Love Beyond Words (City Lights: San Francisco Book 1) (36 page)

The intercom buzzed, making her jump. She peeked out of her window that overlooked the street in front of Niko’s. A huge white Cadillac Escalade was parked on the street, adjacent to Niko’s. She went to the intercom at her door.

“Yes?”

“Yeah, this is Carl. From the service.”

“What service?”

“Is this a Miss…Natalie Hewitt?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been instructed by a Mr. Julian Kovač to pick you up.”

Natalie’s heart leapt to her throat. “Julian sent you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She sagged against the wall with relief. “But…why didn’t he call me to tell me?”

“I can’t answer that, ma’am. I have my instructions. I’m to take you somewhere safe. He also said to tell you that he knows all about David, and the truth about the other night and that…” Carl cleared his throat. “And that he loves you…uh, ma’am.”

She touched her hand to her lips.
Wouldn’t he call himself?
She hadn’t left her place in three days for precisely that reason. She glanced at her old machine and saw that the red light was blinking. A call had come in while she was in the shower. Hope surged again. “Hold on, please.”

She played the first message and rejoiced to hear Liberty tell her the coast was clear, that Julian was away from David.
Everything’s going to be okay,
she thought. She went back to the intercom. “Carl?”

He sighed uncomfortably. “Ma’am, this is really none of my business, but he also said that he’ll write a hundred books for you or never write again. Whatever you want.”

Natalie almost laughed.
I just want you, love.
“I’ll be right down.”

She gathered the stack of composition books and shoved them into a bag, intending to give them back.
Give them back and take him in my arms instead,
she thought and raced down the stairs. She opened the gate and then fell back as a huge shape filled the doorway.

“Surprise!” said the hulking blond man in front of her. “Pretty good, right?
Ma’am?”

He bellowed laughter and then stopped. Recognition dawned between them at the exact instant, and Natalie backed away, her feet scraping on the cement stairs. Terror lanced down her spine, turning her limbs to jelly.

“You…” she breathed. Garrett, she remembered, one of the men who harassed her months ago, whom Julian had thwarted with boiling milk.

He grinned luridly. “Well, ain’t that something. Looks like we’re going to have our date after all.”

Natalie whimpered as his meaty fist connected with her temple. Pain radiated over her cheek and head; her eye felt like it was going to explode. His fist came again. She reeled and he caught her before she fell, her head lolling against his shoulder. Her vision blurred, stained red. He hefted her with one hand and peered into her bag.

“This it?” He snickered. “I’ll just carry this for you,
ma’am
, shall I?”

He slung his arm around her waist and half-walked, half-carried her to the Escalade, parked just past the windows of Niko’s Café. Upstairs, she heard her phone ring, growing fainter and fainter…

Cliff looked ready to explode. His pudgy face was beet red and a vein pulsed under his widow’s peak. “What the hell do you mean, he’s
out of town
?”

David squared his shoulders and met Cliff’s unyielding gaze. Behind him, he could practically feel Jesse’s anxiety, almost as tightly wound as his own.

“He’s gone to Croatia. Won’t be back for several weeks.”

“Several
weeks
?” Cliff’s eyes bugged out of his skull, and then a thought crossed his eyes, and he leveled a finger at David, his voice low and deadly. “Are you fucking with me? Because if you are, Dave…”

“Of course not, Cliff, listen,” David said. “It’s perfect. It’s more plausible that his place would get robbed while he’s away. You’ll have to wait until he gets back to make the ransom demand, but isn’t three million dollars worth it?”

“No, it’s not. This whole thing is fucked,” Jesse said from behind. “Cliff—”

Cliff held up a hand for silence and rubbed his fingers over the bridge of his nose. He stared at David from for a moment and then laid his hands on the desk. “Dave, I have Garrett over at that Natalie girl’s place right now, to bring her here. Just what the hell are we supposed to do with her?”

Jesse stormed forward before David could answer. “Garrett’s where? To bring…who? What the hell is going on, Cliff? Kidnapping? You want to add that to the rap sheet? Along with extortion and embezzlement and…who knows what else?” He ran a hand through his longish blond hair. “No way, man. No way.”

“Jesse, I need you to shut the fuck up right now.”

“Cliff, this is crazy—”

“She won’t be here long,” David said, silencing them both. His mouth went dry. “I told you, I’ll take care of it. I promise.”

Cliff seemed reluctantly mollified but Jesse stared at him, incredulous. “You’re going to off some chick, David? Really?” He turned to Cliff. “This is what it’s come down to?
Murder
?”

David started to retort but Cliff rose to his feet. “Are we going to have a problem here Jesse? Because all I’m hearing out of your mouth is that we’re going to have a problem.”

Jesse stared between them for a second, and David thought Jesse might make a break for it. He
looked
liked he wanted to run.
I don’t blame him. I want to run too.

“No, Cliff,” Jesse said. “No problem. I just…I think we all need to be very careful here, right? Let’s not get carried away. Okay, David?”

“I agree,” Cliff said, sitting back down. “Garrett’s not back yet, Dave. Go get yourself a drink at the bar. You look like you need it. It’ll calm your nerves. Tell Kyle it’s on me.”

“Yeah sure. Liquid courage,” David muttered. As he walked passed Jesse, he could see the man screaming at him with his eyes to not do whatever it was he thought he had to do.

David smiled wanly.
It’s too late, Jesse. There is no other way.

He made his way from the back offices, through Club Orbit’s dance floor—still mostly empty due to the early hour—passed the pool tables, and took a seat at the bar. He ordered a gin and tonic—nothing too strong; he’d need all his faculties tonight—but strong enough to blunt the edges of the fear and revulsion of it all. He sipped his drink that tasted watered down and tried very hard to get his rampaging thoughts under control.

“Bad day?”

“You could say that,” David muttered.

“I’ve been there.”

David looked up. Kyle, the bartender, was at the other end, stacking beer bottles. David swung his head the other way. A young man, large of frame and dressed in casual yet elegant clothes sat a few stools down. He had ginger hair and a warm smile. David returned it with a wan smile of his own.

“No offense, but I don’t think you’ve had a day as bad as this.”

The man shrugged his broad shoulders. “Try me.”

David studied him. A come-on? Or friendly conversation? He couldn’t tell. “No, you don’t want to hear my problems.”

The man shrugged again. “Suit yourself. Although they say that talking about a thing takes the sting out.” He chuckled. “Of course, so does this.” He held up his cocktail glass and took a swig.

David cracked a smile. “Yeah, it does. Just…tough day at work.”

“I hear that. What do you do?”

“I’m an…assistant to a…I’m a personal assistant. A wealth manager. You?”

“Real estate,” the man replied dourly. “I know, right? In this economy? Why do you think I wandered into this sleazy joint?”

David laughed despite himself.

“I’m Evan Harris.”

“David Thompson.”

Evan offered his hand and engulfed David’s in a strong, warm grip. His expression was open, suggestive, interested, and David was suddenly aware of how unwashed and unkempt he was. He leaned back, smoothing his greasy hair and cursing inwardly at his continuing terrible luck. Any other night and he would have been better dressed, showered, and open to the advances of a handsome stranger.

Evan reached into his pocket and studied his cell phone. “Sorry, I’ve got to take this.” He pulled out a fat billfold and laid a twenty on the table. “Yours is on me, David Thompson. The least I could do. For your bad day and all.”

He got up and wended his to the front doors. David jumped off his stool and followed him.

“Wait! Evan, wait!”

Evan strode outside the club and around the corner to an alley. David trotted after.

“Evan…”

The ginger-haired man flinched and dropped his cell into his pocket as David caught up to him. Evan was even better looking in the club’s neon signs and the streetlights. He wasn’t as beautiful as Julian, but tall and built and wholly masculine.

“Listen, tonight is a shitty night,” David said. “Really. But maybe tomorrow we could…?”

A flash of surprise crossed Evan’s face but then he smiled, a smile with a sharp edge to it that David found wholly enticing. It had been ages since his presence had garnered anything but sour or suspicious looks.

“Tomorrow? Hmm. I don’t think I have anything going on. What about dinner at my place? If that’s too weird…” He laughed in a self-deprecating way that David found extremely charming. “God, listen to me. Is it
very
obvious I’ve been out of the game for a while, or just
extremely
obvious?”

David laughed. “You’re doing fine.”

“Am I?” The sudden hungry purr in Evan’s voice took David by surprise. “I can do better.”

David found himself backed against the cement wall, Evan’s body pressed to his, his mouth crushing his lips.
Is this really happening?
But it had been so long since anyone had touched him.
So nice…

Just as he relaxed into the kiss, Evan’s body jerked and a deep, nauseating ache burst in David’s groin. Evan kneed him again, then delivered a punishing left hook that sent David sprawling to the trash-and-cigarette-butt-strewn ground. His head spun, and his crotch glowed with pain. He tried to scramble away on his elbows and knees and then Evan’s knee on his back pinned him to the ground.

“My name’s Marshall, asshole.” Hands pawed around the pockets of David’s coat. “I’m a friend of Natalie’s. I was about to call the cops but I’m glad to have this opportunity to beat your ass first for what you’ve done to her.”

“No,” David moaned. The injustice of it all…the
humiliation
. A white hot threat of rage burned through his blood, giving him strength.

“Where’s the gun, David?” Marshall leaned over to pat around David’s left pocket. “Ah, here we are.” He slipped his hand in the pocket and David threw his elbow back. He connected with Marshall’s eye and the bigger man cursed. David felt the pressure ease up enough that he could crawl out from under him.

He was on his knees when Marshall’s strong hand gripped his collar and yanked him backward awkwardly. David yelped as some ligament in his knee stretched and then tore with a searing burn. Marshall, kneeling behind, snaked an arm around his neck and began to squeeze while both of them tore at David’s left pocket for the gun.

Marshall was quick but David could feel where the gun lay heavy in his pocket and got to it first. He didn’t pull it out; Marshall was too strong and would easily wrest it from him. David pressed down, keeping his arm rigid while Marshall tried to pry it from his fingers. His knee screamed, his vision began to fill with starbursts. He bit down on Marshall’s wrist mercilessly and then reared back again. Cartilage crunched and gave. Marshall reeled and David slithered free.

Marshall fumbled blindly, tried to grab hold of him but it was too late. David leveled the gun.

“You stupid, stupid man.”

Marshall held up his hands. Blood poured from his nose, maroon in the dusky light. “Now, wait…”

“All I wanted,” David said, breathing hard, tears choking his throat, “…all I’ve
ever
wanted was to be with Julian. Alone. Why is that so hard for everyone to understand?”