Inside Out (20 page)

Olivia recoiled at the sight of the remnants of her own body reduced to a string of bones. She stepped back in horror and stifled a scream.

Shane’s breath hissed in, as if a blade had cut through him.

He stood still for a long time before he nodded.

“That’s her wedding ring on the necklace. She never wore it on her finger because it distracted her while playing the cello.”

“I’ll get it to you, Mr. Hart,” the examiner said. “My deepest condolences.”

Shane nodded and whispered, “Leave me.” And with that, he turned his back on them. Olivia had never loved him more. She slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle her cries, to stop herself from crying out to him.

Alfie took her by the arm, and she glanced over at the pitiful scene behind her. What was left of her own dead body, her husband leaning over it, his shoulders shaking.

She dropped her head. Until this morning she’d had a chance of getting her own life back. Now she was stuck in Hunter’s body for the rest of her life. And Shane, as much as he desired her, was never going to want a woman like Hunter. They were simply too different. It was over.

“I’m fucked forever now,” she whispered.

“You never used to talk like that,” Alfie replied, patting her back. Like old times. Olivia turned to him, her heart lurching in hope.

“You do believe me…”

Alfie laughed, and then choked, coughing. “It’s crazy, I know, it is. I’m a copper, for fuck’s sake. I can’t believe in this shit. But, hell, looking at you, I know I believe you. Don’t ask me why.”

Olivia threw her arms around him, covering him with little loud kisses the way she used to when she was alive and Shane would watch and shake his head.

“What the fuck’s going on?” Shane’s deep voice startled them.

Alfie pulled away. “Mate…”

“What are you doing?” Shane demanded, and for a moment joy rippled through her heart. He was jealous. He cared about her.

But now he pointed his finger at her. “If her gang hadn’t kidnapped Olivia, she’d still be alive! My wife would be alive!” And then he turned and kicked the wall, dislodging the white Victorian tiles. Alfie and Olivia jumped as Shane turned to go, his steps long and heavy. Olivia moved to go after him, but Alfie held her back. “Let him go.”

“But…I’ve never seen him like this before.”

“That’s because you weren’t around the last fourteen months while he drank his ass off. Almost lost his company, too.”

“But—I didn’t see him drink once since I’ve been back.”

Alfie nodded. “He’s in love with you, I think.” Then he sighed. “Again.”

Olivia shook her head sadly. “He’s not in love with me. He’s in love with his wife. And I’m not his wife anymore. To him, I’m just the whore that took his wife away.” Tears came to her eyes, and when Alfie hugged her she stood up. “Sorry. I have to do this on my own, Alfie.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know yet. What can I say? I’m out of my body, and I’m going out of my mind now as well.”

“Olivia…”

It was official. Olivia Hart was dead, and Hunter Orlando hadn’t been able to save her. She swiped at her cheek, and turned to look back at him over her shoulder. “Please don’t call me that anymore, Alfie…”

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Alfie, I’ve told you everything I know a thousand times. I’ve left nothing out.”

Alfie raised his hands. “Okay, calm down, Olivia. But you have to understand we can’t go to court and tell them that you are in truth Olivia Hart who came back from the dead to inhabit the body of a gang leader and that, thanks to you, she’s on our side. I’d lose my job to say the least, and they’d cart you off to the nearest loony bin.”

“It was the tattoo,” she explained.

“What?”

“I asked Hunter for a magic tattoo that would make me more uninhibited and—stop rolling your eyes at me, I already
know
it sounds crazy.”

“Magical powers? Fuck, Livvy.” She stood up, her chest about to explode with rage. “This, Alfie, is why I can’t help you, and you can’t help me. I’m stuck in this life forever.”

“Olivia…”

This time when she left she didn’t look back.

* * *

“Where the fuck have you been?”

Olivia jumped. Randy sprawled on her sofa. He was becoming a big nuisance. How could she get him off her back? She wanted nothing more than to get rid of him, the tattoo shop, and go back to her own home, her own things. Her own man. But everything was shot to shit now. Shane never wanted to see her again. He hadn’t needed to say it, the look on his face being eloquent enough.

Olivia put her keys and purse down and went to pour herself a Scotch, something she’d have never done in the past. The transfer had nearly reached completion. She looked like Hunter, sounded like her, thought like her. Hell, she even
fucked
like her. She might as well give up, forget about her old self completely and, well—
be
her. The only thing left of Olivia were her skills, such as playing the cello. Fat load of good that would do her in this sink estate.

Her mind furiously searching for an excuse to feed Randy, she threw back her drink in one gulp, trying to stop her hands from shaking, then put the glass down softly. “I told you my aunt is ill.”

Randy’s eyebrow shot up. “Since when did you ever give a shit about anybody but yourself? Tell me the truth, you were with the Hart guy again, weren’t you?”

“Randy, I’m telling you I went to see my aunt Mary.”

“Babe, your whole family is dead.”

Olivia swallowed, already in need of another Scotch. Shit. She’d forgotten all about that. Now what? At times like this, being Hunter Orlando was a real pain in the ass. Randy stepped toward her with a menacing look. Olivia fought to stand her ground.

“What did you tell him?”

“Nothing.”

“You told him about our gang, didn’t you?”

She stared at him, eyes wide. “Of course not. Don’t be a dickhead, Randy.”

“Fuck, Hunter, I’m sick and tired of watching your back. Look me in the eye now.”

Olivia obeyed and even managed a smile. Man, she was getting good. Or so she thought.

“Bloody hell. You’re
sleeping
with him.”

Hunter would’ve said “So what?” while Olivia would have once run away. Now she stood her ground, thinking quickly.

“I’m doing nothing of the sort. He simply has a thing for me. He wants me to stop seeing you.”

That part was true.

Randy took her jaw in his large hand and squeezed it, studying her.

“Ouch. Don’t. That hurts.”

“You used to like it nice ’n rough, Hunter. What happened to you? Did he soften you up?”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Stop it, Ran—”

Before she could finish her sentence, he plastered his mouth to hers, squeezing her harder, his other hand on her breast. Olivia stiffened.

“You’re my woman, Hunter. Don’t forget it. The rest of the gang has wanted to get rid of you since the night you did a runner with the Hart woman and the money. It took me months to convince them to lay off, at least for a while.”

“I-I didn’t take your money. And I may be your…woman, but I’m still the brains behind everything.”

“You were until you tried to take that blonde bitch back to Hart. Why do you think you’re still alive, babe?
I
saved your ass.”

Olivia glared at him as he continued to cup her breast, but she daren’t move. His touch was so different from Shane’s. Insecure. Cold. What she wouldn’t give to be at home with Shane now instead of with this loser who, truth be told, wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, either. Which made him particularly dangerous. She cringed as his index found her cleavage, running up and down.

“You are so beautiful,” he rasped. “Why did you have to betray us?”

“I didn’t betray anybody. Now let me go,” she demanded, breaking away from his grip. He could have easily stopped her. Instead, panic rose in his voice and washed over his face.

“Where are you going? Come back here!”

“Sod off, Randy. You and the boys. I’m out of here.”

“You can’t. I love you,” he begged, pinning her against the sofa and burying his face in her neck and chest. “I risked my life to protect you.”

She pushed him away and rolled out from underneath him, grabbing her bag and keys, not even bothering to close the door behind her. She was through with this dump for good.

“What’s going on here?” a voice boomed as Olivia slammed into a human wall. The bearded man who’d been spying on her on the bench! She
knew
he had something to do with Randy.

The man stared down into her eyes, his own very cold. Deadly. When he spoke, his voice sent shivers of fear through her. “Randy, I thought you said you’d take care of it,” he hissed over her head, and terror sparked her brain.

Not for his words, but for the flash of memory that slammed into her.

His voice. She would never be able to forget it. His face, she’d only caught a quick glimpse of, and it had cost Olivia her life. Terror caught in her throat as he dragged her by the hair, just as he had dragged her out of the ladies’ room at the Royal Festival Hall moments before losing consciousness. When she had awoken, she’d found herself hooded and gagged. She remembered the odor of his skin as he hunched over her, touching her where he shouldn’t have, and then another voice. Hunter’s, telling him that if he ever tried that again, she’d make him a eunuch.

He had never intended to let her go, and Hunter had tried to save her life.

And now his eyes narrowed suddenly, and with a quick yank tore her shirt open. Olivia gasped, covering her bra. “What the hell!”

Randy, who had watched in weak silence, stepped forward. “You see, Joe? I told you she wasn’t wired.”

Olivia turned to Randy. “Wired? Don’t you trust me anymore?”

Randy opened his mouth, but the bearded man cut him short. “Randy, I want you to go to Skin Deep and get her laptop. I want you and Jimmy to go through every single file and see if you can find anything odd. I want that money.”

“Don’t hurt her, though.” And with one last longing look in her direction, Randy left them alone.

The man named Joe bared his teeth. “The cash—where the fuck are you hiding it?”

Olivia stared at him. The anonymous caller. The Krugerrand coins. Of course. Shit. Just her luck to have to deal with this mob while Hunter was peacefully dead. How to get out of this predicament now?

Surprising even herself, she instinctively thrust out a leg and kicked him in the stomach. He doubled over, but not long enough for her to run, because he grabbed her leg and tripped her. With her other leg she lashed out, kicking him in the face.

But he was much stronger. He yanked her back to him, biting down on her lip—hard, and she tasted the coppery flavor of her own blood. Olivia saw spots but didn’t make a sound.

“You want to play hard, baby? I’ll show you hard.” And he moved to slap her, but she ducked just in time, so he only caught her hair in his fist and jerked her back so violently the bones in her neck creaked.

Olivia swung out with a strength she never had before, but it only made him angrier. He lifted her clear off the ground and dragged her toward her room. She clung to doorways and pieces of furniture, but nothing could stop him as he dumped her onto the bed in one single swing. Olivia swallowed. How could she, weak and wimpy Olivia Hart, ever overpower a man the size of her husband?

“No one cheats me out of my money,” he boomed.

Olivia clawed at the hair in her eyes and stared back, feeling her nostrils flaming, her chest heaving with rage and terror.

“Do you understand me?” he repeated, shaking her, and she kicked him so hard they both reeled back in surprise. But she only got his thigh when she aimed straight for the balls.

“You ever touch me again and I will kill you myself, you little louse!” she hollered.

He stared at her, then threw his head back and roared with laughter, his hands now circling her throat, squeezing hard.

“Before I break your pretty neck, I’ll have me some fun,” he growled as he ripped the rest of her clothes off and unzipped his jeans. Olivia screamed and kicked, and he backhanded her, laughing. “You’re a real panther, aren’t you? Now I understand why Randy always protected your gorgeous ass.”

And with that, he squeezed her throat harder. Olivia could feel herself going, but she fought to stay conscious for as long as possible, clawing feebly at his thighs as he scrambled on top of her.

“Get off me!” she tried to scream, but it only came out a whisper as his face zoomed in, unfocused, and everything went black.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The shouting reached Shane on the landing before he sprang toward the door, which he knocked down with one mighty shove of his shoulder. He flew into the flat, bolting from one room to the next until he found them in the bedroom. Fury rose like bile to his throat and he lunged for the man atop Hunter who was completely naked and almost unconscious.

His woman. No matter what she’d done. And now a sick fuck was hurting her. Rage blinded him and in less than a fraction of a second Shane was on him, prying his hands from Hunter’s throat and savagely kicking him into a heap in the corner.

He couldn’t stop kicking the piece of shit at his feet, even when the heap had stilled.

His chest heaving with fury and his mind in a frenzy, he turned to Hunter. She coughed and wheezed, her breasts heaving, very much like the first time he had seen her. When she was nothing to him but a sexy stranger. Even with her face bruised and scratched, she was still so beautiful to him, slumped against the headboard. Hunter swiped at her cheeks, fighting not to cry, her face soiled, her lip bleeding, her hair in wild disarray and not a stitch of clothing on her.

His jaw clenched as he stepped forward to receive her, and she collapsed against his chest in a moan. Cursing under his breath, Shane lifted her and brought her to the sofa, checking her for any serious injuries as she clung to him for support for the first time since they’d met.