Chapter 15
Fifteen
THE CALLER
Maybe the worst idea I ever had was pretending I was dead and hiding from the living. But maybe it had also been the best one I have had so far.
I had heard where they were taking her, so I walked to one of the houses and knocked until someone answered. The man who opened the door looked at me for a long second, taking in the state I was in, then nodded before I even finished asking. He drove me to the hospital without asking questions.
When we stopped, I pulled my wallet from my pocket and pressed it into his hand.
“If anyone asks,” I said, “you found it on the beach. Near the accident.”
He hesitated, looking down at the money, then back at me.
“You’ll be rewarded,” I added.
When he nodded, I closed the car door and stepped into the hospital. Dasha was already at the reception desk, leaning forward, her hands gripping the edge as she spoke quickly to the nurse.
“Dasha,” I said, my voice catching as I reached her. “How is she?”
She turned to me.
“I don’t know anything yet,” she said. “I can’t reach the Grants either.”
I moved past her, brushing her gently aside, and faced the nurse.
“Aurelia Vale,” I said. “Do you have any information about her?”
The nurse barely looked up from her screen.
“Miss Vale is currently in surgery. We will let you know more soon.”
The thought of her being under a knife made my heart skip a beat.
I turned back to Dasha.
Her face was pale, stripped of color, and for the first time since I had known her, she wasn’t wearing any makeup.
“Don’t look at me that way,” she said, her Russian accent thicker than usual. “I was getting ready for bed when I got the call from my friend at the police station.”
“She will be okay,” I said, pulling her into my arms.
“Sir,” the nurse said, “you’re bleeding. We have to check that.” She pointed at my left hand with her pen.
I looked down. Blood had dried along my skin, and fresh drops still slipped from the cut. I hadn’t even felt it.
I nodded. “I’ll be right back,” I told Dasha.
Another nurse approached and guided me down the hall into one of the rooms to the side.
We stepped inside. The lights were dimmer here, but the smell was stronger. Beds lined the room, each one hidden behind a yellow curtain that stood in the middle between the beds. Shapes moved behind them, but the curtains hid their faces.
She led me to an empty bed. I sat down, my hand resting on my lap.
As the nurse began cleaning the wound, the sting came, but I sucked in a breath and said nothing.
From behind one of the curtains, there were two familiar voices I heard before.
“Are you sure she’s dead?” one of the men asked.
“I left her in the car to drown,” the other said.
One of them is Daniel Grant.
My fingers curled into fists. The nurse glanced up at me.
“Try to relax,” she said, steadying my hand as she started stitching.
I forced myself still and continued to listen.
“Did old Vale sign?” Daniel asked.
“Yes.”
My jaw clenched. The thread pulled through my skin, I turned my head to the nurse, scaring her with my gaze. The next stitch came more gently.
“I’ll pay off the doctor,” the other man said. “He’ll say he never saw you. Never admitted you. We will take the Vale house, all his assets, his money. We’re his business partners. With the insurance policy he signed, everything comes to us.”
“And what if she survives?” Daniel asked. “By some miracle?”
A short, humorless chuckle followed.
“Then we tell a different story. Say he was gambling it all away. That we had to clean up his debts.”
“Don’t worry, son,” the man added. “We’ll be the heroes in this. But until everything is settled, you have to stay as a missing person. We can’t draw any suspicion.”
“Okay,” Daniel said. “Where do I go now?”
“Go home,” his father said. “No one will look there. They all think the house is empty.”
I turned my head toward the nurse, angling my face away so William Grant wouldn’t recognize me. Footsteps passed close, then faded. From the corner of my eye, I caught Daniel rising, dragging one leg as he followed his father out.
“All done,” the nurse said, wrapping the bandage tight around my hand.
“Thanks,” I said through my teeth. “Do you know where I can find a phone?”
“There’s a payphone in the hallway,” she said. She slipped a coin from her pocket and held it out. “You might need this.”
A quiet laugh left me. “Thank you.”
I pushed off the bed and stepped into the hallway, my gaze moving left, then right. Every face felt like a threat, and I didn’t want anyone to see me here.
I noticed a payphone at the far end of the hallway, a woman already hurrying toward it.
I moved faster.
“Sorry,” I muttered, brushing past her, my shoulder knocking into hers as I reached it first.
I dropped the coin in and dialed Victor’s home number.
“Hello?” He answered, chewing loudly, lips smacking between words.
“It’s me,” I said.
“Who is me?” He asked, then smacked his lips again before breaking into a laugh. “I’m joking, Mr. Rosewood. I know it’s you.”
I exhaled slowly. “Not the time for jokes. I need you to go to the house. Take all the cash from the office and bring it to San Francisco General Hospital. Aurelia was in a car accident.”
The words scraped on the way out.
“I have to cover her hospital bills.”
“Okay. Okay,” he said, the humor gone from his voice.
“And we’re going to need to go to the house she shared with Daniel Grant,” I added. “We have to collect some trash.”
A brief pause.
“Understood,” Victor said.
I hung up before anything else could be said and stepped back, finally letting the woman take the phone.
She didn’t speak, but the way she lifted her chin, the sharp tilt of it, said enough.
I turned away, scanning the hallway until I spotted the nurse who had stitched me up.
I moved toward her quickly, and when I reached her, I asked who’s the doctor was assigned to Aurelia. I had to make sure she was okay.
Don’t worry, Kitten, I got you. You will be okay.
Present day, April 1993.
She steps out of the shower. Her wet red hair trails down her bare back as she walks toward the closet, not a single piece of clothing on her. She doesn’t notice me standing in the corner by the window. Watching her.
She moves closer, reaches inside, and pulls out a pair of black lace thongs. She slides them slowly up her long legs, then lifts them to her hips. When she turns, her body faces me fully, her curves impossible to ignore.
“Kitten,” I murmur, biting my lip, “don’t move.”
She flinches, a sharp breath leaving her as she spins around. Her hand grabs a white blouse from the closet and presses it against her chest, covering herself as her eyes search the room.
“Leave,” she says. Her gaze drops for a second as I step closer.
“No.” My eyes move over her, taking in every inch. “I came for what you promised me.”
“And that is?”
“Ten ways to kill me,” I say with a low chuckle, closing the distance between us.
“I’ve only written two,” she whispers, swallowing as her lips part. She lifts her hand, pointing toward the paper on the nightstand.
I don’t look at it.
I look at her mouth.
“I can give you ten of mine first,” I say, stepping in until there’s nowhere for her to go. I press her back against the closet, my hand sliding from her neck down to her breasts.
“If you even try,” she says, her voice steadier now, “I’ll strangle you with a telephone cord so you won’t be able to call anyone ever again.”
I laugh, pulling her closer. “You amuse me, Kitten.”
“Try me.” She leans in, her face inches from mine. I feel her breath brush against my lips.
I don’t hesitate. My mouth crashes into hers, stealing whatever words she was about to say.
My tongue slides against hers, searching, finding that same fresh mint taste I’ve been addicted to since the first time we kissed.
She doesn’t pull away. She melts into it, into me, like she’s been waiting too.
My hand finds her waist, drawing her closer until there’s no space left between us. I hold her there, like if I loosen my grip she might disappear. I’ve waited too long for this. Too fucking long.
I break the kiss just long enough to breathe, then I’m on her again. This time I lift her, her thighs wrapping around my hips as I carry her to bed.
She leans back, her eyes locked on mine. There’s something in them. Heat. Lust. Like she knows this crosses a line we can’t uncross.
“This is your chance to run, Kitten,” I say. “If you stay, I won’t stop at just a kiss.”
She doesn’t answer. Just watches me.
My gaze drifts from her eyes to her body, the way her breath betrays her.
I take a step back, giving her space. Giving her a choice.
One last one.
She stands, then moves toward me instead.
“What happens if I run?” She asks quietly.
“I won’t stop chasing you until I catch you.”
“So, I don’t have a choice either way?”
“Do you want one?”
She shakes her head.
My heart starts pounding harder.
I need her.
“What are you going to do, Kitten?”
Her fingers brush over her lips, still swollen from mine. “What are you going to do to me when you catch me?”
I pause, just for a second.
“I’m going to keep my promise.” My brow lifts, a slow smirk pulling at my lips.
I step closer, reaching up to move a damp strand of her hair from her neck, letting it fall behind her back. I lean in, my cheek brushing against hers, my voice low against her ear.
“And I’ll fuck you.”
She swallows.
I pull back, giving her space again, even though every part of me wants to close it.
“Do you want to run, Kitten?”
She takes a step back, then turns and moves toward the door, trying to run. Trying, because if I take two steps I could catch her. For someone who should be scared, she’s too slow. God forbids I blink; I might lose her.
I chuckle.
I hear her feet hitting the stairs. By the time I step out of the bedroom, she’s already halfway down. I go after her.
She picks up speed.
So do I.