They were both on their last nerve at the moment. If anyone found out what they had done, Kat would not only lose her job but they would both do jail time. So far, though, Deshaun’s death was being treated as a robbery gone south and there was no indication that this was going change. As far as Kyle was concerned it was over.
The door closed and Kyle let out a deep sigh, realizing he’d been holding his breath. Peace at last. He knew that she was only looking out for him, but her constant efforts to keep him upbeat were starting to grate. He didn’t want to “think positive” or try to be “rational”. The only thing he wanted to do was to get on the next plane to the UK, hunt down that bastard Sergei, and finish it once and for all.
***
As Kat turned the key in the ignition, she rested her head on the steering wheel. She was worried. Since they’d returned that night a few days ago and found the note from Tara, Kyle had been like a tightly coiled spring, ready to pop at any minute. She’d been around for the fallout too many times now with Kyle not to know what was coming next. Why do I do it? she asked herself as she headed into work.
As her thoughts played on the tragedies he’d suffered since she’d known him, she realized that they had developed a bond that had continued because she cared about him, pure and simple. Not in any romantic way, but because they’d worked together, and because she’d seen what he’d been through, the rotten cards life had handed him.
Beyond that, he’d been the best partner she’d ever had. She’d always known he had her back, be it on the street, or up against the brass. She’d trusted him completely and she still did. It had hurt when, after Lori had died, he’d shut her out, but she understood his reasons. Even though what they had done couldn’t be described as an affair, it was still wrong and they’d both regretted it.
Her heart heavy, she replayed the event in her mind, the single time it had happened. It had been during the very early days of his relationship with Lori, not long after the two of them had met. They’d been dealing with a particularly horrible case involving a mother and child which had affected them both deeply.
That night, they’d finally gotten the evidence to arrest the husband for their murders and, needing to release some of their pain, they’d gone to his place for drinks. They both knew that the gruesome details of the murders were too much. It was not something you could share with others, not something you wanted to take home to your family.
They’d talked long into the night, sharing their grief, one drink following another. Throwing caution to the wind, they’d ended up finding comfort in each other’s arms that night. It had been purely physical, a release, and they’d both regretted it ever since.
When the opportunity to get back in touch over Luccio had presented itself, she’d jumped at the chance. What she hadn’t expected, though, was to get drawn in to covering up a dead body for him. But she had done it without question, and she would do it again if necessary.
He deserved to be happy now, after everything he’d been through and, after meeting Tara, she’d known that she could be the woman for him. She’d been as surprised as he was when they’d come home that night to find the note. Kyle had explained then, sharing the whole story
Kyle had told her all about Tara’s past, about Sergei and about her daughter. Her heart ached for Tara, and she’d known, without a doubt, that she would have done exactly the same thing. She wasn’t a mother, but she was an aunt and she would do anything for her niece. Jamie was twenty one now and due to get married next summer, and the thought of her going through something like Tara had made her physically ill.
She completely understood Kyle’s need to find Tara, to keep her safe. What worried her now, though, was what he was going to do next. She’d taken a couple of days leave after the shooting, citing personal reasons, but now she had to get back to work and today was the first time she was leaving him alone for any length of time. As she pulled her car into the lot behind the police department, she hoped to God he wouldn’t do anything stupid.
Forty
The amber liquid caught the light as Sergei swirled it around the glass. He sat in his office above the casino, his feet on his desk, feeling quite pleased with himself. Tara had played right into his hands, his plan flawless. He grinned in anticipation, picturing the look on her face as he told her she would never see Anna, never get to know her daughter. Just the thought of Tara’s agony made him smile.
Minutes earlier, he had sat in the parking lot of Tara’s apartment, looking forward to implementing his plan, eagerly awaiting his opportunity to inflict on her the pain that she had earned. Gazing at the light in her window, he knew she was there, waiting. Knowing she was there made it even more real, and he looked forward to it.
He stepped out of the car, his eyes fixed on the light in her window. He had planned on going to see Tara on his return to London from seeing Anna, eager to implement his retribution, but so far he had resisted the urge. He pulled his cell phone out, wanting to make sure everything was in place.
“No trouble?” he said, as Joey answered.
“No boss, but she’s pretty unhappy.”
“You’re not talking to her, are you?”
“Nope, not a word. She keeps asking me where you are, when you’re coming, but I don’t say anything at all,” he said, his enjoyment clear in his voice.
“Well, then, let’s give her more to wonder about. I won’t be seeing her quite yet.” He slipped his phone back in his pocket, pleased at the opportunity to extend her misery. No, let her sweat. It would make the punishment even more satisfying when the time came.
Since he’d found out she was coming back, he’d spent many hours deciding what would be the best way to punish her. She was different than the other girls, and always had been. His long history with Tara had made him weak, allowing her betrayal to be much more personal. The punishment would have to be that much more severe, and he had just the thing in mind.
The last couple of days had been spent getting it organized, which was no easy thing at such short notice. Hours of preparation, though, had produced the perfect plan. His excitement had grown as he’d told the participants what was on offer, and they’d jumped at the chance. He’d known they would.
Satisfied with the arrangements, he poured another drink, savoring the moment, reveling in his revenge. It was nearly time for this to end. Once and for all.
Forty-One
Lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling, Tara was startled out of her thoughts. The front door opened and closed, and she heard the unmistakable sound of voices coming from the living room. Quietly getting up from the bed, she crept over to the bedroom door, her ear resting on the smooth wood. He was here. She’d recognize that voice anywhere. He’d finally come.
The determination she’d felt on the plane flying over faltered now, and was replaced by a deep fear in the pit of her stomach. She knew what he was capable of and she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the chances of getting out of this alive were slim to none.
There were no other options. She had to try. She had to convince him somehow. She knew he had a soft spot where she was concerned and she needed to use that now to her full advantage. Taking deep breaths, she tried to push the fear down deep and get her determination back. If she let the fear take over, he would pounce, like a lion on an injured deer, and she would be lost.
She walked quickly to the window as she heard the footsteps approach the door. As the door opened and revealed Sergei standing there, she fought the urge to be physically sick.
“Welcome back, Tara.” The self-satisfied, smug look on his face and the tone of his voice made it clear that this was not a genuine welcome. Not that she’d expected one.
“Sergei.”
“What? No hug?” he chuckled.
“Where’s my daughter?” Tara said, trying to keep her voice strong, but she couldn’t stop the slight quiver as she spoke.
“Anna? Oh, she’s where you’ll never find her.”
“You said s
he wanted to meet me.” She couldn’t stop the slight pleading tone in her voice.
Sergei laughed. “You didn’t really believe that, did you? Oh, Tara, you never used to be this naïve.”
In an instant, the rage and hatred she felt towards this man now enveloped her like a cape. All reason left her, and she threw herself at him, kicking and screaming.
Joey’s hand caught her arm before she reached Sergei, and she was spun around, still kicking. Her arms flailed as he grabbed her by the waist and sent her sailing onto the bed.
“Settle down, Tara,” Joey spat, his knee holding her still and his hands on her wrists.
“Now, now, Tara. Is that any way to behave?” Sergei’s eyes gleamed as he folded his arms and leaned against the door. His smile spread as he waited for her to calm down. He was clearly enjoying the pain he was causing her now.
Her anger turned to despair as the reality of what she was facing sunk in. She stopped kicking, staring up at the ceiling, her hope crushed. She couldn’t keep it in now and, sobbing, she begged him.
“Please. Sergei, please. She’s my daughter! Why are you doing this to me?”
“Ah, think again, my dear. That’s where you’re wrong. She’s my daughter. You just happen to be the one who gave birth to her.”
“I made a mistake. I’m back now and I promise it’ll never happen again. I’ll do anything you want. Please just let me see her!” Tara pleaded with him.
Sergei said nothing, his smile spreading wider, his eyes glistening. He stared at his fingernails, his silence deafening.
“I want to see her!” Tara shouted at him now, desperation getting the better of her.
He laughed out loud then, a short bark of a laugh.
“You do? Well, it’s never going to happen. She thinks her mother was a good woman who died in childbirth. You really think I’m going to let you anywhere near her?” He turned to leave the room then. “Now, clean yourself up. We’re going on a little trip in the morning, and you want to look your best.” The smile he gave her then told her this was not a trip she was going to enjoy.
Forty-Two
If he hadn’t been shot, he would have been on the next flight after her but the loss of blood and the pain had kept him confined to bed for the first couple of days. The circumstances of Deshaun’s death meant they couldn’t see a doctor, so he had had to heal on his own.
Now that his arm was improving, though, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He had no idea what Sergei had planned. He did know it was unlikely that Tara would come out of it alive and that he’d wasted enough time. It was all he could do to keep back the thought that he might already be too late.
Over the past six months, Tara had shared a lot about her life before she had met him. The more he’d learned, the more his love for her had grown. That she’d endured such horrible events at the hands of her mother and Sergei for so many years, and developed into such an amazing woman, was incredible to him. Along with his love, his desire to protect her grew as well, and he had vowed to himself that Sergei would never hurt her again.
His memory of those conversations was vivid, his anger had been so great, and luckily she’d told him a lot about Sergei’s operation. He’d paid close attention to every word, cataloguing each detail for the future, when he would have the opportunity to settle the score. He was glad he had, as it meant that this time, Kyle knew exactly where to go to find him.
The door had barely closed behind Kat before Kyle jumped up, grabbing the phone book to find the next flight to London. He’d been in luck, and the next flight was later that evening. The only seats available had been in Business Class, though, so his credit card had taken a bit of a battering. As he read the card number to the agent, he knew that he would do anything, spend everything to get Tara back. The next available flight in coach had been the following day and he was not prepared to wait.
As he hung up the phone, his thoughts turned to the next dilemma. The flight was booked, but the trick was going to be getting away before Kat found out. That she would try and stop him wasn’t in any doubt.
Now that the flight was booked, he couldn’t sit still. He wanted to be on that plane right now, getting closer to Tara. Going into their bedroom, he felt her presence, remembering how happy they had been here. He could still smell her scent as he reached out and touched a dress she had left. She had worn it not long ago, before Deshaun’s murder, before she had left him. He brought the soft cloth to his cheek, remembering the light in her eyes that night, the feel of her hand in his. They had made love that night, and with the memory of it, he felt himself yearning for her once again.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and took out her note from the bedside table, reading it for the hundredth time. He couldn’t believe he’d been so blind. He’d been so caught up in getting justice for his family that he hadn’t seen what was going on right before his own eyes.
In her note, Tara explained about the texts from Sergei and why she’d kept them from him. He wasn’t angry at her for that. He was angry at himself for behaving in a way that made it impossible for her to come to him. What hurt most, though, was that he had made her feel that her opinions weren’t important, that she wasn’t important.
His head fell into his hands as the note fluttered to the floor. If anything happened to her, he’d never be able to forgive himself. He had to find her and bring her home. Then he would be able to show her just how important to him she really was.
Kyle splashed some cold water on his face, bracing himself for the next step. He stuffed as little as possible in a small carry-on, moving quickly. He wanted to travel light. He had no idea what was going to happen when he got to London, and he couldn’t be carting a great big suitcase around with him.
Throwing in a packet of painkillers, he zipped up the bag. He was ready. Carrying it to the kitchen, he debated whether or not to leave a note for Kat and decided against it. He would call her from the airport once he was safely on the plane. He knew she would go nuts. He did feel a bit ungrateful after everything she’d done for him but it couldn’t be helped. He’d make it up to her later, after Tara was safe.
He just hoped that he would be able to find her and that he wasn’t already too late.
Forty-Three
Tara started as Joey barged in her room, locking the door behind him.
“It’s time to go,” Joey said as he grabbed her bag, stuffing it with clothes.
“Where are we going?” she said, hoping this time she might get a response.
His smile turned her stomach as she got what she’d expected. Silence.
He’d still refused to tell her where they were going as she was ushered in the back of Sergei’s car, but she had known she wasn’t coming back to the apartment, at least not right away, based on how many clothes he’d packed for her in her bag. That bag was now in the trunk where he had put it before climbing behind the steering wheel. Sergei had gotten into the car beside her, immediately opening a newspaper, and putting an end to any attempts at conversation.
She’d had a bath in the en-suite bathroom and dressed in some of the clothes that still hung in her closet from when she’d left all those months ago. When she’d arrived, she’d been astonished, and disturbed, to see that the apartment was exactly the same as when she’d left it. All her things were still where she’d left them and all her clothes had remained untouched in her wardrobe. It was almost as if Sergei had expected her to walk back in at any minute. Smoothing the plain black shift dress over her hips, and looking in the mirror, Tara had felt as if she was stepping back into the skin of her old life, as if L.A. had been no more than a minor detour, a blip. She’d wanted to rip the dress off and tear it to shreds, but if this is what she needed to do, then she would do it. She had to play along until she got her chance.
***
She’d assumed they were going for a short drive across London, but it was over two hours later when they pulled up outside a house in the Dorset countryside. Opening the
back door, Joey waited just until she got out before taking her by the arm.
“Take her inside. Put her in the spare room and lock the door,” Sergei instructed him.
“Wait! Sergei, where are we? What’s going on?” She felt hope rise again as she took in the mansion in front of her, the beauty of the countryside. He gestured at the house. “This is where my daughter lives.”
Tara’s heart started pounding faster. Oh, God! She was going to meet her daughter!
Sergei looked at her and smiled. “Don’t get too excited. She’s away on a school trip for the week and you’ll be long gone by the time she gets back.”
No! This couldn’t be happening. She was so close. To be where she lived, where her daughter that she had thought long dead actually breathed and slept. The rush of emotion was almost dizzying, and if it weren’t for Joey’s hand gripping her arm, she was sure she would have fallen to her knees.
As she was pulled roughly towards the house and in through the front door, Tara drank in every detail hungrily, hoping to catch a glimpse of anything that would tell her more about her baby. Unfortunately, there was nothing. No family photos or school portraits adorned the walls, only very modern looking pieces of artwork. There were no shoes or coats left in a pile inside the front door.
The house was stark. Beautiful, yes, but not imbued with a sense of family. There was no indication, from what she could see, that a teenager lived there. She was so busy taking in her surroundings that she tripped as Joey pulled her up the stairs and she fell sprawled face down at the top of the steps, cutting her lip.
“Be careful!” Sergei barked. “I don’t want the goods damaged before our guests arrive.”
Tara’s heart sank. What did he mean? She didn’t have a chance to ask him though as Joey pulled her to her feet and guided her to a door at the end of the corridor. Opening the door, he pushed her inside, immediately pulling the door closed behind him. Tara heard the key turn in the lock.
Forty-Four