Chapter Nine
L owen blinked her eyes open and immediately sat up.
The clock read midmorning, which completely shocked her because she rarely slept in.
Rising with a yawn, she went to empty her bladder and take a quick shower.
When she stepped from the steamy bathroom, she saw another bag on the dresser and opened it.
This time a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and boat shoes made of soft leather.
Evren had long since left so she casually made herself an omelet and coffee. The quiet of the penthouse soothed her with contentment. After breakfast, she cleaned up the kitchen, filled her coffee cup again, and headed to the windows. Looking over the city had become one of her favorite pastimes.
Little by little, each moment spent in freedom chiseled away the fear that had been her constant companion.
Her thoughts grew sharper, and she could breathe the clean air.
When the phone rang, it startled her and she glanced over at the archaic landline.
It rang over and over, then stopped. A moment later, it started up again and with it brought concern.
What if it was Evren trying to reach her?
What if he was trying to warn her that Scias was coming for her?
She walked over and picked up the handle.
“Hello?”
A pause, then, “Is Jeremiah there?”
“No. Who is this?”
“Evren’s been hurt and I’m trying to track down Jeremiah. I can’t find him.”
Suddenly, fear of a completely different source punched her in the gut. “What do you mean, he’s been hurt?”
“He was working in the delivery room and fell. If you see Jeremiah, tell him to come down here.”
The call disconnected. She stared at the receiver, as if it would give her more or different information.
Then panic rushed through her, so sharp nausea rose and tightened in her throat.
What should she do? She couldn’t stay and do nothing, not when Evren was hurt.
Rushing from the apartment, she headed to Jeremiah’s door and pounded on it.
Nothing. No one answered. She headed down the hallway to Saxon’s home and frantically pounded on the door.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she silently prayed to Saint Rita or whoever was listening to help Evren.
To protect him. The door abruptly opened and she stumbled a little since she was in the middle of knocking.
Saxon frowned at her and caught a teardrop off her cheek. “What’s wrong?”
“I-I got a call,” she stammered. “Evren ... he’s ... please, Saxon. He’s hurt.”
“Where?”
“The caller said the delivery room,” she cried. “They can’t find Jeremiah!”
He grabbed her hand. “Come on.”
They raced to the elevator, and Saxon had his cell phone glued to his ear. As their car raced to where the delivery room was located, he cursed under his breath.
“Goddamn it,” he muttered. “Call can’t go through.”
It was a tense few minutes as they finished their descent.
When the doors opened, she followed him as he rushed down to what was obviously a work area.
People in muted uniforms sorted all kinds of packages, deliveries, and various other things.
Work stopped when Saxon appeared, glancing frantically around.
“Where’s Evren?” he demanded.
People stared, obviously perplexed. He grabbed hold of his hair and tugged on it, and the manic look on his face let her know he was spiraling.
Taking hold of the situation, she grabbed his wrist and yanked it down.
He turned on her, fury turning his sapphire gaze into cutting bits of ice.
In a split-second, the boyishly charming man disappeared, replaced by a stone-cold killer.
He snarled at her, yanking his wrist free, and he advanced on her.
Lowen recoiled, flashes of Scias tore through her mind.
They catapulted into her old life, into her old self.
When she was nothing but a terrified, pathetic woman cowering under the covers.
Backing up slowly, like anyone confronting a rabid animal, there wasn’t any doubt this Saxon was the one she’d been warned about.
The cold man she’d met yesterday that sent a shiver down her spine.
The same, yet she realized he didn’t see her at all.
He stared into his past as his hatred raged against whatever evil had wreaked havoc on his soul.
She recognized the look because she’d seen the same desperation reflected too many times in her own mirror. Her heart ached for him, but she couldn’t offer absolution when she still battled her own demons.
“Saxon,” she said softly. Gently. Hoping to calm his monster. “Call Jeremiah. Evren might be hurt.”
He blinked, and the inflamed lividity slowly burned out. “Lowen?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I’m here. N-no one is going to hurt you.”
He swallowed and stepped back, placing a hand to his head. “What happened? Did I have an episode?”
“Yes, and you’re safe now, but Evren might need your help, so please call Jeremiah.”
With a shaky hand, he brought his cell up and dialed. When it connected, he placed it on speakerphone.
“Sax?”
Saxon stared at her, and a sea of conflicting emotions rolled through them like rippling waves. Lowen decided to help him.
“Jeremiah,” she said. “I got a call that Evren’s hurt, but we can’t find him.”
“What?”
Then a new voice came on.
“I’m not hurt,” Evren said, and relief poured through her so sharp it brought grateful tears to her eyes. “Where and who called?”
“It was on your casino phone,” she answered. “But I don’t know who it was.”
The only thing heard were the muffled words between Jeremiah and Evren.
“Sax, are you there?”
She glanced up at him, and a frown marred his forehead. “Yes.”
“Do you mind hanging with Lowen until I get home?”
He took a shuddering breath and addressed her. “Do you mind being with me?”
His tone made him sound like a little lost boy. This was not the killer from the moment before.
“Not at all,” she replied.
Even though she’d first thought he was the same as Scias, Lowen now realized he was nothing like her ex-husband.
Scias was cruel because it gave him pleasure, but Saxon’s pain drove him to protect himself.
All she felt now was sorrow for whatever horror lay behind his blackout need to protect himself at all costs.
Saxon’s face crumbled. “Thank you.”
“Evren, it was obviously a prank,” she said. “Sax and I will be fine. I’ll have dinner ready when you get home. Jeremiah, you’re welcome too.”
She disconnected the call and glanced around the room. “Show’s over.”
The workers immediately went back to work, acting like they saw and heard nothing.
“Come, Saxon. If you have polish, I’ll paint your toenails.”
A grin spread across his mouth and he nodded. Then he held out his hand to her and she took it.
****
T hat night, Jeremiah didn’t turn up for dinner, so it was just she, Evren, and Saxon, who kept staring at his bright red toenails.
In the back of her mind was the phone call, and she wondered if it had truly been a prank.
It didn’t feel right and she had a sick feeling someone had gone fishing for information.
Whatever it might or might not be, unease settled in the pit of her stomach.