Instinctual (6 page)

Chapter Six

Intense and undeniable. Kate’s nipples stood erect and her eyes began to close as a wave of pleasure rippled through her breasts, searing down to her groin. Heat raced through her cheeks, causing them to burn. A familiar feeling returned with a vengeance. She looked down to check she’d put on a bra that morning, suddenly feeling vulnerable and exposed.

In an instant she knew that Jake was close.

“No! Go away! Leave me alone. You don’t belong here anymore. We’re done.”

Even as she felt an incredible pull into the crowd, she fought with everything she had, dropped the artifact she was holding, and ran. Instinct. It was all she could do. A horde of eyes watched, curious and confused. It didn’t matter. Kate couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Anguish drove the tears from her eyes, forcing her to wipe them as she ran. The destination wasn’t important as she took on the steep incline away from the market square like a seasoned athlete. Vernazza had always been a haven, a place that had soothed and enveloped her since Jake’s departure. Even though they’d once shared its beauty together, she still thought of it as her town. Home. Jake’s presence violated that feeling of ownership.

“What does he want? Why has he come back after all this time? I’m not crazy. I’m not! He’s here. I feel him everywhere. Beside me. Inside me. It’s insane. It’s sensational! These feelings that take me to another dimension, like I’m out of my body.”

Just how she would react to seeing his face again would remain to be seen. Those icy, emotive eyes with thick, dark lashes any woman, young or old, would die for. A chiseled nose gracing high cheekbones and full, upturned lips. Those lips that could be feathery soft when needed or harsh and demanding with lust. His very presence made Kate swoon with uncontrollable yearnings that drove the fear deeper into her soul and made her run faster.

Stumbling on the uneven, archaic, cobbled stones and steep steps, her sandals were fast becoming a hindrance, holding her back. Stopping for a moment to catch her breath, she took them off and increased the pace, fueled by adrenalin, looking behind to make sure he wasn’t following.

The greater the distance put between herself and the festival crowds, the less constricted her throat became as she wove her way through the endless maze of backstreets. She sensed she hadn’t been followed with each step away from the revelers. She could breathe again.

Now on the northern end of Vernazza, Kate was quite a distance from her villa. It would have made more sense to head for home and lock herself inside but she hadn’t been thinking straight. Panic had overwhelmed her. She’d just needed to escape.

Slowing to let her heart recover, she found some concrete steps that intercepted two neglected, deteriorating terrace houses. Beyond, the Ligurian Sea twinkled enticingly. Only that morning Kate had been feeling on top of the world, happy with the wonderful life she had so furiously fought to create. Even with her episode a week ago and fainting yesterday morning, the dawning of festival day had washed away any fears for her health and renewed a sense of gratitude for the wondrous place she called home. Now, that very serene haven tucked away from the modern world felt like it was closing in on her. Suffocating her.

For a minute she sat and slid into her sandals, catching her breath and letting her heart recoup before descending the broken steps. A gull squawked as it tore past, its voice lost to the edgy breeze causing Kate to jump.

Creating a buffer zone from the sheer drop lay a stony, dirt landing no more than seven feet wide that ominously fell away at the edge.

There was no denying the breathtaking view, the entire town of Vernazza shyly hidden from view. Sky and sea merged together effortlessly in a haze of perfectly blended blue. Faint singing from below broke the quiescence. The corridor behind caused the wind to hauntingly howl an unearthly tune. “Come to me, Kate. I need you now more than ever.”

She gasped. Hesitantly turning, she half expected Jake to be standing smiling in the narrow corridor but everywhere was deserted. The whole town was down at the festival having a wonderful time, which is where she should have been, instead of nervously hiding out on the fringe of town, standing unnervingly close to the edge, hiding from what? Whom?

Without even knowing it, she’d been taking steps back towards the edge of the landing. Putting her left foot forward as she turned, the loose gravel gave way, sending her flailing over the rim.

***

Kate screamed as she felt the safety of solid ground slip from under her. No longer was she standing on the edge of the small stony landing. She was now falling at an alarming rate, bumping against the rocky face of the cliff she’d tripped over.

Instinctively Kate’s hands groped for any shred of stability as the pretty cotton dress tore on the sharp rocks, slicing her skin to the bone like shards of glass. Tufts of dry grass that had been anchored to the rocky terrain for centuries broke free, tumbling with her towards certain death. As she fell, her life started to flash before her eyes. Hundreds of flashbacks flickered like a sped up movie, good and bad. Mistakes. Regrets. Achievements. Things yet to experience. Kate’s family. Her beautiful parents who she hadn’t spent nearly enough time with. Children she’d never have. A church whose aisle she’d never walk down. All of it lost to this. All of it lost because of one person. One person who she hoped rotted in hell.

As she fell, the gusts of wind blew through her long, brown hair, picking it up like an inside-out umbrella. She dropped her head to see blood on her pretty dress, the cuts and scrapes opening wider each time her body bounced off the unforgiving wall. Suddenly the dress tore free, leaving her in her underwear. Her sandals worked their way off her feet, freefalling at their own speed along with her handbag.

Bones cracked, her limbs hanging weakly, no more able to try and grab onto anything that might stop her falling further.

White spume lashed up against the pinnacled rocks, licking her heels, teasing her, until with an almighty thud that sapped any residual consciousness, her body came to a sudden, sharp stop on a dangerously thin ledge, halfway down the precipice.

Chapter Seven

When Carlos Santini pulled into the parking lot of Porto Mirabello at 8 a.m. sharp as promised, he switched into criminal mode, lighting up a cigarette and checking his handgun.

The marina was abnormally quiet, devoid of the usual plethora of activity . Had the Lord pulled some strings to eradicate any hiccups? Most likely. He had unlimited connections and could literally do anything.

Glancing down at his watch, he was already five minutes late.

“Shit. Shit.”

They’d have his nuts on a platter if he didn’t up the pace a bit. Just the thought of it had him tensely adjusting his crotch.

Following the numbered posts at each pier he soon found number 10, stubbing out his cigarette butt with his freshly-polished Armani shoes. One of the many perks. Fine designer suits. Fancy cars. Travel. Most well deserving, money-hungry battlers would kill to be in Carlos’ position. He knew he had it made. Hell, it was easy work, too. Move goods from one location to another. It wasn’t rocket-science. Who else got paid tens of thousands of dollars for a couple of days’ work? Nope, he had it good, all right.

Gemma
sat before him, imposingly flaunting her beauty and grandeur as the calm water gently slapped at her hull. Italian for “Jewel,” her name was every bit as dazzling as her appearance. The Ferretti 840 with her sleek fly bridge atop three levels of indulgent luxury overtly screamed dirty money.

Adriano gave Carlos a nod before tapping his watch in a ‘you’re late’ fashion.

A tall, distinguished, pale-skinned man standing beside Adriano eyed Carlos tentatively before stepping forward as if to block Carlos from proceeding further.

“It’s okay, Philippe. Carlos is with us. He’s safe.”

Still doubtful but taking Adriano’s word on good faith, he moved aside. Carlos moved in to shake hands with Adriano.

“You’re late!”

Surprise. Surprise. Carlos’ face remained expressionless.

Adriano had “Organization” written all over him. If anyone looked like they belonged in this line of work it was he. Short and stocky with an oversized nose and shifty eyes, he reminded Carlos of a bulldog dressed in an expensive suit with a head too big for his body. Like many of the leaders of the game, Adriano had lived a good portion of his life on the shady side of the law, never having done an honest day’s work. He simply didn’t know any different. He fitted into the family perfectly. The quintessence of Italian crime. He had no wife or children and no commitments other than his job that had enabled him to move through the ranks diligently and with one purpose only: to take over the reins one day. Nothing else mattered.

“Traffic!” lied Carlos, hoping Adriano didn’t notice his eye twitch.

“We need to get our sorry asses on board pronto so we can get this shit out of here.” The shit he was referring to was the cargo that had to be delivered to Monaco. This was by far the biggest shipment he’d had to escort and it was going to pay massive dividends.

Without further small talk the three important looking men boarded
Gemma
.

Carlos stopped for a second, eyebrows raised, taking in the luxurious interior with walls entirely paneled in boiserie and the feature wood expertly crafted from teak. Oversized cream Italian leather lounge chairs embedded into the timber beckoned them to sit as they ventured further into the enormous living area. Off to the right sat a large bar stocked with every alcoholic beverage known to man. All the bottles looked unopened, as if each one had been purchased recently just for this trip.

Within seconds Adriano poured them a dry martini, motioning for them to sit in one of the softly cushioned chairs.

“Here you go, gentlemen,” he offered, handing Carlos and Philippe their drinks before loosening his tie and removing his black suit jacket.

“The Lord has been telling me fine things about you both. He tells me you’re two of his best men. The Lord doesn’t normally regard anyone so highly, so it seems I’m sitting in esteemed company.” Carlos detected a hint of mockery in Adriano’s tone as he let the words sink in. On one hand it was nice to be valued by his employer but on the other hand, knowing who his employer was drove home the stark reality that the only one to ever have praised him thus far, besides Kate, was not his own father but the most powerful and deadly leader of The Organization. He washed the regret away with a swig of martini, gritting his teeth as it burned on the way down.

“In fact,” added Adriano, “he values your dedication so much that on our return voyage we’re doing a little detour.” He glared straight at Carlos. “Philippe will sadly be departing our company at Monaco, so it will be just you and I, Carlos.”

“What sort of detour? I don’t know anything about a detour. Stavros didn’t mention this yesterday. What is this about?” Carlos asked, intrigued.

Adriano replied after swallowing his martini, “The Lord has a little job for you to do on our way home.”

“Job?” Carlos twisted in his seat so he faced Adriano.

“You’ll find out all the details tomorrow. The Lord has hand-picked you for this assignment so you should feel quite privileged, Carlos. Now if you gentlemen don’t mind, I’ve got important business to take care of. Relax. Make yourselves at home and enjoy the ride.” Adriano skulled the rest of his martini, picked up his suit jacket, and bid them all a temporary farewell with a two-fingered salute from his temple. Carlos sat with a ‘what the fuck?’ look on his face.

Chapter Eight

When Kate stirred hours later she found herself curled, semi-naked, on top of her bed in the fetal position, shivering. For a brief second the familiar surroundings seemed foreign as she sat up and rubbed at her eyes. Stunned, it became apparent she was home.

Scanning the room, she tried to piece together why she was naked apart from her bra and panties and how she got back to her villa from the festival. Her memory was hazy.

“Carlos?” The name echoed off the walls.

Remembering he was out of town, that explanation didn’t bear any weight. The silence was deafening.

Amongst the blackness, snatches of memory seeped through. Walking past Mr. Matioli’s café. The beautiful vase she’d been admiring. Running.

“What else? What else? Think, Kate! Think! Ugh.”

It was futile. Nothing. The fog was too thick. Something was very wrong, though. The clock in the bedroom read 5.07 p.m.

“What? Where have I been for most of the day? How did I get back to my apartment? Why can’t I remember?”

Afraid that she may have been knocked over the head, assaulted, and robbed, she rose like a zombie and walked to the wardrobe to inspect the damage. Carefully opening it, half expecting to see it stripped bare, she breathed a sigh of relief when all her clothing and accessories sat as they had earlier in the morning when she’d rummaged through looking for a dress to wear to the festival.

Still, something was off. Nothing felt right. Memories and time were lost. She was semi-naked! What was with that? Where were her clothes and handbag from that morning?

An icy numbness cut through the warm air, invoking a myriad of shivers on her skin.

“It shouldn’t be this cold all of a sudden. I’m freezing.” She wandered through the apartment looking for a window that may have been left open but everything was locked solid as it had been all day.

Heading back with chattering teeth to the bedroom, warm clothes were the only option.

Thinking that some jeans and a long-sleeved shirt would suffice she didn’t even make it to the closet when something that could only be described as out of this world happened.

Kate’s legs grew rigid as she struggled to comprehend the totally bizarre fact that she was now dressed in the very clothes she’d just been thinking about. Her mouth opened, her eyebrows lifted as high as they would go.

“How the hell can I be dressed when I haven’t even made it back to the closet? Am I truly losing it? What’s going on?” Her hands had come up to grip her throat. “I have to be dreaming.” She closed and opened her eyes vigorously, trying to force herself awake and back to the present. “Come on, wake up!”

Kate’s fisted hands rubbed her eyeballs trying to erase the illusion. Keeping her eyes closed for a minute, she prayed that when she opened them, everything would be back to normal. She’d be in the dress she had on that morning. Her handbag would be hanging over the back of the chair that sat against the wall beside the freshly painted timber windows and her keys would be lazily strewn on the bedside table.

Scrunching her face up, only opening the left eye to let enough light in so she could see, she glanced down. Disappointment had her screaming expletives over and over until she thought her voice might disappear.

She walked on autopilot, dazed and confused, to the kitchen table, where she knew her cell phone still sat. The meager work-station was still an organized mess with fresh faxes overflowing from the machine onto the terrazzo tiles. Recipe books lay scattered over and under paperwork, open to the very pages they’d been left.

She pulled the faxes off and scanned them to see if any evidence of the missing afternoon could be found. She didn’t know what she hoped to find but at that point, every angle needed to be looked at. Four from the boss, editor and chief, Cindy Caulfield, wondering where the overdue article about healthy Italian food was.

Kate threw the faxes to the ground.

Revelers outside eradicated the quiet, confirming that their day had gone on as normal. Nothing out of the ordinary for them to worry about, yet inside the quaint building directly above, a different story unfolded. Eyeing the cell phone on the table, Kate desperately grabbed it and pressed the number for Carlos, barely even feeling the keypad. A recorded voice responded with an out of range signal.

“Oh my God! I need you! What’s the point in having an effing cell phone if I can’t get a hold of you? We’re in the digital age now and it’s saying you’re out of range. For all I know you’ve gone to the moon.” She slapped her palm down on the table in frustration.

She thought of her father. He would know what to do. With trembling fingers she punched in the numbers on her cell and put it to her ear, waiting for a dial tone, but all she received was a bunch of static. Hoping it was just a bad signal, she tried it again and got the same white noise.

“For fuck’s sake! What’s happening? Have I been sucked into a parallel universe? Have I gone totally off my rocker?” She threw her cell phone on the ground, sending the back of it flying in one direction and the battery in the other.

Kate sat, exhausted, feeling mind numbingly alone, trying to determine what to do next as she rubbed at her temples.

She focused intently on her inner voice to see what it had to say. There was nothing coming through about where she had run to after the festival or how she got home but the strong sensations of her ex-lover needing to see her held firm.

“Jake!” Kate toyed with the idea that if he was stalking her he may be able to hear.

“Stay the hell away from me, you hear? I don’t want you near me! I want you to leave town. I don’t love you anymore. I’ve moved on with my life.”

Her body sagged onto the table. It hurt even to say his name. She felt like damaged goods.

“I hate you!”

Trying to look at things from a logical point of view, Kate fought with her inner voice. There was no physical proof at all that Jake was in Vernazza, only some annoying sixth sense and dozens of hormones running on overdrive.

What if Kate was totally delusional and way out of line? Jake was probably holed up in some hotel on a tropical island with some scatter-brained bimbo feeding him grapes and running her fingers through his soft hair. That would be right up his alley. Maybe she was looking for someone to blame so that she wouldn’t have to face the very real fact that she was suffering some sort of breakdown. Yet in her heart of hearts it was astoundingly clear that the awakening of her dormant soul was being brought to life by the only person on earth who truly knew her and who truly understood her. Someone who could make her feel sensations of euphoric pleasure just by being near. They didn’t have to physically see each other or touch to connect.

“I need to just calm down. Relax and rationalize. There’s a logical explanation for all this. Something has triggered all the sensations I’ve been feeling. Jake isn’t responsible for me losing my memory or my belongings. I need to re-trace my steps. Hopefully I’ve just experienced some sort of panic attack brought on by stress. I’m sure if I go back to Market Square I’ll remember.”

The words sounded hollow. Words to try and fill the consuming black hole in her memory. The night had become scary with incomplete hours and unconventional happenings.

“I need you, Carlos. Where are you?” She cried it out as she stood and walked out of the kitchen.

Lonely and frightened, Kate descended the stairs with nothing on her back except the clothes she had dreamt up. Hell, she didn’t even know if they were real at that point. Maybe they too were a figment of her unpredictable imagination.

Approaching the front door, she could have sworn she’d locked it on her way to the festival. It now sat slightly ajar.

“OMG! I really am losing it! I know I locked the door. That’s one thing I’m anal about. What the hell is going on?”

Knowing there were no keys to secure it with, she didn’t want to risk latching it, in case it somehow locked, leaving her without even a home to go to. In the community of Vernazza, it was unthinkable to leave doors unlocked during festival time. With so many strangers passing through, the chances of a robbery were high. Drunken revelers could stumble to the wrong building and discover it unlocked and it would be open season. It was a risk Kate would just have to take, though.