“For having sex?”
“For forcing you to have sex. For degrading you. For using you.”
“You’re not giving me any control over the situation.”
I know I’m being an asshole, but I can’t help the taunting tone. “I thought that’s what you like, isn’t it? Me taking the control from you? That turns you on.”
She looks away, and I feel about two feet tall. What a bastard. Maybe I should knock her around for a few hours. Maybe then I’d really feel like my old man.
“Look,” I say, keeping my voice even. “Liam may not have been right about what he saw in that orchard, but he was right about one thing. I’m not good for you.”
“You’re wrong. You’ve already saved my life more than once. And now look, you’re coming with me on a dangerous meeting so I don’t have to go alone.”
“Did it occur to you that I like the danger? That it’s my exit strategy?”
“Your exit strategy? What do you mean?” And then my meaning sinks in, and her eyes widen. “Don’t say that, Elijah North. Don’t you dare say that.”
I turn my focus back to the winding road, but it doesn’t matter. I can say it or not. The truth is I’ve always had a death wish. As long as I can remember, I’ve been waiting for the killing blow.
Pink stucco rises from the cliffs, and I know we’ve reached our destination. Satellite maps already confirmed that Taggart’s compound is large and well fortified. We’re basically walking into a lion’s den. We only walk out if they let us.
If it was only me, I wouldn’t give a shit. That death wish comes in handy.
But it’s not only me. Holly is here, and I need her to be safe like I need to breathe.
“Let me do the talking, okay?” I say as we pull up to a wrought iron gate.
It’s a sign of how nervous she is that she doesn’t immediately argue.
Men with semi-automatic weapons approach the car.
We’re escorted into the mansion, up the marble steps and through a set of double doors of carved wood. The mosaic on the entrance features a large black dog and the words cave canem, a nod to the same flooring at Pompeii.
Sure enough, the sound of barking greets us as we step into an open-air foyer.
I’m not particularly worried about the dogs. I assume they’re like the men holding semiautomatic weapons—they only attack on their master’s orders.
Two large black pit bulls round the corner, and Holly makes a sound of surprise.
Concern strikes my chest, because if Holly acts afraid, if she runs from the dogs, they might chase. Because I’m a bastard who wants her to suck my cock, I’ve never asked her the things I should know. What’s your favorite color? Are you allergic to any food?
Are you terrified of dogs?
I move to stand in front of her, but she brushes past me and gets on her knees. One of the dogs pauses, clearly taken aback by this show of trust. The other one wags its tail and runs up for a belly rub. The more cautious one follows behind, its bark more hesitant.
Okay, I guess she loves dogs. And she makes even snarling beasts into pets.
Ian Taggart enters the room and snaps his fingers, and the dogs immediately jump up and run to him. It makes me think he let them in on purpose to scare us. That worked, because my heart is still pumping double time out of fear for Holly. I thought she might get her throat torn out right in front of me. Instead she made kissy sounds.
She looks at the dogs with longing, clearly wanting to pet them more, but then she straightens. “Taggart. We have business to conclude.”
He smiles. “I was wondering if you would insist on coming.”
She pulls out a velvet pouch, and the two men with weapons start forward. Ian Taggart waves them back. He holds out his hand, and she places the diamonds in his hand. “It’s all there. More than she owes you. And in return you are to leave her alone.”
“As I told you, I’m not the only one she owes.”
“That will be my problem, not yours.”
“And it’s hardly going to matter if she’s still addicted to blow. There’s always another dealer ready to give her a supply on credit.”
“Again, that’s my problem.”
“You have a lot of problems.” He smiles. “I could solve a few of them for you.”
“Not interested.”
“Because you have a problem solver of your own,” Taggart says, nodding towards me.
“I’m not here to solve her problems,” I say. “She’s doing that by herself. I’m here to blow your brains out if you touch a hair on her head.”
“You have a reputation,” he says, unmoved by my threats. “If you’re looking for work…”
“I’m not.”
He gives a reluctant nod. “Then I agree to your terms.”
I take Holly by the hand in case she gets any cute ideas about petting the dogs again before we go. I really wouldn’t put it past her. “There’s just one more thing,” Taggart says, and I pause.
“Yes?”
“That Interpol agent. Who is he to you?”
He was my mentor at the beginning. Now we’re enemies. Rivals.
Because he became a traitor. Or was that me who betrayed him? Neither of us has pure intentions. Especially when it comes to Holly Frank.
“He’s no one,” I say before leading Holly out of the lion’s den.
“One more thing,” Taggart says, clearly amused. “You may have been worried about coming here, but you worried about the wrong thing. I like Holly. That’s why I didn’t bother turning her in for the bounty a certain lieutenant colonel has placed on her head.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
London
“I should have been there.”
Holly ignores me and continues chopping onions. Tears are dripping down her face, but she’s determined to help in the kitchen. I’m pretty sure Emina gave her this job on purpose.
“I’m serious,” I say, awash in both fear and gratitude. “You should have told me you were meeting Ian Taggart. And you should have taken me with you.”
“Does it matter?” she says. “Everything worked out.”
“How would you have felt if Elijah went and didn’t tell you?”
Guilt flashes through her dark eyes. “It’s not the same. You’re not well.”
That’s what she says about me. You’re not well. It’s what she says instead of saying, you want to blow cocaine until you’re so far out of your mind you’d fuck anyone, do anything. That’s what she says instead of saying, you’re a fuckup.
I grab an onion and start chopping. I have no idea how many onions we need, but if she’s going to help cook dinner, then so am I. I’ve always been like this, the follower, the copycat. People look at us and think it’s the other way around, but I’ve never understood why. She clearly has her shit together. She’s smart and calm and collected. I’m a mess.
“I’m healthy,” I say, my voice flat. “I’m just hooked on coke.”
“Addiction is a sickness.”
The onions are getting to me, too. Tears trickle down my cheeks. “Is it? Because it doesn’t feel like a sickness. It feels like a weakness.”