TWENTY-SEVEN - Rosalie
TWENTY-SEVEN
Rosalie
A fter lunch, I finish drafting two contracts for one of my local clients that works exclusively in brokering the sale of new pharmaceuticals.
The business is extremely lucrative, and I m grateful to have it on my roster.
I m enjoying my mix of transactional law and litigation.
Still, it s a surprise the firm assigned me Alexei s case since I practice civil litigation and not criminal.
But I do have a good track record, so perhaps it makes some sense.
Finally, after a dinner of a granola bar I filch from the kitchen, I sit back in my chair and roll my neck.
I invited both Alana and Ella to have drinks tonight, but Alana is apparently out of town with Thorn on a tropical few days together, and Ella hasn t returned my voice message. When she s involved in a project, she often goes quiet for a short while, but not this long.
I call her again, and she doesn t answer.
An inkling of worry filters through me, but I reach under my desk and pull out the box of discs from Alexei s case. I ve only gone through about half of them, and they re all from the Amethyst Pony and different nights where he and his buddy Garik goofed off and played their music.
I wonder idly if Alexei still plays. He seems to have lost that part of himself, and it s too bad because it s quite charming. The enjoyment when he s playing and singing is obvious, and I hope that sense of fun is not gone forever.
I wipe my hand over my eyes. I can t believe the things he said in the shower earlier. I believe him, and I don t know that that s the future I want. But I can t deny that I m definitely falling, and falling fast.
Merlin s offer of getting me out of town also surprised the heck out of me. Fleeing is never the answer, as far as I m concerned.
I stick in another disc and watch as Alexei and Garik perform at the former Amethyst Pony.
I make notes of who I can see in the video and compare them to the people in the other videos.
There are several women who are often around them, and I wonder if any of them would kill to protect Alexei.
I ve watched enough of the CDs that I ve been able to write down names of several of his groupies.
Maybe Ella can conduct background checks for me. Now that Alexei can pay, I ll make sure that she is rewarded for that, if I can find her. I glance again at my silent phone. It s so odd that she hasn t at least called me back once.
I finish the current disc, pull out another one to insert, and hit play. A darkened bedroom comes into view. I sit back. This is new. Then I watch as Blythe Fairfax saunters into the room wearing a bright-red teddy that barely covers anything. My gut cramps. I really don t want to watch this.
Alexei walks in from what appears to be an expansive bathroom. He s wearing black silk boxers, and I lean forward. Silk? He just doesn t seem like a silk guy. He s younger, definitely by seven years, and he lacks several tattoos and scars. It s odd to see his neck bare without the prowling panther.
His smile is wicked. I reach for my notepad and my pencil just in case they say something of value. That s why I m going to watch this. At least, that s what I tell myself. Then Alexei moves toward her like the prowling panther that isn t on his skin yet.
She feints a move toward the door, and he s on her, tossing her to the bed. He lands on her, ripping off the teddy, and then he s kissing her. Mouth, neck, breasts.
No biting.
Why the heck does that go through my head? I try to keep from throwing up as they have sex. Twice.
Watching his body move against hers, into hers, has a dark rock settle in my stomach. I shouldn t care. This happened before we even met, and it s not like we re married. He s neither gentle nor rough with her, but they both get off. Twice.
Relief takes me when it s over, and I look with trepidation at the remaining discs.
I can t believe this. I feel sick to my stomach.
I call Ella, and she doesn t answer. Muttering, I shake my head.
What is wrong with her? I leave her another message.
Hey, Ella. Call me back. I m getting worried.
I click off, and then I note I have a text.
Relief begins to fill me as I press the buttons for text, and then my heart sinks as I see it s not from Ella, but from Alana. I click it.
ALANA: Hey, hon. Thorn squired me away for a few days in Mexico. We re having a great time. You and Ella can join if you want. Let me know, because then I ll tell Thorn.
I m sure Thorn wants to keep Alana to himself for their little getaway.
ME: Thanks, but I m in the middle of several cases. Have fun and don t marry him until we can all be there.
Smiling, I click off. Maybe I should try to text Ella.
I press her name and look down. Wait a minute. Her last text says that she ll meet me at Bernie s Coffee House. What? I scroll up to see a text sent from me to her, telling her to meet me. What the hell? I didn t do that.
I look at the time. It was very early that morning.
When I was showering? Or when Alexei had come in?
Betrayal slices through me faster than any sharpened blade.
He texted Ella? Panic then grabs me by the throat.
Why would he do that? No wonder she hasn t texted me back.
I call him and reach his voicemail. I want to yell, but I click off.
A text instantly arrives from him.
ALEXEI: I m in the middle of a meeting at the bar. I ll call you after.
The heck he will. I jump up and hurry out of my office. It s after six, so most of the place is closed. I m not surprised to find Garik once again in the waiting area.
I thought you were supposed to wait downstairs, I say, furious.
He looks up from reading a bridal magazine. My eyebrows lift. He shrugs. It s the only one I haven t read in here. Alexei wants me closer to you than downstairs. This is where I ll be. You re lucky I m not in your office.
I m so angry, I can barely breathe. I want to go to the Amethyst right now. I stomp toward the elevator and jab the down button.
Garik reaches me. Alexei s in the middle of a meeting.
I am well aware of that fact. I barrel inside the elevator. Take me to him now, or I ll go there myself.
Garik studies my heated face. His phone is off or I d call him. I have a feeling you re about to make a big mistake.
I growl as the doors close. No. Alexei is the one who made the mistake.
We make it to the car, and Garik drives silently through the city.
I ve never in my entire life been this furious.
Garik pulls up in front of the Amethyst bar and leaps out to open my door. Rosalie, everyone is still inside. He nods toward lines of vehicles on both sides of the street. Trust me and don t go in there. One of his large hands lands on my arm
I shrug him off and hustle toward the door, yanking it open. You asshole, I nearly shriek, stalking through a suddenly quiet room of men toward Alexei, who stands near the bar.
He pauses in saying something and looks at me, his black eyes glittering.
Pain and terror rip through me. Ella is every bit as close to me as a sister. In fact, she is my sister. And I know he took her. I keep moving, becoming aware of the tension choking the atmosphere.
Men, at least twenty of them, are seated throughout, at tables, all dangerous and all watching me.
My stride hitches but I keep moving. Perhaps this is a bad idea.
I falter.
Alexei s arm snakes out, and he hauls me to his side, his heated arm unrelenting around my waist. Men, this is Rosalie Mooncrest. His voice holds no warmth.
No familiarity. If you ll excuse me for a moment, I apparently have something to handle.
He nods at a fifty-something man in light-gray suit near the pool tables.
Sergio, finish cataloging all of our assets.
Then he turns and squires me beyond the bar and into a small storage room holding shelves and shelves of alcohol. The door shuts firmly behind us.
I push free of him and back away until I hit the far wall. I am so going to kill you, I hiss, trying not to cry. Has he hurt her? Would he?
He s wearing a high-end black suit with a crisp white shirt along with shiny black shoes with matching belt. Do you like being alive, Rosalie? he asks silkily, his hands going to unbuckle the belt.
My mouth goes dry. Are you threatening me?
Answer the question. He releases the buckle and pulls his belt free.
Um, yes. I like breathing, I gasp, my stomach flipping inside out, my gaze locked on that belt.
He folds it in two and stalks toward me. Those men in there? The ones you just disrespected me in front of?
Oh, fuck. I look for an exit, and the only one is right behind him. Um, I—
He continues as if I haven t spoken, looking larger than life. Every one of them has probably killed at least one person, and some quite a few more than that. And you know what s keeping me alive? You alive?
I gulp and shake my head.
Respect with a healthy dose of fear. Of me and what I can do. What I will do. He reaches me and gently runs the leather down the side of my face.
I flinch. I m sorry. My legs tremble so much, I m afraid they ll let me fall. Then I remember why I m here. Ella. My head snaps up. You took her.
Yes.
I can t breathe. Did you hurt her?
No.
I search his face but can t read him. Can t see the truth in his eyes.
I wouldn t hurt somebody you love, Rosalie, he murmurs. I need her expertise for now, and she s safer where I put her than she was on the streets yesterday. Trust me.
The truth rings in his tone. Relief makes me dizzy. I want to see her.
At the moment, your wants are irrelevant to me. He places the belt on an old beer barrel at the end of the shelves, and more relief than I can interpret runs through me. He grasps my hips and lifts me, his mouth taking mine.
Hard.