22. Harrison
22
HARRISON
B y the time I’m finished with the police, I want nothing more than my home and the woman waiting for me there.
Rae and I have things to discuss, things we didn’t get to last night.
Still, I have to make one stop on the way. There’s something I haven’t been able to shake, something made more real by Mischa’s appearance last night—an act not of calculation but of desperation.
“If you’re following up about your suggestion of a DJ, I’ve considered it. She’s not ready.”
Christian’s voice comes from the doorway of his study.
I snap shut the book I was pretending to read.
“She is. She filled Debajo for the first time in years.”
“Debajo is not La Mer.”
“No. It’s harder. It was empty. Desolate.” And it came with me. “Give her the chance. I promise she won’t disappoint you.”
“You would risk your reputation in this?”
“Yes.”
“Then have her meet me this afternoon. We can discuss it.”
Grim satisfaction grips me. I have no doubt Rae will convince him.
“I’m surprised you’re not with her now.”
Seeing Mischa looming over her at Debajo set a cold fury loose in me I haven’t felt since my parents died.
I wanted to kill him.
But I wanted to save her more.
The irony didn’t escape me, because it was my fault she was hurt. Mischa heard me admit to Christian that… what? I care for her?
He overestimated what I meant and went after her.
Or he didn’t overestimate it.
All I knew was I needed to get her home, to make sure she was safe and comfortable.
But when I took her upstairs, the girl from the club slowly melted away, replaced with the woman I’ve come to admire and appreciate and fucking hunger for.
I had no right to ask her for anything, but her raw response ripped away what was left of my control.
“I’ll be with her soon,” I promise Christian, picturing her asleep in my bed now.
I’ll make it up to her—last night, and everything else I’ve done.
Including how I claimed her against the wall in a furious, graceless rush.
There are countless ways I’ve imagined being with her, a thousand temptations to explore together that would take more than a single night, not to mention a single hour, to enjoy.
Her term at Debajo is concluded. On paper, we might be finished.
In reality…
We’re far from it. And now I have a reason to keep her here while we figure that out.
I start for the door, but Christian’s voice interrupts me. “Is that what you came to say?”
I pause. “If things escalate with Mischa,” I say, “know that I wasn’t the one who initiated. Since school, we’ve kept things civilized. But I want La Mer. And if he won’t play by the rules, I can’t promise to.”
“Breaking the rules. You come by it honestly.”
I frown, ripples of discontent making me turn back. “Tell me what you meant about my father yesterday.”
The older man crosses to the windows, peering out into the bright morning. “He’s not the paragon of virtue you seem to think.”
“My parents were above reproach. The second they learned about the drugs and other activities the Ivanov family was running behind the scenes, they wanted out. They would’ve died rather than supporting that kind of evil.”
In the end, they did.
But Christian’s silence is unsettling.
“You idolized them,” he says at last. “It’s dangerous to paint anyone as more than human. Particularly those we love.”
I don’t have the time to argue with him now, or to play games.
“If I promise to prove you wrong about my parents, promise me you won’t sell the club to anyone else in the interim,” I say. “You’re a patient man. Give me the benefit of the same.”
This deal is everything. I will him to agree.
“You have three months,” he says, sighing.
I stride out of his house and out to the waiting limo.
The ride back feels interminable. I glance at my phone, seeing the barrage of missed calls as a result of turning alerts off for the morning to deal with more important things than business.
They don’t matter.
I picture Rae’s face when I tell her about Christian’s offer to meet. This could be the single most important show of her career. It won’t make up for last night, but it’s a start.
The second we pull up to my villa, Natalia is out front, wringing her hands.
“Senor King.” She crosses to the car, her expression a mask of distress.
“What is it?” I think the worst. Rae. She’s hurt, or sick, or…
I shove past her and stomp inside, looking all around.
Nothing is out of the ordinary.
There’s not a single item of Rae’s clothing on a table or chair.
My chest twinges. A warning.
I take the stairs two at a time to my room. The bed is empty, the sheets rumpled.
I pace down the hall to the room at the other end, bypassing every other door as if they don’t exist.
Hers is ajar, and that small crack of light fills me with trepidation.
I open the door, and my heart stops. There’re no messes, no clothes. No computer. No bottle of pills.
The closet is empty, save the dress and shoes I bought her to attend Christian’s party.
Impossible.
The woman I slept with last night. The one I sacrificed for, the one I denied the man who owns the club I want more than anything else in the world for…
She’s fucking gone.
* * *