Chapter 29 Erin
Erin
I wake up with a start and jerk out of Augusto’s arms. He stirs a little and tightens his hold on my arm.
It’s light outside. I check my watch and it’s seven a.m. already.
My skin is sticky from the hours of writhing beneath a heavy body.
Peeling myself from Augusto, I step into the shower and freshen up. As I lather myself in lychee scented foam from the onsite spa, I marvel at how luxurious skin can mask the dirtiest of souls.
And I’m not talking about my own.
When we first arrived at Winter Pines Lodge, I thought I wasn’t good enough.
I watched the women draped in designer clothing strut past me like New York Fashion Week was their second home.
I cowered secretly from the wait staff accustomed to and comfortable amongst East Coast high society.
I couldn’t imagine myself ever belonging.
But now I know how ridiculous that notion was.
Now I know what kind of seedy dealings take place behind the many closed doors, and the lies that slide so easily through the lips of the many women drawn here as alternative versions of themselves, I finally feel something I haven’t felt in a long time: I’m better than this. I’m worth more than this.
I don’t regret coming here though. If August hadn’t propositioned me, I wouldn’t have gotten as close to him as I have.
That being said, I was very close to tackling him to the ground in the storage unit and attempting to have my way after seeing those biceps move a piano the size of a small building, effortlessly.
I won’t be sad to leave this place, put it that way.
I’ve enjoyed the million thread count cotton sheets and the Michelin starred food, of course, but I haven’t enjoyed the lecherous looks from husbands who don’t care what their wives think, nor the undercurrent of shady negotiation that throbs around every corner like morse code.
A warmth softens me. As much as I wouldn’t ever want to come back here, I can’t hate this place.
It brought me and Augusto closer. It has taught me how to trust another man, way sooner than I thought possible.
The feelings I’ve developed for Augusto in the short time we’ve been at this retreat have made me wonder if what I had with Gerard was even real.
It’s also opened me up to the possibility that perhaps I was never meant to be the white picket fence, yoga pant-wearing housewife I’d molded myself into.
Maybe I’ve always had more depth, more darkness, more stuff that simply isn’t straightforward or at least straight out of a Martha Stewart commercial.
I step out of the shower and towel off, then, dressed in a fluffy Winter Pines bathrobe, I re-enter the suite and locate my phone.
Damn it. In the midst of the interrogations and investigations, I didn’t think to recharge it. Even stabbing a finger at the screen doesn’t help.
I connect the cable and watch it slowly plod back to life like a bear reluctantly waking from hibernation. Next time Paige implores me to upgrade my phone to one that was built within the last decade, I need to listen.
After a short lifetime, a series of notifications pop up—one after another, after another… Missed calls from Mallorie, a text message from Paige, a voicemail from my mother.
I go straight to Paige’s message.
“Mom, please don’t hate me. I just have to see him. I’ll call when I get there.”
Get where? Why would I hate her? And who’s ‘him’? Does she mean Killian? Where is she going? She’s only fourteen and she doesn’t know New York…
I try calling her but it goes straight to voicemail.
“Paige…” My heart is racing but I need to stay calm. “Can you call me please? Now? I’m worried. I don’t hate you—I could never hate you. Just please tell me what’s going on.”
I hang up and call Mom and to my surprise she answers straight away.
“Erin! I’ve been trying to get hold of you but it keeps going through to—”
“Mom, where’s Paige?” I rush out.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. She’s gone.”
I didn’t think it was possible for my entire world to explode inside my chest, but I was wrong. “Gone where?”
“Back to L.A. I told you in the voicemail.”
“What do you mean she’s gone back to L.A.? How? She doesn’t have a ticket, she doesn’t have money… She doesn’t even know how to get to the airport…”
“Gerard bought the airplane tickets and sent a cab.”
I swear my heart has actually stopped beating. “He what?”
“She talked to him, like you said. She mentioned what had happened with Killian and Gerard just told her to come back. I told her to wait until you were home and she said she would, but then… I went to check on her before I went to bed and she’d gone.”
“She left last night?”
“Yes. I called you straight away, but your phone—”
“Do you know which flight she’s on?”
“No. She left a note saying she was sorry and she’d see us both again soon, but nothing else. Mallorie’s been calling all the airlines but no one has a reservation under the name Gerard or Paige Applebaum.”
The room tilts.
“Mallorie? Is she there?”
“I’ll put her on.”
A second later, my best friend is on the phone recounting every airline she’s spoken to. “I think that’s all of them, Erin. Would he have chartered a jet?”
I blink. Gerard has never chartered a private plane to my knowledge, but he could certainly afford to. “I don’t know. Maybe. Oh God…”
“Listen,” Mallorie’s reassuring voice soothes its way into my ear.
“It’s not ideal that she’s going back to Gerard, but let’s look at the positives…
She’s only going for a short while, so she can see that idiot asshole boyfriend of hers.
She says in her note she’ll see you soon.
And Gerard’s her father. He isn’t going to put her in any danger. ”
My teeth gnash. “I didn’t think he would ever put me in danger, but he did, Mallorie. He hurt me.”
“What?”
“He beat me. That’s why I left.”
“Are you actually joking?”
“Mallorie, you know I wouldn’t joke about something like that. I moved back home to live with my mother. You knew it had to be serious.”
“Fuck, Erin. We need to talk about this properly, but right now, for the sake of your sanity, maybe try to trust that he wouldn’t hurt his daughter. And we’ll get her back, I promise.”
“I’m coming home,” I say immediately. “I’m leaving now.”
Behind me, the mattress shifts. Augusto sits up, alert instantly, all sleep burned away.
“What’s happened?”
I hang up and turn to him, my vision blurring. “Paige is gone. Gerard sent her money. She’s going back to L.A.”
The words sound unreal as I say them.
Augusto is out of bed in seconds, already reaching for his phone. “When did she leave?”
I throw open the closet door and pull out my bag. “The early hours of this morning. Gerard sent a cab to take her to the airport.
“Fuck.” His jaw tightens. “I’m coming with you.”
“No, Augusto. The deal… You have to stay here and finish it. I can get back to the city on my own. I’ll be fine.”
His voice dips to subterranean levels. “I know you’ll be fine, but you don’t have to do this alone. I want to help.”
I start throwing clothes into the bag. “The best way you can help is to stay and finish what you came here to do. The rest…” I glance up, “we can figure out later.”
“One of our men can be at JFK within the half hour to do a search. She may not have departed yet.”
Having yanked all the clothes from the closet I start on the dresser. I may as well just sweep my arm across the bottles and jars knocking them into a trash can for all the delicacy I apply.
“How will they know who to look for?” I sound out of breath.
“I’ll send them a picture,” he replies, holding the phone to his ear. Seconds later, he’s talking to someone called Arrow and issuing instructions to haul ass to JFK and to look out for a photograph coming his way.
I have an idea. “I can ask Mallorie to meet him there. She knows Paige and could talk a statue down from a ledge.”
I thrust my phone at him so he can take down her number.
After Augusto has fired off more messages he digs into my bag and pulls out some clothes.
“I just packed those,” I say, exasperated. “I need to leave. I need to find my daughter.”
He glances down once then says, calmly, “You’re not dressed.”
I follow his gaze to the white, fluffy Winter Pines bathrobe I’m still wearing and yank it off with a huff.
He emits a pained groan and turns away to pack his own bags.
“What are you doing?” I demand as I pull on the one pair of comfortable leggings I allowed myself to bring. “You’re staying here.”
“I’m preparing to leave, Erin. As soon as I have what I need, which is going to be today, I’ll be right behind you.”
My chest swells with gratitude for this man. He doesn’t have to do this—help me find my daughter—but he’s insistent.
I can’t imagine what Gerard would have done in a similar situation but I know for a fact he wouldn’t have stuck around. He’d have gone to work, like he always did. Nothing could ever compete with work.
I pause, my hands trembling, and a weak sob chokes its way out of my chest.
Augusto is in front of me in an instant, and his voice cuts through me.
“I will not let him take her from you, okay?” he says. “You’re not fighting this on your own. Not anymore.”
I hesitate, taking a lip between my teeth, biting back tears. Then I nod.
“The car will be here in ten.”
Augusto returns to packing while I pace the room, my body buzzing with helpless energy.
I replay every conversation I’ve ever had with Gerard, every manipulation, every subtle threat.
I should have known he’d go for Paige. I should have protected her better.
I should never have left her to do this job.
Time stretches painfully while my brain compresses to thinking only one thought: how am I going to get my daughter back? Once Gerard has her in his clutches, God knows what he’ll say to her. What he’ll make her believe.
My phone rings and my heart leaps.
It’s an unknown number but I answer anyway.
“Well, hello Erin…” Gerard’s voice slithers through the device, freezing me to stone. “I didn’t expect to be speaking to you again so soon.”
“Where is she?” I snap.
“We’ll get to Paige in just a moment, darling. Why don’t you tell me about your vacation? Are you enjoying the lodge?”
Every part of my body plummets by several degrees and I shiver. His voice sounds eerily calculated. I swallow hard before speaking again.
“How do you know where I am, Gerard?”
Augusto looks up sharply and our eyes lock.
“Paige told me, of course. You’ve got some kind of hospitality job at Winter Pines. It’s very enterprising. I’m proud of you.”
He sounds anything but proud. He sounds like he’s reveling in something. Like he’s about to end my life for daring to divorce him.
“Where is Paige?” I try to keep my tone level but everything is shaking—even my voice.
Augusto steps up to me, his gaze intense.
“She’s just arrived.”
“Where? At the house?”
“Not the house, Erin. My house. You left us, remember?”
I have a horrible, sinking feeling he isn’t going to put Paige on the phone, even though she’ll want to speak to me. He’s using her to afflict me with bruises inside and out.
“What do you want, Gerard?”
There’s a long pause.
But the thing about spending twenty-two years with a man who rarely does it, is you get to learn the sound of his smile.
“I want to speak to him.”
Gerard’s command slices through my ear like a blade.
My breath catches. “Wha—who?”
“Augusto Zanotti. Put him on.”
My heart drops into my stomach and I stare back at Augusto. My face must have drained entirely of blood and Augusto reads it like a well-thumbed tome.
“Put Zanotti on the phone,” Gerard repeats smoothly. “Now.”
Something dangerous flickers across August’s expression, then he takes the phone from my hand.
“Gerard,” he says evenly. “You have my attention.”
I stand rigid, my heart pounding, and a sick realization settling deep in my gut.
Gerard knows where I am.
He knows who Augusto is.
That means there’s a high probability he knows about the deal. He could end my relationship with Paige right now, and from the way Augusto’s jaw just hardened like a rock, I’d say he already has.