Body of Trust: A Romantic Suspense Novel Page 8

  “I thought Rocco was a friend.” My words are staggered.

  Jesse pulls me back to the club. “He’s playing both sides. Has been for some time.”

  We’re back inside, and Sienna is standing by the wall near the restroom.

  “Where the hell did you go?” she asks us. Her jaw drops at the sight of me. “What happened to you?”

  “She’ll explain later.” Jesse pulls the two of us through the club.

  One of Sienna’s bodyguards is standing nearby.

  Jesse doesn’t have a chance to hide himself as he turns to Sienna. “You and Amelia need to get home—and fast. Have your bodyguards bring you back.”

  She doesn’t argue and agrees to what he said.

  He whispers to me, “I’d take you home, but I need to clean up this mess.”

  I don’t understand. “You said you’d never leave me.”

  “I won’t.” He slides a matchbook into the palm of my hand. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  I nod and walk away from him. Sienna and I are escorted out of the club by one of her guards. Their car is outside the entrance, and in moments, we’re whisked away.

  “What happened in there?” she asks when we’re on the highway.

  The two bodyguards don’t budge, but I’m keenly aware that they listen to everything we say. I’m also glad she hasn’t brought up Jesse’s name. They saw Jesse and are probably wondering who he was. I don’t want them hearing me tell her how he pummeled a family associate to the ground.

  I think quick. “I don’t usually drink gin and tonics. It didn’t agree with me, and I got very sick.”

  Sienna pouts. “Your poor tummy.” Her voice and mannerisms say she’s worried, but her eyes lift up to mine, asking if I’m full of shit.

  I smile and give her a nod, letting her know that everything’s cool.

  When we get back, she passes out on my bed, still in her dress. I remove her shoes and put the blanket over her.

  I change and then look out the window. Sienna’s bodyguards are parked in the lot. Outside the lot, on the street near another building, is a white car. It shouldn’t seem out of place, but to me, it sticks out like a sore thumb.

  The driver’s door opens, and Jesse appears like a white knight on a dark evening, watching me from below. He’s looking up toward my window, and I sigh in relief, knowing he’s nearby.

  I glance down at the matchbook he slid into my hand tonight. I open the flap. Inside is seven numbers. His number. I want to call it, but I’m certain he gave this to me for emergencies only.

  I pray I won’t have to use it.

  Chapter Eight

  “You don’t look so great.” Eric slides a coffee onto my desk.

  I stare at the kind gesture in a white-and-green cup.

  I never went to bed last night, too frazzled, confused, and restless to sleep. As I lay in my bed, staring at the shadow of my blinds on the ceiling, I decided I was no longer taking risks with my life. Not that I’d ever really taken risks, but clubs were now out of the question.

  My fear became so real that I actually considered quitting my job. Around three in the morning, I was ready to go to my mother’s house and declare that I was never leaving her fortress again. I talked myself out of that real quick. At five a.m., I was driving myself mad and decided being home was the worst I could do.

  I think too much when I’m alone, and I need to get my normalcy back.

  Plus, I feel like I’m a sitting duck. If someone as close to my family as Rocco set out to hurt me, who else would try? If someone is after me, I can’t go home and endanger my family. If someone is after me, I can’t wait for them to come here and find me alone.

  All I can do now is be vigilant.

  So, here I am, at work, with security cameras and guards and staff everywhere I look. I even drove to work which made me feel somewhat in control. No one can harm me in my own vehicle.

  “Thanks,” I grumble as I take the cup.

  “For the coffee or for telling you that your eye circles show you haven’t slept?”

  If I had taken a sip, I would have spit it out from surprise at his blunt assessment. “The coffee. Do I really look that bad?”

  “You tell me.” He leans his khaki-covered hip against the doorway of my cubicle and grins.

  Shifting back in my seat, I sigh. “Family issues.”

  He nods with a knowing expression. “Say no more. We all have our fair share. Just don’t let it ruin your day.”

  “I’ll try.” At that notion, my cell phone rings. “It’s my mother,” I say in a way that says I need privacy for a moment.

  He holds his hands up and backs away with an apologetic smile.

  I pick up the phone. “Hi.”

  “What is this I hear, that you were out clubbing with Sienna?” she screams into the phone.

  I have to hold it away from my ear.

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “We needed a night to let loose. It’s been a crazy few days.”

  “Crazy? You don’t even know just how pazzo this can be! This isn’t a game, Amelia. Rocco is dead!”

  My stomach drops, and I think I’m going to be sick. “He’s dead?”

  “Your father called with the news. He was beaten to death!” she cries.

  My hand flies to my mouth in shock. I saw him last night at the club when he tried to abduct me. Jesse fought him off, but Rocco was alive when we left him in the alleyway.

  Wasn’t he?

  “Where … where was he found?” I dare to ask.

  “I don’t know all the details, but we’re going to get to the bottom of it. Beaten and bloody. His body was found in his car in some back alley. When we find that brutto figlio di puttana bastardo”—I can hear her pacing and panting as she calls the supposed killer an ugly son of a bitch bastard in Italian—“he’s going to wish he never touched Rocco.” She gasps. “He was a good man.”

  “No, he wasn’t,” I say quickly but instantly regret it.

  “What are you talking about? Amelia Grace, you do not speak ill of the dead that way.”

  I need to tell my mother how he forcibly tried to get me into his car last night, but then she’d want to know how I got away, and I’d implicate Jesse. If Rocco died at his hands, he’ll go to jail, I’m certain.

  I rub my forehead and take a deep breath. “He was following me. It took me a while to figure it out. He was always showing up right after I did. I even saw his car at the bus stop. He was watching me, Mom. I know it. Ask Dad if he was having Rocco tail me. I think …” I pause and wonder if my assumption is even worth repeating. I know what happened last night. Rocco wasn’t there with good intentions. I felt it in his force. “I think he was working two sides.”

  I’m jittery as I wait for my mother to respond. I can picture her playing with the medallion around her neck. It’s of the Blessed Mother.

  “That sounds ludicrous. Rocco was a trusted adviser.”

  “And Dad only does sanitation,” I say. I might not know a lot about what my father’s business dealings are, but I’m aware there’s more to the story than I’ve been told all these years.

  “Watch your words, Amelia.” Her tone is telling, and I instantly get the feeling that she’s telling me our call is being recorded.

  “Yeah, okay,” I say, wondering when my life became a bad movie plot. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, sweetheart. Stay alert.”

  “I will.”

  We hang up, and I lean back in my seat and close my eyes—the exact opposite of being alert.

  This week might be crazy, but I’m glad I’m in this office. The fluorescent lights and gray cubicles make me feel like I’m in the most boring place on earth. A welcome location when everything else is so … exciting—and not in a good way.

  My bag is sitting on my desk. I sit up and grab it, opening the zipper to get Jesse’s matchbook out. I need to call him and let him know Rocco is dead. It’s possible Rocco’s death is his doi
ng. If not, then someone else was there last night.

  I lift my phone to call him. Something holds me back. Could my phone be tapped too?

  Lack of control is not a strong suit of mine.

  My computer is sitting idle with the work I need to accomplish for the day. I log back in and get on task. If control is what I need, this is a sure way to seize some of it. This job is something I’ve worked hard for. My financial independence means a lot to me, as does a career I can feel proud of.

  I work until it’s time for the staff meeting. The select group of people who are on the Mega State Jackpot team file into DeLuca’s office. I take a spot in the back of the room, near the door, with my pad and pen in hand.

  The information given is very basic. The drawing to select the winning numbers will be conducted on Saturday at nine in the evening at the New York State Gaming Commission’s new studio, which was built for live drawings. We’re all expected to make the three-hour drive ourselves, and we will be reimbursed for expenses.

  My mother is having a hard enough time with me leaving the borough to go to work. I can’t imagine how she’ll react when she learns I’m going to travel upstate.

  This is good though. A distraction from the drama that is my life is needed. I’ll drive up, do my job, and come straight home. It’ll be fun. The police will be on hand for the drawing, so I’ll be safe too. I have to think positive or else I’ll go mad.

  I stay at work later than usual. My desk is clear, and I’ve worked myself tired. Not too tired to drive home, but I’ve expelled enough energy that I won’t care to do anything but take a bath and go to bed.

  My car is in a lot in the basement of my building. I take the elevator down and give my ticket to the attendant, pay, and then wait for my car to arrive. I find myself checking over my shoulder more times than I care to count.

  When my car is brought up, I tip the attendant, slide into my front seat, and put my car in drive, waiting until I’m blocks away and at a red light before adjusting my rearview mirror.

  When I check the mirror, I let out a scream.

  A man is sitting in the back seat. He has black hair, beady eyes, and a menacing stare. I grab the handle of my car door, but the steel barrel of a gun pressing against my temple makes me halt.

  “Calm down, and you won’t get hurt,” his deep, gravelly voice speaks loudly.

  I nod slightly. My throat is a shaking, quivering mess of fright. I couldn’t speak if I wanted to. I close my eyes and feel the tears falling down my cheeks.

  My phone is in my bag. I swallow hard and move my hand very slowly toward it.

  The gun clicks, and I flinch.

  “You don’t want to do that, sweetheart,” he says, and I still.

  My mouth turns down, and my breaths are shallow and erratic as my jaw trembles with fear. “What … what do you want?”

  His expression is blank. It’s jarring that he’s not masked or concealed in any way. If he doesn’t care about me seeing who he is, most likely, it means he doesn’t plan on me living to tell anyone.

  “I have a message for you. I’m only going to say it once. Are you ready to listen?”

  “Yes,” I stutter.

  “Good.” He pushes the gun into my temple, and it hurts, forcing me to scrunch my eyes closed. “Two hours before the lottery drawing, you’re going to ensure you’re one of the four people who are let into the machine room. Make sure they choose the third one from the right. They’re going to bring out two sets of rubber balls. One set is red, the other white. In your glove compartment is a pair of cloth gloves. You’re not to look at or touch them until you arrive at the building. You’re going to wear them when you load the white balls into the machine. Load every ball with your right hand, except for numbers seventeen, twenty-three, twenty-seven, forty-nine, fifty-three, and sixty-four. Those you’ll load with your left hand. You’ll remember them because each digit is the same as the last four numbers of yours, your mother’s, and your father’s cell phone numbers.”

  I do a mental tally of our phone numbers and understand what he means.

  “Do you understand me?” he asks.

  “Yes. But that seems almost impossible. I don’t know if I’ll even be able to get near the—”

  “Make it happen, or your family dies. I know your father is away, but mommy and sister are sitting pretty at home. Wouldn’t take too much trouble to end them.”

  My own life being in danger is nothing compared to them being in harm’s way.

  “Please don’t hurt them!” I wail out.

  “I will—and early if I hear that you’re running to the cops.” The gun rolls down my head and into the curve of my neck. I move away from it, but there’s nowhere to go. “Glad we were able to have this conversation, Amelia.”

  He puts the gun away and exits the car. His back is to me as he walks down a nearby subway staircase, disappearing. The light turns green, and I don’t move. Cars behind me honk, and I still can’t hit the gas. The honks continue to blare.

  Shakily, I take my phone out of my bag. I need to call someone, but who? I’m being watched, I’m sure, surveilled in every way. So many eyes are on me, but I’ve never felt more alone in my entire life.

  Chapter Nine

  I’m surprised I don’t crash my car on the ride home. My hands clutch the steering wheel to keep steady, both the car and myself. I look around the lot for the white car Jesse was in last night. It’s not here. I have trouble getting into the front door of my building because I’m shaking so badly.

  When I get to my apartment, I bolt the door and search the place, making sure there is no one inside.

  I bite my nails as I stare out the window, wondering who is watching, listening … waiting.

  “Amelia,” Jesse’s voice booms from the other side of the front door.

  I jump and rush to the steel frame, pushing my eye against the peephole to confirm it’s Jesse. He’s looking down the hall one way and then the other. Unbolting the lock, I open the door and let him in.

  “What happened to you?” he asks, his eyes wide with concern when he sees the state of me with my bloodshot eyes and frazzled, shaking body.

  “Where the hell were you?” I pace the room. “You followed me all day yesterday. You camped out outside my parents’ house and then my place. You say you’re never going to leave me, and the moment I need you, you’re not around!”

  He closes the distance between us, but I skirt away like a skittish cat.

  “I had a meeting.”

  “Enough of the lies, Jesse!”

  “Why don’t you start by telling me why you’re unhinged?”

  I form the shape of a gun with my hand and stare at it, vibrating in the air. “They found me. The Lugazzis or whoever it is that wants my father, they found me. This thug. This dark, sinister man. He … he was in my car when I got in it. He literally just appeared. There was a gun.” I push the spot on my head where the metal was pressed against it.

  Jesse’s brow rises, and his face grows stern. “What did he say?”

  “That’s your question? Not, What the hell was a man doing in your car? Or, Are you okay? Or, Did he hurt you?”

  He runs his fingers through his hair and grips the base of his neck. “Fuck. You’re right. I’m sorry. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  I fold my arms across my body. “I’m fine. Just scared shitless.”

  “Fuck!” he curses and bangs his fist against the door. “I knew I should have stayed with you. I followed you to your job but left when I got a call. I couldn’t get away.”

  “Away from what, Jesse?”

  He moves quickly toward me. “You have to trust—”

  “Trust you? I don’t even know you!”

  “Please, Amelia. I need you to talk to me. What did he say? The man in the car. What was his threat?”

  I consider my options. I was frantic to see him here at my home, and now, I have this punch in my gut. One moment, I think he’s my great protector, and the next
, he’s just as untrustworthy as everyone else. Twice, I fell for his heroism. Now, I’m back to feeling like there’s no one who can protect me.

  “I can’t tell you.” I take three steps back as my mouth goes dry, and I try to swallow the shaking nerves that are taking over me.

  “Why not?”

  “This was wrong.” My arms are up like protective shields. I’m hot and sweaty. The walls feel like they’re closing in. “I shouldn’t have let you in. Go home. You’re making it worse.”

  He closes the space between us. I gasp for breath as the panic sets in.

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  “You need to.”

  “Why?” he pleads.

  “Because he’ll kill them!” I shout before bursting into tears. My knees give out as I fall to the floor. Heaving sobs burst from my lungs as the anxiety and nervousness of the past few days hit me hard and come barreling out like the rapids of the Niagara Falls.

  I gasp for breaths as I fight the onslaught of emotions pouring out of me.

  Jesse is at my side in an instant, on his knees and wrapping his body around mine.

  “Please don’t cry. You sweet, wonderful, beautiful woman. You shouldn’t be going through this. You fight me at every step when all I want to do is keep you safe. I need you to believe me. We’re in this together.”

  Together. It sure felt like that when we escaped through the tunnels, and since then everything I’ve ever known has morphed into something sinister.

  I shake my head and back up, squirming away from him. “I’m scared, and I have no one to talk to.”

  He looks genuinely hurt by that statement. His eyes are red and glassy as he holds his hands up to his heart. “You have me,” he breathes.

  “Do I?” I whimper. “I need the truth. The whole truth and not what I’m allowed to hear or what you think I need to hear. If you’re truly with me, then I need you to prove it. If you want my trust, you have to give me yours as well. I need you to start by telling me why you weren’t there today, like you’d said you’d be.”