Alyssa woke up in an unfamiliar room with a pounding headache and a mouth that tasted like she’d been chewing dirty socks. Her eyes were puffy and scratchy with grit. She blinked a few times, hoping when she opened her eyes she’d see the walls of her room instead of the cream wallpaper with its faded green and maroon grapevine design.
Where the hell am I?
Fear sprouted in her gut as she kick-started her brain and tried to put together the last several hours. She struggled to sit up in bed, wincing at an aching sting in her arm. Her eyes froze on the IV stuck in the inner crook of her elbow.
The fear sank its claws deeper. She reached instinctively with her left hand to pull out the IV. Fear became full-fledged panic when she realized her hands were secured to the bed by leather restraints.
Her chest heaved, and she tried to catch her breath to scream, but the sound died in her throat as the door opened and Richard Blaylock walked into the room, followed by Louis Abbassi and a tall, slender black woman wearing scrubs.
“Ah, I see you are awake,” Louis said, smiling as if he were greeting her across the breakfast table.
“What’s happening?” The words came out slurred, forced past a tongue that felt thick and dry. “Why am I here?” she tried again.
Richard pointedly avoided her gaze as the woman in scrubs—a nurse—came over to the bed, checked the IV, and injected something into the tube.
Everything came back in a flash. The meeting with Martin. Returning home. Drinking her water—the water only Andy could have dosed with something. Richard’s blurry image before the rest of the night went dark.
“You had Andy drug me,” she persisted, pushing every word through the thickening quicksand of her mind. “Why?”
Richard acted as if she hadn’t spoken as Louis gave him a long, assessing look before turning his attention back to Alyssa.
Even in her fuzzy drugged state, she felt his stare on her like a thousand insects crawling over her skin.
“You sure she knows what she’s doing?” Richard asked. “We don’t want her dead yet.”
Her head was slowly filling with cotton, but the “yet” registered loud and clear. Oh, God, what was happening? Through bleary eyes she saw the woman look at Louis and murmur something in a language she didn’t recognize. Louis responded as he sat down on Alyssa’s bed.
“Do not worry,” Louis snapped at Richard.
“But you’re sure you can cover up the IV marks,” Richard persisted. “When it happens, it has to look like an overdose.”
A black wave was closing in, threatening to suck her under. She fought it, knowing if she let it take her she would be lost.
“
If
it happens,” Louis said sharply, “I will have the situation under control.”
His fingers trailed down her cheek. Alyssa wanted to squirm away but couldn’t make her body obey. “We can still work this out, Alyssa,” he said in a voice that cut through the fog and sent a spear of dread to her very core. His hand slid down her neck, over her collarbone and came to rest over the curve of one breast. His head bent to her neck, and she felt the slimy heat of his lips against her skin.
Every cell recoiled in revulsion, and she managed to force a soft “no” from her throat.
Louis sat up, his mouth pulled into a cruel smile. “You will rethink your attitude,
chérie,
if you wish to keep your life.” His fingers squeezed her breast, and she could feel them
sinking into the tender flesh even though the drugs dulled the pain.
Louis’s leering face hung above her. Richard’s form was a blur over his shoulder. The black wave surged again, and this time Alyssa let it take her.
Louis gave Alyssa’s small breast another squeeze, closing his eyes as his cock throbbed. She was exquisite as he’d known she’d be, her skin soft and tender under his hands. He could take her so easily, dismiss Catherine and Richard while he finally slaked his lust on Alyssa’s body.
But he forced his hand to release its grip on her breast. He wanted her awake, her green eyes wide and aware as she felt his cock sinking into her small body, his fingers wrapped around her neck. He wanted her to look up at him, wide awake and knowing that he held her life in his hands.
Soon. I will have her soon.
But right now there were other matters to take care of.
He rose from the bed and met Richard’s look of disdain.
“You have a problem, my friend?” Louis asked as he motioned Richard out of the room.
Richard lifted his too straight nose into the air. “I don’t think it’s good for our case if she turns up looking like she was raped before she died.”
Louis’s nostrils flared as he struggled to control his temper. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and snap Richard’s neck, this man who made his living by acting the lap dog for others. Following orders, jumping to do their bidding. And now he dared try to tell Louis what to do. “As I said, when and if she dies, I will have the situation under control.” He paused and pinned Richard with a stare that had weaker men squirming like a bug under a pin. Richard was no different. “But you did not believe that? Yes? Even after I told you I would deal with Alyssa if the need arose?”
Richard’s bland blue eyes darted back and away. “We
wanted a backup plan. In case she remembered something else.”
“She remembers nothing. She saw nothing,” Louis hissed.
“She said in the interview—”
“She said she saw a raccoon!” Louis snapped. “No one took her seriously.”
“Yes, because we made it look like she was spinning out of control! And after tonight, you should be thanking us for laying the groundwork for you.”
Louis could smell the fear filming on Richard’s skin. He should be scared. Louis wasn’t one to tolerate being double-crossed. And while Richard’s point was valid, especially after Alyssa’s meeting with the reporter, Louis was no fool. He knew the actions against Alyssa had little to do with the cover-up of Oscar’s murder and everything to do with personal vendetta. From the first time Louis had seen Alyssa, he had claimed her as his own. He would do what he wished with her, when he wished, and Richard and the others would pay for very nearly ruining his fun.
“Yes, perhaps you are right in that after all.”
The relief on Richard’s face was almost comical. “I thought you’d see it that way,” he replied, arrogance dripping from every syllable. “Now, what are we going to do about Fish? Has he been”—he paused—“taken care of?”
Spineless, weak worm. Speaking in euphemisms because he didn’t want to dirty his soft white hands with the realities of business. Louis nodded. When Richard had called earlier, Louis had sent Marius and Ivan to Zed’s. Marius had followed Fish back to his hotel while Ivan had followed Alyssa home. “Marius, as always, is fast and discreet.”
Richard swallowed hard and nodded. “Well, if we’re finished here, we should get back to the city. We’re scheduled to meet at four to discuss the production ramp-up for the holidays. You should probably sit in.”
Louis nodded. He would deal with Richard and the oth
ers in due time, but for now he still needed them to move his latest inventory. “Yes, as always there is business to take care of.”
“What are you doing here?” Andy jumped in surprise as Derek came up the stairs into the living room. Cheeks flushed, she moved in front of the couch as though to hide the oversize duffel filled with clothes and shoes. Andy looked at the bag and then back at him. “Alyssa wanted me to take some things to give to Goodwill.”
She was lying so hard Derek could practically smell it, but he didn’t give a shit if Andy was staging grand-theft wardrobe. “Where’s Alyssa?”
“How did you even get in here? You don’t work for the Van Weldts anymore,” Andy countered, her chin tilted up in that know-it-all way of hers he’d come to recognize.
“I still have the security code. Now tell me where they took her, and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t share that information with anyone outside the family.” She turned back to the pile of clothes and the bag on the couch and busied herself folding a dress. “But rest assured, she’s getting the help she needs.”
Anger raged, firing his veins until sweat beaded on his brow. He slid out of his fleece jacket. “Somehow I doubt that.”
Something in his tone made her look over her shoulder. She tried to hide it, but he saw the way her eyes locked on his chest, his arms straining the short sleeves of his T-shirt. “Really, Derek, I can’t tell you anything more. You really need to go.” The flush deepened in her cheeks, and her gaze skittered away.
So. There was an actual woman underneath Andy’s robot-like facade.
Time to try a different tactic. What would Ethan, his
younger, much more charming twin, do in this situation? Derek pasted what he hoped was a sexy smile on his face. “Come on, Andy, you can tell me. I just want to make sure she’s okay. She was spouting some crazy shit on the way back the other day.”
“I can only imagine,” Andy said, an involuntary smile on her lips. “With everything she’s on, you wouldn’t believe some of the things she comes up with.”
He closed the distance between them until he was standing right next to her. He spotted a piece of flame-colored fabric and plucked it from the pile. His fingers tightened in the delicate silk when he recognized it as the dress Alyssa had worn the night they first met.
“Hey, you’re crushing it,” Andy scolded, placing her hand over his, letting it linger there for a few seconds.
Right. He needed to focus. “Sorry.” He released the dress and looked over to see Andy watching him through her lashes. In contrast to the pile of designer crap she was looting, Andy was dressed in jeans and an oversize gray sweatshirt, giving her all the shape of a potato on legs. “Brown,” he said, reading the front of her shirt. “That’s where you went.”
“I did,” she replied, smiling with smug Ivy pride.
“I’ve always loved smart girls,” Derek said, looking at her like her mouse-brown ponytail was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
“Really,” she said, her eyes going wide, pupils enlarging with awareness and arousal. “You don’t have it for Alyssa like every other man in the universe?”
You have no idea.
“Sure, she’s cute, but brains—that’s what I find really sexy.” He almost gagged, he was piling the BS so high, but Andy was buying it, if her nervous “oh” and rapidly beating pulse were any indication.
She turned to face him fully, and that’s when he noticed
the purple mark staining her cheekbone. “What’s this?” he asked. He brushed his fingers across her cheek, and her color deepened to tomato red.
“N—nothing,” she said. “I ran into a door.”
She was lying. He knew it like he knew his own name.
A phone rang from a giant leather purse on the couch.
“That’s mine. I need to get it,” Andy said almost apologetically.
She reached for it, and Derek grabbed it off the couch. “Here you go.” She took the purse, and Derek registered her look of fear as the purse slipped from her shaking fingers. It fell to the ground, the contents spilling across the hardwood floor.
Derek watched in disbelief as a half dozen pill bottles went rolling across the floor. Andy dropped to her knees, her phone skittering away as she scrambled to retrieve the bottles.
He swooped in like a hawk, scooping up several labeled bottles of pills along with a vial of liquid.
“Give me those.” Andy slapped and swiped at his hands, but Derek had no trouble shaking her off long enough to read the labels. OxyContin. Methadone. Ketamine. Two out of three substances that had shown up on Alyssa’s drug test. All with prescriptions made out to an Alice Waters from an online pharmacy.
Derek held on to them all, including the liquid-filled vial he bet contained GHB or Rohypnol.
His blood went cold and then hot with rage. Andy had a veritable pharmacy in her bag, and she’d been pumping it all into Alyssa’s unsuspecting body.
The bottles dropped, the plastic bouncing on the hardwood floor in a series of sharp cracks. The suave seducer disappeared in an instant as Derek grabbed Andy by the shoulders. “What the fuck is going on here? Why are you drugging her?”
Andy’s brown eyes were wide with fear. “Th—they’re hers. I hold them for her—”
He gave her a shake, struggling to keep his anger in check. He’d never intentionally hurt a woman, but all bets were off where Alyssa was concerned. “Tell me the truth, or I call the police.”
She tried to struggle out of his hold. “I’ll tell them you broke in.”
His grip on her arms tightened. “A risk I’m willing to take. Now tell me where she is.”
“I don’t know!” she shouted.
“Do you realize what will happen to you if something happens to her? You’ll be named an accessory to murder.”
“No one’s going to kill her,” she scoffed.
“What makes you so sure?”
Andy’s already pale face went pasty. “But why would they want to kill her?”
“Why would you want to drug her?” he countered.
“They paid me to. I needed the extra money. I didn’t ask any questions.”
He swallowed back his rage as he focused on what she was saying. He had to keep his cool, keep his eyes on the prize. Andy wasn’t the mastermind here, she was merely an immature, spiteful girl who wanted to get back at her prettier, richer, famous friend. “Who? Who told you to drug her?”
Andy pressed her lips together and shifted her weight from foot to foot.
“You think they’ll protect you? When this comes out, they’re going to pin the hole thing on you. That is, if they let you live long enough to talk.”
That hit home. “Richard,” she whispered through lips gone gray.
“Richard Blaylock? The corporate counsel?” Derek pictured the man in his head, with his bland good looks and
expensive suits. The man didn’t look creative enough to come up with such a scheme. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Andy said again, the pitch of her voice rising in panic. “I didn’t ask. He told me he’d give me a bunch of money if I made sure she was fucked up at some of her appearances and then told me to leak to the press that she was using again. Maybe he wanted her uncle to kick her out of the business.”