Ten Thousand Words (53 page)

Watching Xanthe cap the marker, I knew there was no doubt in me. I did wonder if there was any in her.

“Are you sure this is what you really want?” I quietly asked her. “I’m not pressuring you into this, am I?”

She looked up at me, her smile making my pulse jump happily. “It’s what I want. I’m ready. Are you?”

“More than ready,” I assured her.

Ricki and Ronen came in and picked up more boxes.

Xanthe and Rex were leaving all their kitchen stuff for Ronen and his family. Xanthe had a few of her favorite coffee mugs and tea canisters and the like she was taking, but everything else would remain. Their living room furniture and their beds would stay, too.

I had cleared out room for her in our closet a while ago, and over the last two weeks, she’d been filling it up with her clothes.

Heaving a sigh, Xanthe looked toward the stairs. “I’ve got a few more things in my room that need to be boxed up.”

“Chester’s packed,” came Ricki’s voice from the front door. “And Rex, Ronen, and Trey just left with the rest of Rex’s shit already. We’ll take this shit over and come back for the rest.”

“Okay,” she replied. “It shouldn’t take me more than fifteen minutes, twenty tops. Just some notebooks and stuff.”

That didn’t settle well with me, leaving her here on her own. George hadn’t shown himself anywhere near her since the incident at Wurther’s. He was still being watched and reportedly seeing an attractive woman.

“Will you be all right?” I asked softly.

She cocked her brow at me from behind her glasses. “You do know that I’m a grown woman, right?”

“I’m extremely aware of that fact,” I replied. “So much so that every time I’m with you, I’m trying to find ways of getting you out of your big-girl panties.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’ll call you when we’re heading back,” I told her.

“Quit worrying! Jaime’s coming over with Beefcake soon. I won’t be alone for long.”

Giving her brow a kiss, I grabbed the box we’d just taped up and headed out the door. Ricki had Chester ready to go, and once I was strapped in, we pulled out into the street.

“You think it’s all right to leave her?” I asked him.

“I got a guy tailing George, and I haven’t heard anything. So, yeah. The poor woman is probably dying for some alone time,” Ricki muttered under his breath.

I rolled my eyes.

Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up in front of my
and
Xanthe’s house and started unloading the van. I unlocked the front door, and we lugged Xanthe’s belongings inside.

The last thing we dragged in was her writing desk. Her computer had arrived earlier in the day, and I knew the first thing she planned on doing was setting it up in her own office.

As we maneuvered into the house and toward the stairs, Ricki’s phone started ringing.

“You need to answer that?” I asked, feeling a weird squirming beneath my sternum.

“I’ll call ’em back,” he huffed, hefting the desk up the first few steps.

Halfway up the steps, it rang again.

“Ricki—”

“Just keep on truckin’, fucker!” he snapped.

We dropped the desk off in the hallway on the second floor, and he dug out his phone from his pocket. When he glanced at the screen, his face went pale. Dialing whoever it was back, he stared at me hard.

“What’s going on, Jones?”

Whatever Jones was saying was not good. My stomach dropped, and my throat closed around my gag reflex.

“And where the fuck was that?” he yelled. “Fuck!”

Waving at me to follow him, he ran down the stairs, and I flew after him. I didn’t question him. Running outside, I threw myself into the van as he ran around. I hadn’t even bothered to lock the house. My heart was threatening to explode.

It was happening.

She was in danger.

It was
him
.

“Send me a photo of the bitch,” said Ricki before hanging up.

Shoving the keys into the ignition, we peeled out down the street.

“What’s going on?” I half-whispered. I was feeling too sick to use more vocal strength.

“George gave Jones the slip not five minutes after we left.”

“Why didn’t he call sooner?”

“He thought George went into a shop. When he didn’t come back out, Jones went in. The clerk said George needed the restroom, and Jones just found the restroom window open. He’s trying to find George.”

“How did he know?” I asked, my voice getting stronger. “How did he know to give Jones the slip?”

Ricki’s phone chimed with a text message. He glanced at it, his face turning stony. Tossing the phone at me, he pointed at it.

“
That
bitch. She’s the only person he’s had regular contact with for the last few weeks.”

I glanced at the picture.

Gabriella.

Then, another one popped up. And another. Several photos of George and Gabriella together. They didn’t look to be romantically involved. I’d taken enough photos in my lifetime to recognize captured human emotions, and there were none in these. This was all business.

“What the fuck?” I shouted.

Ricki blasted the accelerator and snapped his fingers at me at the same time. “Call Ronen.”

Scrolling through his Contacts, I found Ronen’s name and called. Ricki snapped his fingers again, and I handed him the phone.

“Brother,” he said when Ronen answered, “we have a problem.”

Xanthe

The last box was in my arms as I headed back downstairs. I heard the front door open as I left my old room behind.

“You didn’t have any problems with Beefcake, did you?” I asked Jaime as I made it to the landing.

Sometimes, he’d give Jaime or Rex a stink if they were the ones getting him instead of me.

“Elaine…”

Looking up from the top of the box, I stared at George Kastor standing in my living room.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I seethed, throwing the box to the floor in my fury. “Get out of here!”

He held up his hands, showing me he meant no harm.

Right, like that makes me feel easier.

“I just need to talk to you.”

This was just not happening. I’d been lulled into a false sense of security over the last few weeks. This lunatic had stayed well away from me, my friends, my work. The fucking second I had been alone, he’d shown up.

He stared at me hard.

My skin crawled. “What do you want?”

“I want to know why you didn’t wait for me!”

“What?”

“I went through hell to get to you! Kidnapped and tortured, imprisoned for three years. It was only the thought of making it home to you that kept me going!”

Storming past him into the kitchen, keeping one eye on him, I grabbed my phone off the counter.
Damn it.
There were several missed calls from Oliver.
Shit.
He was going to freak out.
Rightfully so, it would seem.
I quickly pushed the button to call him back and placed the phone on the counter, hoping George would think I’d just checked it.

He followed behind me.

“You stay the hell away from me, George,” I snapped, putting distance between us.

George took a deep breath. “You made a huge enemy by dating Ollie Fairfax.”

“I’m sure,” I retorted.

“Gabriella’s the reason I knew you were here alone.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”

It did, but I wasn’t going to let him know that. There hadn’t been a single word about the woman since Ollie had come back from Geneva. He hadn’t seen her or spoken to her, as far as I knew.

“What does she have to do with this?”

George ground his teeth and looked around the place. “She told me that you were moving in with him today.”

“How does she even know that?”

He shrugged.

“Why are you here?”
I demanded. “I told you at Wurther’s that I have nothing to say to you. You’re violating the restraining order. You’re not to be anywhere near me!”

“I can’t let you do this,” he stated, looking me in the eyes.

There was no sanity whatsoever in them. I was staring at someone who had no grasp on reality.

“You don’t want him, Elaine. You told me that no one makes you feel the way I do. It’s more important than ever that you shake off their mind manipulations. Your life is in danger.”

Fear was making it difficult for me to think. I should play along with this. If I just played it cool, if I said what George needed to hear, then I could make it until help arrived. Jaime was on her way, and from this distance, I could see that Oliver had picked up the phone and was listening.

“You stole my work, published it as your own—published something I never, ever intended to be put out into public—then you fucking beat me unconscious, concussed me, and cracked my ribs!” I told George, wondering if this was the right play.

It was the truth, insane as it was. But just maybe…

“I told you, that wasn’t me!” he cried. “I was nearly killed myself that night! They’re trying to tear us apart. We can’t let them do this to us!” His eyes darted around the kitchen. “They’re everywhere, Elaine. They’ve been watching us. Gabriella wants to help—”

“George, Gabriella is not your friend,” I said quietly. The woman had taken this sick man and used him. “What is her involvement in this?”

“She said that it might not be too late, that if you could be reminded of what we had, then I could save you. If not…”

“If not?”

If I made it out of this alive, I was going to have a serious talk with Ricki about the slickness of his boys.

George’s hands went into his hair, and he pulled hard, his eyes screwing shut, his jaw clenching.

Now,
now
, I was terrified. He opened his eyes, and the emptiness in them was stifling. Icy pinches darted down my spine.

Where the fuck is everyone?

Looking to his left, George noticed the set of knives stored in its wooden block. He danced his fingertips over several hilts before settling on the smallest one—a paring knife. Slowly, he withdrew it, seemingly fascinated with it. He drew the sharp blade across the pad of his thumb.

Mesmerized, I watched as a swell of blood seeped from the cut. I swallowed loudly, drawing his attention back to me. His eyes, such a startling dark blue, met mine.

“Gabriella said you’d have to die if you didn’t come with me.” He shook his head. “I don’t want you dead. You were all I thought about while I was imprisoned. I love you, Elaine. I’ve missed you so much. It was only the thought of you that made that place bearable…and the memories we had made together. We could have that back. I want it back.”

“How…” I stopped myself.
What the fuck is going on in his head?

“It’s all I think about. Being with you was the best time of my life.”

“George…” I whispered. I had no idea what to say. The terror was robbing me of rational thought.

He took a step toward me, and my heart raced as I watched his hand tighten around the knife handle. My spine snapped straight, my body going into fight-or-flight mode. He took another step, and I backed up into the counter.

“Nooo!”

Both George and I jumped, hearing that deranged bellow. Oliver charged George, punching him in the face, knocking him into the counter. Ricki skidded into the kitchen, and Ronen and Rex were right behind him.

Oliver was in berserker mode, wailing on George.

Somehow, George twisted around, getting loose and shoving back at his assailant.

Oliver grunted with the impact, grabbed George by the throat, and tossed him at Ricki. Ricki jumped on George’s back with his arm around George’s throat, cutting off his air supply.

George’s hands were empty.

My eyes slowly took in the sight of my beloved. Oliver Fairfax, a man so beautiful, I had dreamed him up as my hero long before I’d ever set eyes on him in the flesh. Tall, strong, poised, and proud. A man so brilliant, he was the sun my world revolved around.

“Oh God…” I whispered.

Oliver sank to his knees, his head bowed, staring at the knife protruding from his lower abdomen. Blood bloomed in a garish stain from the wound through his gray hoodie.

“Love?” His deep voice was soft with surprise.

More than the fear that dealing with George’s lunacy had inspired, this…
this
was the most terrifying moment of my life. The mere thought of a world without Oliver Fairfax in it was the greatest pain I’d ever known. In an instant, I was by his side, wrapping my arms around his chest.

“It’s all right,” I told him, genuinely having no idea if it was.

“Get it out,” Ollie whispered. “Please. Get it out.”

“Lie down first, okay? I’ll take it out.”

As I held his upper body as well as I could, he sank into me and straightened his top leg. “Fuck,” he gasped. “It hurts. Take it out.”

“What the
fuck
is going on here?” Jaime stood in the kitchen entrance, a spitting, hissing Beefcake in his carrier hanging from her hand.

On the floor in front of her was Ricki, who was sitting on the chest of an unconscious George. Rex and Ronen were standing like soldiers behind him, just waiting for Ricki’s command.

“Help her,” Ricki said to his wife. Then, he said into his phone, “I need a medic van and a cleanup crew. Got a man down.”