Prodigal Son (37 page)

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Authors: Debra Mullins

Tags: #Fiction, #Paranormal romance

BOOK: Prodigal Son
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“What?” She looked as if she’d been smacked. “What are you saying, Rafe? What about us?”

He forced himself to keep the casual tone. “That was the deal, right? We rip up the sheets for a while until one of us decides it’s time to end it.”

“Is that what you’re doing by leaving me behind?” She stepped back from him, dropping her hand so they no longer touched. “Have you decided to end things?
Now?

“Maybe it’s time.” He didn’t step toward her, made no move to touch her again—and it was the hardest thing he’d ever done. “I have to take your brother back to Vegas. I just figured you wouldn’t want to be sleeping with the guy who’s going to turn Danny in.”

“What about what you said the other night … about me being inside you? All that poetic, passionate talk?” Her voice broke, her eyes shimmering. “Was that all to keep me in bed with you?”

“No, of course not.” He forced a smile. “I’m really fond of you, Cara. We had a great time together, and I’m more than willing to keep going until you fly back home.” He slid his gaze down her body as if she were a prime cut of meat. “You are seriously hot, and I want nothing more than to keep you in my bed. But your life is on the other side of the country, and mine is here.”

“What if I decided to move?” She jutted her chin at him, still fighting. His little tigress. “I own my company. I write software for a living, for God’s sake. I can work anywhere. And I may have lost the condo anyway. So, what if I came out here? Would you still want to end it?”

“You’d be willing to do that?” For a second he was tempted. They could give it a try. He could find a way to keep her safe.

“I would, if you give me a good reason to come.”

He looked into her eyes, saw the hope and longing and, damn it, the love. He remembered the vision of her death that had haunted him until they’d survived the bomb. If just the vision had tormented him, what would he do if something happened to her for real?

He couldn’t be that selfish, not until his powers were more under control. Maybe if he found other Seers, someone to learn from, he could master his abilities. Maybe then they could be together. But that was a long way off. Maybe years.

He studied her face, sketching every detail into his heart like scrimshaw. He couldn’t ask her to wait for him, and he couldn’t coax her to go home. His Cara was loving enough to want to be with him and help him while he learned and stubborn enough to resist any suggestion to go where she’d be safer. Therefore, it had to be her idea to leave.

“Rafe? Are you going to answer me?”

He shook his head, played the part. “Sorry, babe, I was thinking.”

“It took that long for you to think about this?” Her incredulity raked across his raw emotions, drawing blood.

“Rafe.” Darius called out to him from the doorway. “We’re moving out.”

“Okay.” Rafe dropped a kiss on Cara’s head. “You stay here with the security guys. We’ll bring Danny home soon.” He turned and headed for the house.

“Rafe!” When he glanced back, she said, “So that’s it? We’re done?”

He shrugged. “I’m game for another ride, but we have to say good-bye some time.”

He turned his back and jogged toward the house, quickly enough to escape her whispered reply, but not fast enough to escape the words as they slipped into his mind.
Wrong answer
.

His heart cracked, but he held it together. It was better this way.
She
would be better this way—home, safe, and far from him.

He reached Darius, who didn’t move out of the doorway. “What the hell are you doing?” his brother muttered.

“Nothing.”

Darius narrowed his eyes and glanced from Cara back to Rafe before moving to let his brother through. “You’re an ass.”

“Yeah,” Rafe said. “I know.”

*   *   *

Cara stood on the patio and stared at the stunning landscape without really seeing it, a throbbing ache where her heart used to be. What had she expected? Rafe tended to slip away before things got too serious, and now he’d done exactly that. She’d thought she could change him. She’d imagined she could make him believe again.

She lifted her head and focused on the mesas, blinking back the sting of tears. He hadn’t exactly kicked her to the curb, after all. He was still interested in a sexual relationship, but nothing more than that. And that wasn’t enough for her anymore. Heck, it never had been, but she’d deluded herself into thinking it was, just to be with him.

Which was worse? The lies Warren had told her to weasel his way into the company, or the painful honesty Rafe offered, which fell so short of what she wanted?

Her cell phone rang, vibrating in her pocket. She jumped at the sound, then slid the device out and glanced at the number. Warren. Without a second thought, she clicked the
IGNORE
button and slid the phone back in her pocket. Warren and his manipulations seemed very far away and unimportant now. Maybe they always had been, but she simply hadn’t realized it. She would deal with him when she got back to Jersey.

Her phone rang a second time. Muttering, she took it out of her pocket again. Her thumb hovered over the
IGNORE
button until she realized this was not a New Jersey number. It was a Nevada number. Danny?

She picked up the call. “Hello?”

“Cara, hey, it’s me.” Danny’s voice swept through her, a soothing balm to the sting of Rafe’s lack of commitment. “Listen, change of plans. I need you to cancel that money transfer you sent to Benediction. I can’t pick it up, so I need you to send it to Flagstaff instead.”

Her relief at hearing his voice evaporated as the meaning of the words sank in. “Danny, what are you talking about? What wire transfer?”

“The one we talked about last night. Listen, I know I’ve borrowed a lot of money from you already, but this is life and death—”

“Danny, I didn’t talk to you last night. I lost my cell phone and only got it back this morning.”

He gave a rough laugh. “Come on, Sis, this is no time for jokes. I know your voice. You agreed to send me twenty-five hundred dollars.”

“I’m not joking.” Her stomach lurched, and she forced herself to overcome the urge to panic and speak calmly. “Listen to me, Danny. There are some very bad people after you.”

“Yeah, I know. I owe this guy some money. But I’ve got that all worked out. I can pay him back and you, too—”

“No, these people are not from your bookie. They want the stone.”

She could practically hear his panic in the pause that followed. In the forced normalcy he tried to inject into his voice. “What are you talking about, Cara? What stone? These are Tornatelli’s guys.”

“No, they’re not. Danny, you know I love you, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. I love you, too.”

“I’m telling you this to save your life because I love you. The people chasing you are after that stone you took from Bartow’s safe. I can help you, but only if you trust me.”

“Aw, come on, Cara.”

She heard a sound behind her and turned to see Murray in the doorway. He gave her a hand signal to indicate she should keep Danny talking. Obviously they were tracing the call. She nodded.

“This is it, Cara,” Danny was saying. “This is the big score. Bartow really screwed me over by having me arrested for a little joyride, so I figured he owed me, you know?”

Damn it. She squeezed her eyes shut. When had Danny become someone who disregarded the law for his own selfish purposes? Had she had a hand in that by bailing him out so many times, by not letting him take the consequences of his irresponsible actions?

“This thing is going to fix all that,” Danny said. “And I’m going to pay you back every dime I owe you, Cara, with interest. You can buy one of those big houses in Bergen County, way nicer than that condo.”

“I appreciate the thought, Danny. I really do.” She didn’t mention the condo, afraid her anger about it would come through. “But these men are dangerous. They’ve already killed Artie Bartow.”

“Bartow’s dead?”

“Yes. Now listen to me. I can help you, but you have to trust me.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I should keep moving. Bartow’s dead. Holy crap.” Agitation edged his voice.

“Danny, there’s a reward for the return of the stone.” She winced as she lied, but she knew him like no one else. He was about to run, and she didn’t know if she would ever find him if he did.

“A reward?” The panic still lingered, but interest edged his tone.

“Yes. You know John Montana?”

“The millionaire? Yeah, sure.”

“Well, that stone is a family heirloom that was stolen years ago. He’s offered a reward for its return. You could claim that, Danny.”

“Seriously? How much of a reward?”

“A quarter of a million dollars.” She crossed her fingers as she named the dazzling figure. “And since the stone was stolen to begin with, I bet there would be no charges against you.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” She could practically hear him thinking. “I would be like a recovery expert or something. An innocent bystander.”

“Exactly.”

“So how would I do this? Claim the reward, I mean.”

“Well, I’m at John Montana’s house in Sedona,” she said.

“His house? Seriously? How’d that happen?”

“I met his son in Vegas. It’s a long story.”

“Wow, Cara. A millionaire’s son? Way to go, Sis.”

She shook her head at the admiration in his voice. “Tell me where you are, Danny. I could send one of his security staff to pick you up. This guy has personal jets and helicopters, the works. His guy could bring you back here to the estate.”

“An estate, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“It must be really slick.”

“It’s gorgeous. You should see the pool.”

He went silent for a moment, then said, “So they wouldn’t press charges? And I’d get the reward?”

“Yes.” She gripped the phone hard, willing him to agree.

“You know I skipped bail, Cara.”

“I know.”

“I guess I’d have to go back to Vegas and take care of that, huh?”

“Yes. But with all that money, you’d be able to hire a really good defense lawyer.”

“Yeah, and maybe Montana would be so grateful to me that he’d help me out with that, right?”

“I don’t know if he’d pay for a lawyer for you, Danny—”

“No, no. I could handle that part if I have this reward money. But maybe he could give me the name of a good one, you know?”

Her heart nearly leaped from her chest at his reasonable tone, his responsible thinking. “I think he would be happy to recommend someone, Danny.”

“And he’s a good guy?”

“Yes, John Montana is a really good guy.”

“And what about his son? What’s up with you two?”

“I’ll tell you about it when I see you.”

“Yeah, I want the story on that. I don’t want to see you screwed over again like that jerk Warren did to you.”

She laughed, part relief and part pain. “We’ll talk.”

“Yeah, okay. So you won’t believe this, Sis, but I’m in Sedona, too.”

“No way!”

“Way. But I know how smart you are, and I bet you knew that already.”

“Okay, you got me. I knew you were close. But Danny, those bad guys really are after you, and they will kill to get the stone. I don’t want that to happen. I can’t lose you, Boo.” Her voice trembled on his childhood nickname.

“Yeah, I’m not crazy about getting dead, either. The reward deal sounds a lot easier than trying to sell this rock.”

“Tell me where you are,” she said, “and I’ll send someone to get you.”

He rattled off the details, then said, “I can’t wait to see you, Sis. I missed you.”

“Missed you, too. See you soon.” She ended the call, then swiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks before heading back into the house.

Danny was finally coming home.

*   *   *

Danny ended the call and stared at his phone for a minute. Was he a sucker for giving up the big dream for a sure thing? Once upon a time he would have thought exactly that, but now it seemed smarter to turn over the ruby, take the reward money from John Montana, and go back to Vegas to face the music. He was getting too old to keep chasing a dream that seemed impossible to grasp. He needed to make a change, and this seemed like the perfect time.

His phone dinged and he looked at the text message Cara had sent him.
Black SUV license plate MNTNS-5. Guy’s name is Murray.

Okay, that was his ride. He got off the outside bench where he’d called Cara and turned to go back into the tour center to cancel his Grand Canyon reservation.

“Danny Cangialosi?” Two guys in suits blocked his path. He looked from one to the other. They were both dark-haired, dark-eyed, and built like tanker trucks.

“Sorry, no.” He tried to step around them.

One grabbed his arm and snatched the cell phone out of his hand.

“Hey!” Danny jumped for the phone, but the second guy yanked him back.

First Guy brought up the text message. “They’re coming for him. Black SUV.”

“Where are they meeting you?” Second Guy shook him. “Talk.”

“Get the hell off me.” Danny struggled, but the guy had a grip like a vise.

“Hold him.” First Guy shoved Danny’s phone in his pocket as Second Guy jerked his arms behind his back. First Guy did a quick pat-down, then gave a satisfied grunt as he discovered the stone in Danny’s sweatshirt pocket. “Got it.”

“Hey, that’s mine!” Danny fought harder to get free.

“Is it, Mr. Cangialosi?” A third man stepped into view, blond with a thousand-dollar suit and a politician’s smile. “Is it truly?”

“Who the hell are you?” Danny demanded, fear curling in his gut at the look in the newcomer’s crazy green eyes.

“My name is Jain Criten.” First Guy handed the ruby to Criten, who smiled as he studied it in his gloved hand. Who the hell wore gloves in the desert at this time of year? “Normally we would kill you where you stand, Mr. Cangialosi, but luckily for you, we need you breathing for a while yet.” He glanced at First Guy. “Do it.” He turned away and headed toward a sleek town car parked nearby.

First Guy locked eyes with Danny. “You will take us to Cara McGaffigan.”

Danny blinked and shook his head. Dizzy. Must be stress. Or the heat.

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