The Pawn (Shattered Series Book 1) (4 page)

        Dr. Roma’s voice was calm. “You’ve suffered a horrible accident, and because of it, you’ve been in a coma for the past two months.”

                     “A coma?” she asked, confused. “I-I don’t understand.”

                    Brows pinched together in a frown, he ignored her statement. “Olivia Lange, twenty-eight years old, native of Charleston, Georgia,” the doctor continued on while shining the pen light in her eyes. Satisfied, he clicked it off before shoving it into his white lab coat. “But, you’re recuperating far away from there---worlds away from it---Laramie Rock to be exact.”

                     “Will this be permanent?” she asked, staring at him with shiny, teary eyes. “I mean, me not being able to remember anything?”

                     “It’s hard to say, and while I don’t want to frighten you, I don’t want to fill you with false hope either,” Dr. Roman sighed. “After more definitive testing, I’ll be able to render a complete diagnosis. But, for now, just celebrate the success that you’ve come out of the dark fog.”

        As he turned away, she called out. “Wait.”

        Frowning again, Dr. Roma returned to her. “Yes, Ms. Lange?”

       “Why am I here? Why am I not at a hospital? Where’s my family? Anyone that knows me?” she asked, clutching her head with unsteady hands. In a rush, the blinding pain shot through it, and once more, she struggled to focus. “I-I can’t remember. I can’t remember, and it hurts. It hurts,” she sobbed uncontrollably. “Please, help me.”

       “Sshhh,” Dr. Roma said, easing her down with great care. “Don’t over exert yourself---you’re not quite out of the woods yet. Right now, your first priority is taking care of your health. As scary as things are for you, not getting better should be your worst fear.” After tucking the bed covers around her, he gave her a firm look. “Everything else, all the things that you ask me, they will come later. I promise. Now, get some rest.”

        Swallowing back more tears, she nodded.

        When the door closed behind him, she released the pent-up sobs. Curling up into a tight ball under the covers, she embraced the misery.

        Moments later, tears spent, she sat up in the bed.

        Though it was still day, the heavy curtains were drawn, leaving the room with barely any lighting.

        She stared around the semi-dark room dejectedly.

        If she’d been comatose for two months, why weren’t any elated family members visiting her? Certainly, wouldn’t her awakening be worthy of a celebration? But, except for the good doctor and housekeeper, she hadn’t seen anyone. Besides that, the place was too quiet.

        As she lifted an IV-strapped hand, she winced as pain shot through her arm down to the elbow. In the semi-darkness, the purplish bruises didn’t seem as terrifying as before. Her gaze shot to the nightstand on the left side of the bed. An oval hand mirror lay flat against it. With a badly trembling hand, she picked it up and stared back at the shadowy reflection.

        The long black tresses touched her shoulders, and her skin was pale, but regaining some color. Light brown eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips, she mulled, shaking all over.

        “Who are you, Olivia Lange?” she whispered.

        Not even the silence held the answer.

***

        “Duke Addison has half of the city officials on his payroll, not to mention the moles in the Atlanta PD. That’s how the bastard always manages to stay one step ahead. But, in the meantime, he has been neutralized. I’ve made my move. How he responds is up to him, but I’ll be ready,” Jarrod said coldly, staring out the window at Sabatino Imports, later that afternoon on the northern side of Atlanta, Georgia. Swiveling in the office chair, he faced his friend again. “When Addison and that whipped-ass, punk son of his are bleeding crimson red, I’ll be satisfied.”

                    “We need more than an amnesiac to make that happen. I’m still not exactly sure how she’ll help us build a strong case against him.” Lounging in the high back chair, best friend Marc Angelo gave him a direct look. “And
how
does Olivia Lange fit into all of this? This facet of the vendetta is nothing but personal on your front.”

                    Eyeing his friend, he lifted a quizzical brow. “Haven’t I been clear as to what my intentions are where she’s concerned? She’s the pawn---”

                     “For fuck’s sake, Jarrod, stop being so damned cryptic and say what you really mean,” Marc let out an exasperated breath. “The woman is in a coma and has been for the past two months. What do you propose to do with her?”

                    Tapping the pen against the desk, he pushed back the pang of momentary guilt. “Damn it, Angelo!” he muttered irritably, hurling the pen down. “I’m not responsible for the woman’s accident. That part wasn’t my doing. I’m capable of many things, but blowing up a church is not one of them!”

                    “Of course, I know that, you stupid fool!” Marc explained, rising up in the chair. “It’s just that---”

                    “What in the hell do you want me to do?” Frustrated, he stood up from behind the desk. “Take her straight to Addison so that she can continue to be one of his victims? No, as far as I’m concerned, I’m doing the woman a favor---saving her from a private hell that no one deserves to live.”

                     “Talk to me, dude, what’s going on with you? You’re more on edge than you’ve ever been,” Marc added, studying him close. “Has this revenge thing against the Addison’s taken over your entire life?”

       “Because of those bastards, I’m the man that I am today,” he said, numbed, facing the outside world again as he stared out the window. “Whatever piece of humanity I had left, they’ve killed it. Crippled me into this meaningless nothing, and even I’m too ashamed to look at him in the mirror.”

        “You’re human, Jarrod. Like everyone else, you’ve made mistakes,” Marc sighed heavily. “But, this thing with Olivia Lange---someone’s going to get hurt.”

        “What do you think I’m going to do to her?” he demanded, whirling around. “I’m a lot of things, Angelo. But, I’d never take my hand against a woman.”

        “But, you’re not above manipulating this situation to your advantage, right?” Marc challenged. “Stop evading the question. What are your plans for Olivia Lange?”

        “She appears to be innocent, but she has to know about these unsavory dealings and this secret merger that Addison’s involved in.” A calculating look crossed his face. “But, that’s not all, my friend. I’m going to take the very thing that Addison’s prodigal son wants to possess---Olivia Lange.” With a quiet look, Jarrod sat down. “Through her, I
will
get revenge. How? By being the total exact opposite of him. I’m going to seduce her---be anything and everything that she wants. And I want her to come to me on her own terms. When she does, I’m going to prove to her what kind of monster Matt Addison is, and then, in a grand show of epic proportion, I’m going to reveal her to the insidious bastard. By then, she’ll be so disgusted by him, and she won’t have anything to do with him. And that end result will be like a gilded sword lancing his monstrous heart.” He leaned back in the chair. “I’ve done my homework. If it’s anything or anyone that’ll make Matt Addison crawl, it’s her.” Sighing, he shook his head. “Again, we’re doing Olivia Lange a huge favor by revealing the truth. When it’s all over, she’ll have her freedom. Then, we’ll go our separate ways and never see each other again.”

        As he said the last words, hollowness rang.

        Hadn’t he been grappling with that very fact for months, he mulled, distracted by the haunting thought.

        When Marc spoke again, he started.

        “And things are going to be that simple? Addison loses, and we win, for once?” Marc probed with an arched brow.

        Fighting against the irritation, he frowned again. “Trust me, on this Marc, it’s going to work.”

        “Only one problem,” Marc suggested, leaning forward. “What happens when she wakes up? How are you going to explain yourself? Do you think that she’s going to willingly stay with you, a stranger, a man that she doesn’t even know?”

        He resisted the urge to squirm in the chair.

       
But, wasn’t it time that he dropped the bombshell?

        “Olivia and I already know each other,” he added hesitantly, meeting his friend’s gaze. “As a matter of fact, we’ve grown close.”

        The incredulous shock registered along Marc’s face. “What? Why didn’t you tell me that you two already knew one another?” Amazed, he shook his head. “Son-of-a-bitch…talk about careful omissions. I’d say that’s a glaring one!”

        “Do you take me for a fool?  Of course, I’ve been laying the groundwork for awhile. For well over a year, I’ve been frequenting her art gallery, and we’ve become,” he said, hesitating, “friends. We’ve spent time together, and on occasion, we’d gone out to do things. While she was involved with Addison, I’m not a fool. Though she tried to hide her attraction for me, I sensed it, and several times, she came close to embracing it. But, being the kind of woman that she is, she didn’t act on it.”

        Liar…

        How convenient that he’d left out that
one
close encounter that they’d shared, just before the eve of her wedding.

        The true implication of the moment…

        And what they’d felt---

       
It’d left them both reeling
.

        Thrown off by the thought, he scribbled notes on the first paper in the stack, but still found it difficult to concentrate. To his chagrin, it wasn’t enough to end Marc’s probing.

        “And you?” Marc asked, intrigued, raising a brow. “Are you immune to her charms, or do you hold the same dangerous attraction?”

        “We’re not talking about me, are we?” he quipped tightly, and just why the question bothered him so, he couldn’t decide. But, he
didn’t
feel anything for her; so, why did falseness ring to that notion, he thought uncomfortably, clearing his throat.  “What’s important is that she already trusts me.”

        Marc frowned. “And when she awakens, how will you explain things?”

        “When the time comes to cross that bridge, I’ll cross it.”

        “You arrogant bastard,” Marc muttered, shaking his head. Then, he studied him closely. “So, what happens if she falls in love with you? What then, Romeo?”

        “Things won’t get that far because I don’t plan on letting her get too close,” he stated firmly, tenting his hands together. “Keeping an emotional distance---I’m the master at that.”

        “Damn it, Jarrod, no good can come from this.”

        The intercom buzzed in the upscale office.

        “Mr. Sabatino,” the receptionist said. “You have an important call on line one.”

        “Julie, I specifically asked you to hold all my calls,” Jarrod said, fighting to hide his irritation, and he ignored Marc’s burning stare from across the desk. “For the next half hour, I don’t want be disturbed, do---”

        “Sir, its Dr. Roma, and he said that it was of the utmost importance.”

        Shell-shocked for a fast moment, he finally responded. “Thank you, Julie. I’ll take it.” Then, raising a fast brow, he inclined his head at Marc, and he watched as his friend strode across the office. Turning his attention to the call, tensing, he answered. “What’s happened?”

        “Olivia has awakened.”

        At the news, the air expelled from his lungs, and he forced himself to breathe normally. Leaning closer to the desk, he sat forward in the chair and was gladdened by its support. “When did it happen?” he asked stiffly.

        “Just a short while ago,” Dr. Roma hedged. “And it’s worse than I feared.”

        Stiffening, he demanded. “What do you mean?”

        “Olivia is suffering from amnesia. She doesn’t remember anything.”

        He stared across the open space.

        A tense silence followed.

        “Jarrod, are you there?” Dr. Roma muttered on the other end.

        He gripped the phone tightly. “Is her memory loss permanent?”

        Dr. Roma sighed. “At the moment, it’s difficult to say, and without further assessments, I’m not ready to render judgment yet. Getting her back on her feet after the coma is of the utmost concern.”

        “Of course,” Jarrod agreed, already standing. “I’ll be seeing you shortly. I’m taking the next flight out of Atlanta, and I should be there by morning. We’ll catch up then. Goodbye.”

        After ending the call, he found Marc sitting in the chair across the desk again, and so preoccupied he’d been, that he’d missed his return.

        “Well, well, well…it seems like that time has come for you to cross that bridge,” Marc suggested, tenting his hands together, and his dark brown eyes showed his apprehension. “What in the hell are you going to do now?” He bit back another curse. “This thing with Addison is going to send us both straight to hell.”