CHAPTER NINE
Kate hummed as she stirred the pasta sauce.
The nightmare of the previous evening seemed like a world away.
Her day had been busy, and now, she was with Benedetto. Or she would be soon. Her eyes lifted to the clock on the microwave. He had said he’d be back after seven, and that was only a few minutes away.
Her skin dusted with goose bumps.
The anticipation in itself was delightful. How she craved him! How she longed to wrap her arms around him and feel his warmth. To see his eyes smile at her, to see his body respond to hers.
The smile was etched on her features as she added a dash of pepper and then turned the heat off. The water was boiling, ready for pasta to be added, but she wouldn’t do that until they were ready to eat. She put a lid on the saucepan and turned it to a low simmer.
Kate hadn’t heard the door bell before; it rang through the mansion with a rather imperious, electronic insistence.
Her eyes lifted to the microwave once more.
Who would be calling at this hour? And should she answer it?
It was unlikely to be a delivery. Perhaps someone door knocking for a charity?
She really had no place, and yet the door buzzed again and on instinct she moved through the downstairs, towards the enormous timber entrance.
She pulled it inwards without pausing to wonder if she was being foolish.
And stared at the past, as though her nightmare had conjured it into reality.
Had she done just that? Was he a figment of her imagination?
No.
He smelled the same and it set off a visceral reaction in her gut. Fear, so real it transformed her body into an instrument of pure sensation, sledged down her spine.
“Dad.” She swallowed. How long since she’d seen him? Since she’d said his name? What was he doing there? How did he know where she was? A frown drew her eyes closer. Or did he know Benedetto? Was this some horrifying coincidence? Was he here to see the man she’d fallen in love with?
“Katherine,” he snapped, pushing past her and into Benedetto’s home. “So, it’s true.”
“What’s true?”
“What the hell did you hope to achieve with this?” He spun around, and he was so close to her that she flinched. The reaction mortified her. Damn it, she’d grown up since she’d last seen him. She would not let him cower her.
“With what?” Her voice shook. She was terrified, regardless of what she wished to feel.
“You’re sleeping with this bastard. Did you know he was using you? Are you using him? Did you think this was a way to hurt me more than you already have?”
Her mind was reeling. Nothing made sense. “What … I don’t know why you’re here …”
Augustine stared at her for a long, silent minute, and then he grabbed her wrist. A scream died in her mouth. She had learned not to scream, for it only made it worse. She bit into the sides of her tongue, and stared at him with silent, catatonic panic.
“This.” He hissed. Whisky was putrid on his fat tongue. He held the phone before her eyes but it took a moment for her vision to focus. Fear was making everything watery.
Your daughter is lovely. And then, the photograph of her that Benedetto had taken.
It was as though she’d been smacked in the solar plexus.
She tried to pull her hand free; she couldn’t bear to be touched by him.
But he was still so terrifyingly strong.
She remembered the way his fingers had been able to press into her neck and stop her from breathing.
So easily, as though he was kneading dough.
“This is a mistake,” she said haltingly, her body so flooded by terror that she felt like she might collapse to the ground at any moment.
“You bet your arse it is. I did not raise you for this. My God, Katherine, you disappeared for four years and now I find you’re living with this asshole? What the hell?”
“I’m not living with him,” she said softly. Her wrist was hurting, but she tried not to let him see that. Another lesson she’d learned over time – he enjoyed seeing her flinch. He liked wounding her. That was part of the control for him.
“You got that right. We’re leaving.”
The surge of certainty was powerful. If she left with him, she’d never be safe again. She’d escaped once. She couldn’t go back to a life in his orbit. But how could she break the lifetime habit she had of submitting to him? Of choosing the path least likely to inflame?
Benedetto.
He’d be home soon.
Whatever else he’d done, she knew he would never let Augustine hurt her. Nor would he let Augustine take her against her will.
“I need to grab a few things,” she said, playing for time.
But Augustine was smart. Too smart. He reached up and wrapped his fingers in her hair, close to her scalp, then pulled hard. It jerked her neck back. “Get out of his house, now. I will not let him have you.”
Kate sobbed. The pain was blinding. “Please don’t,” she said softly.
“He’s using you. Do you know that? He’s using you because he’s obsessed with punishing me. And you’re letting him. You’re a dumb bitch, Katherine, but I didn’t know you were so completely stupid.”
“Don’t,” she tried pull her head up but he yanked on it again.
“What the hell is going on here?” Benedetto’s voice came to her as if carried by the wings of angels.
Tears were running down her cheeks. She knew that one way or another she would be saved from Augustine, and that was all she could think of.
Beyond that, she would simply cope with things one step at a time.
“I’m only going to say this once: Get your hands off her.”
The silence sparked with caustic rage; it was beyond anything Kate could understand.
But Augustine released her, and when she stood, blinking and rubbing the back of her hair to ease the throbbing pain, she could see why.
The man she feared with all her heart was no match to the man she’d believed she loved with all her heart.
Physically, they were chalk and cheese. Benedetto could slay Augustine with a single punch, she had no doubt.
Benedetto stared at Kate, but he didn’t touch her.
He had no right. And she was glad. She couldn’t bear to be with either of them. As soon as Augustine was gone, and the coast was clear, she too would leave.
Her heart, so used to being broken and betrayed, switched off from feeling. She wouldn’t process the hurt now.
Survival mattered more.
“You had no right to do this,” Augustine spoke with cold fury.
“Do you think not?”
Kate braced herself against the wall behind her. Her wrist was throbbing.
“She’s nothing to you. Nothing to do with you and me. She is just my daughter.”
“And he was my father,” Benedetto responded with cold fury. “It is done now.” His eyes flashed to Kate. Guilt almost felled him.
“So what? You think this is revenge? You sleep with her and send me a photo? That’s pathetic and it won’t bring him back. Nothing will.” Augustine’s sneer was vile and at another time, Benedetto might have given into the desire to punch it from his face.
But violence did not come naturally to him.
Instead, he moved his body to stand between Augustine and Kate. “Get out of my house.”
“Not without Katherine.”
“She’s Kate now, and she’s staying here.”
“Like hell …”
“Listen, old man. You need to leave before I do something I’ll regret.”
Augustine flexed his fist by his side and Benedetto hoped he would raise it. Then, and only then, might he return the gesture.
“This is not over,” Augustine promised, sending Kate a warning look before stepping out of the house. He slammed the door behind himself and Kate jumped.
The silence hung in the hallway like a thick blanket. As if in slow-motion, Benedetto turned to look at her.
He didn’t recognize the woman. She was terrified.
She was shaking. She was either about to pass out or vomit; possibly both.
“God, Kate,” he instinctively knew not to touch her.
“Come and sit down.” He nodded to the lounge.
She shook her head and sunk down to the floor, keeping her back pressed against the wall.
The tiled floor was cold under her bottom; she didn’t notice.
He crouched down opposite her, still not touching her, just looking. Staring. Wondering. Not daring to hope. The silence continued to stretch between them like elastic
“How do you know him?”
His Adam’s Apple bobbed in his chest. She looked back at the floor. Her head was stinging with the kind of pain that she knew would stick around for days.
“My father …”
“I don’t want to talk about your father right now,” she cut across him.
“He’s the reason I know your father,” he promised heavily.
“My father was a wonderful man. There is nothing I wouldn’t have done for him.
” He grimaced. “But there was a time, in his youth, when he was caught up with the wrong crowd.” He grimaced.
“That is not completely accurate. My father was … a long time ago …”
“God, Benedetto,” she snapped, her body still quivering like a feather in a storm. “Get it out.”
He winced. “He was a runner for the mob. Just a small-time part. He took money and delivered it. Nothing impressive. He was just a kid who got caught up in the glamour and wealth.”
“So?” She rubbed her temples.
“He got out when he met my mother. He went underground. He chose a life that was good and pure. He chose a life that he could be proud of.”
She didn’t react. She couldn’t.
“But you don’t leave those guys. You can’t. Eventually, they caught up with him.”
“This is nothing to do with me. Nothing to do with … him.”
“It is, Kate.”
She shivered at his use of her name. “Don’t.”
Don’t what? Don’t address her? Don’t speak to her?
“You sent him that picture of me.” Bile flavoured her lips.
Benedetto was too proud a man to deny it. Besides, what would be the point. “Si.”
She flinched. “Why?”
His voice was gravelly. “Your father is a terrible man.” And now, his fingers tingled with a burning ache to touch her. “He is the worst of humanity. I hate him, Kate. I hate him in a way that terrifies me, for what I could do to him.”