weren’t in such a dire predicament, she’d feel
sorry for him. As it was, fear consumed her, blocking out other emotions.

“No
more talk. Roman. Flip the switch. I’m anxious to begin. Let’s see what she
looks like.”

The
room brightened. A huge spotlight shone down on her. Dorrie cringed at the
realization her most private parts would be exposed to this hideous creature,
as well as Roman.
God, please don’t let this happen
, she prayed to
herself. Would He hear her plea and have pity on her? Would He offer a way out?

There
wasn’t one. Dorrie knew for certain she’d die in a most humiliating and painful
way at the hands of the demon gripping a scissors and forceps, while the man
known as an angel looked on, allowing the atrocity to occur.

Or,
was there a chance? Roman couldn’t be all that bad, no matter how he insisted
he was. She’d seen the way he’d looked at her at odd times. She’d noticed how
his face softened when she spoke of their baby. There had to be a spark of
compassion lurking somewhere inside of him, but would it be enough to outweigh
his selfishness?

 

 

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

 

She
turned her head and looked straight into the Angel Man’s blue eyes. “Please,
Roman, let me go. You’re not a monster like him. Spare me, if not for myself,
but for the child. You can’t trust this man. Look at him. Our baby won’t
survive at his hands. He’ll do anything to get whole again.”

***

Roman’s
hand shook as he trained the gun on Dorrie. He could put it down, since she
already lay helpless on the gurney, but his hand had a will of its own. He dare
not release the hold, or he’d relent to his conscience.

“Come
over here, pretty one. Grab the instruments. You can be my nurse,” the man said
to him.

Snapped
from his trance, Roman put the gun in his pocket and stepped up beside the man.
At sight of the implements glinting sharply beside the vials of liquid on the
counter, his stomach roiled.

“Afraid
they’ll bite? Go ahead. Pick them up. Time’s wasting.”

“No.”

“Of
course you will. You can’t back out. You’re in this as much as I am.”

“I’d
like to think I have more compassion than to harm a helpless female.”

The
squat man shook his head. “Roman, Roman, do not allow her histrionics to sway
you. She’s only a bitch, nothing more. You don’t need her. Think of all the
riches and fame you’d lose.”

Roman
drew the gun out, this time pointing it at the man instead of Dorrie, then stepped
back to the gurney. “Money isn’t everything.”

With
one hand, he kept the gun trained on the man. With the other, he loosened
Dorrie’s bonds. Later, he may regret what he’d given up, but something inside
told him to do the right thing. Call it love, compassion or some other
sentiment. Whatever its name, it swept over him, obliterating common sense.

 

 

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

 

God
had answered her prayers. Relief flooded through Dorrie as she clumsily raised
herself up, legs hanging over the gurney. “Roman, thank you. I’ll never forget
your kindness.”

“Promise
you’ll take good care of the little one.”

“You
have my word.”

Her
legs were so stiff as she clambered off she almost fell to the floor. Instinct
told her to grab her purse from the corner by the door. She awkwardly bent down
to retrieve it.

About
to turn the knob, she heard a jangle. “Wait a minute, Dorrie. Take these before
I change my mind.”

The
SUV keys sailed through the air and into her hands.

***

As
Roman turned for a last look at Dorrie, a picture flashed through his mind of
both of them smilingly bent over a bassinet where their sleeping child lay. A
pang hit him at the realization he’d never experience such a domestic scene.
He’d sold his soul for money. Too late he’d learned the meaning of love.

Instead
of wallowing in emotion, he better pay attention to the squat one who groped
for something on the counter. Roman stepped closer, in time to see the man lift
a vial and hurl it. Before Roman could duck, the splash hit his face and
dripped down his neck, engulfing wherever it touched with hot, searing pain. He
stumbled back, as the acid bore deeper.

“You
thought I was ugly. Wait till you see how you’ll look,” the man said, laughing.

Through
his anger and terror, Roman aimed the barrel at the squat man and pulled the
trigger. At sound of the painful grunt, he knew he’d hit his mark, but had no
time to investigate exactly where. He must wash himself immediately.

Off
balance from the pain, he bumped into the gurney and the doorway, then stumbled
into the hallway. With every step the pain worsened, making him feel like
ripping his face off to get relief. Already he feared he was too late, and that
water would not be enough to heal him.

Whether
or not the squat man had survived, it didn’t matter. He’d already exacted his
revenge.

 

 

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

 

Fortunately
Dorrie remembered where the wall parted to gain access to the garage. Once on
the other side, she willed her body to move fast, which wasn’t easy.

Her
stomach jumped so much, she wouldn’t be surprised if the baby made its
appearance then and there. Given the present circumstances, it was a miracle
labor hadn’t already begun. “You can do it. Stay in there, honey,” she pleaded.

She
spied the silver SUV. Half expecting to hear footsteps following, she clicked
the keyless entry, stumbled up and clumsily climbed aboard. The engine’s roar
echoed in the almost bare garage. She reached for the visor to press the opener
and the door whirred wide to reveal the dark night.

Caution
bade her to concentrate and take care as she approached the guard station. Once
she’d reached the booth with its bright overhead light, her knees shook. Would
the horrid little man have since gained the upper hand and contacted the guard?
Would she be stopped? Could she break through the gate, if she had to?

As
the guard peered at her, she did her best to act nonchalant, and hoped he
couldn’t tell how her breath had caught in her throat. Would he wonder why she,
instead of Roman sat behind the wheel? His knit brows said she would not get
off easy, so she flashed him her best commercial smile.  

“Hi,
Ms. Donato. Where’s Mr. Remington? You didn’t put him in the glove compartment,
did you?”

She
laughed at his attempt at humor. “No, Hal, Roman chose to stay. You know how he
is. When he gets caught up in a project, he can’t tear himself away. He’ll
likely stick around all night. Anyway, he gave me the keys and told me to get
some sleep and come back in the morning.”

“No
offence, but since that’s his vehicle you’re driving, protocol says I buzz him
for an okay.”

Her
heart hammered. “You could, but he’s so busy he probably won’t answer.  He
told me to leave because I was too much of a distraction.”

She
shifted in the seat, enough for the guard to notice the torn seam on her dress.
Batting her eyes, she said, “Roman does get carried away at times. It’s good to
know he still cares, even in my condition. Of course, he should, since he got
me this way.”

The
guard blushed and flashed a speculative look, before reaching for the phone.
“Sorry, but I have to check anyway. You understand. It’s my job.”

Dorrie
bit her lip, wondering what Roman would say. Would he change his mind and order
her back? His throwing away such enormous wealth out of the kindness of his
heart seemed too good to be true.

The
guard held onto the receiver. The minutes ticked by without an answer from
Roman. “Mr. Remington, are you there? Can you pick up, please,” the guard
repeated.

The
back of her neck prickled as she awaited a response. Why hadn’t Roman answered?
He had to have heard the call and must realize the guard would need approval to
let her out.  

“Voice
mail won’t answer. I’ll try his cell,” the guard said, pressing speed dial.
 

After
another few minutes, he looked up sheepishly. “I guess you’re right. He’s too
busy to answer.”

Dorrie
flashed another winning smile. “I suspected that would be the case. I know
you’re doing your job, but it is late. May I please go? Don’t worry. I’ll
return bright and early, in time for my day shift, with the SUV all in one
piece. Look at it this way. He wouldn’t have given me the keys if he didn’t
trust me. My Angel Man has been so kind to me, letting me take his pill and
all. I’d never let him down.”

She
shifted in the seat so he could again see the broken seam of her dress. That,
combined with the knowing inflection in her voice, set off another blush. Her
scruples had fled. It didn’t matter if he thought she and Roman were engaged in
a torrid affair. Actually, it was partially true, at least for that steamy
night which she vaguely remembered. One little drink had gotten her into this
mess. Would her wits get her out of it?

The
guard’s brows still knit in indecision.

“Look
at it this way. Do you think for one minute I’d be dumb enough to steal his
SUV? Don’t forget, I’ve got a plum job here, and don’t want to lose it.
Besides, it’s not like he doesn’t know his way in and out of my house anyway,
if you know what I mean. It’s late, and I’m awfully tired. Can I please leave?”

It
wasn’t difficult to flash a pathetic look at the guard. The events had left her
almost dead to the world, and she’d like nothing more than to collapse into
bed. That option wasn’t hers, but the guard didn’t know it.

He
sighed. “Okay, I’ll let you go this once. Next time I’ll require verbal or
written permission.”

She
flashed an appreciative smile. “Thanks. You won’t regret it. I’ll be sure to
remind him of your kindness.”

Once
Dorrie had passed the station, what she’d narrowly escaped sank in. Her hands
trembled so badly she could barely hold onto the wheel. For the time being she
was safe, but for how long?

Already,
she’d wasted valuable time. Roman had held the upper hand when she’d left, but
given the squat man’s intelligence, she wouldn’t put it past him to have turned
the tables by now. The fact Roman had not answered the guard’s call set off a
warning signal in her mind.

The
horrid little man may be on the loose and after her. If so, only a small window
of opportunity remained for her to retrieve her abandoned car and personal
articles. Thank goodness, she always kept an extra set of keys taped to the
bottom of the kitchen’s sliding door.

It
seemed forever before Dorrie pulled onto her street, and parked in front of the
house. Before throwing Roman’s keys under the SUV’s mat, she clicked the remote
so the doors would lock when she closed hers. With trembling legs, she
clambered out and onto the patio.

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