Burned Deep (44 page)

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Authors: Calista Fox

BOOK: Burned Deep
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We were over.

As more tears burned my eyes, Kyle turned his attention to the TV to keep from wallowing in my agony, I surmised. Switching it on, he surfed while I nodded off again, fatigued from my injuries, crying, and explaining everything.

When I woke in the morning, Kyle was crashed out in the chair, the sound off on the TV, though he'd clearly been watching it while I slept.

I forced myself up and made pancakes and coffee. The scent roused him and he joined me at the table.

“So, what happens now?” he asked between bites.

“I'm not going back to the Lux.” I sighed. That was a painful thought unto itself. Thankfully, I'd earned enough income while I'd worked there to feel comfortable with my nest egg. I had plenty to live off of until I got my wedding business back on track. Especially now that Dane had put an end to my mother's attempt to extort money from me.

“What about Dane?” Kyle ventured.

“I'm not going back to him, either. I told you that.”

Sitting back in his chair, he eyed me curiously. “You can't stay holed up here forever, Ari.”

“I don't intend to, believe me. I'll get my bridal consulting going again. I just have to wait for my face to heal so I don't terrify anyone, looking like Frankenstein,” I tried to joke. He didn't see the humor. Nor did I.

“What can I do to help?” he asked.

“This is perfect,” I assured him. “You came at just the right time. It probably wouldn't have been a good idea for me to be alone much longer. I haven't even showered.”

“That's what that smell is.”

“Asshole.”

Finally, we laughed. And it felt damn good.

 

chapter 25

I eventually had to turn on my phone, so my dad wouldn't worry. As I scrolled through missed calls, the vast majority were from Dane. I deleted the log and all the voice-mail messages. Didn't bother reading the texts. Then I checked in with my father, telling him I'd lost my cell at the hotel and just found it. Big apologies.

“You'll come out to the driving range and have lunch on Sunday, right?” he asked.

That was still a few days away. I spared a glance at myself in the mirror hanging over the kitchen table. The bruises remained but had faded decently. The cut on my lip had healed. The one on my forehead had an angry look to it, so I kept antibiotic cream and a bandage over it. I could find some way to camouflage all of the wounds with makeup, sunglasses, and a visor, so I said, “Sure. Usual time?”

“Yes. And … bring Dane.” He said this hesitantly. I recognized the olive branch for what it was. And cringed. My dad was trying to reconcile and accept my choice in boyfriends. Not knowing I no longer had one.

I said, “How about I bring a friend, instead? I work with him at the hotel.” I wasn't ready to spring the news of my departure, nor did I want anything to appear too suspicious while I was still so wrecked … and physically wounded.

“Him?” That one word in my statement seemed to perk up my father.

“His name is Kyle Jenns. I don't know if he golfs, so this could be fun for him to get lessons from you.” I knew my dad liked doling out his professional opinion.

“Sounds great. Everything else okay?”

“Sure.” I swallowed hard, hoping I sounded normal. Because I sure as hell didn't feel normal. And wondered if I ever would.

“All right then. See you on Sunday.”

“Yeah.” I was about to disconnect but hastily added, “Hey, Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

He was quiet for a moment, then said, “I love you, too, Sweets.”

Tears pooled in my eyes. I hung up. And started crying all over again.

*   *   *

Sunday came and went, and Kyle played it cool so that my father didn't suspect any trouble in my world. As it turned out, Kyle never had golfed before, so it was an eventful morning, followed by a comfortable lunch, with him carrying the majority of the conversation, for which I was grateful.

The final week of October was spent on intensive last-minute preparations for my Halloween wedding. I'd had my doubts on how we'd pull off the theme, but it was gorgeous as a formal black-and-white affair, with fiery blood-orange and gold accents. The orange lilies used for the decorations and centerpieces were the deepest, most vibrant I'd ever seen, thanks to the extensive research I'd done with the florist I typically subcontracted. We'd looked high and low for a grower who would give us exactly what we wanted, and everyone had delivered all the way around.

On my recommendation, Grace tended bar in the private clubhouse. I enjoyed seeing her again.

I stayed for the dancing because it was healthier to my psyche than spending another night alone at my townhome. I chatted it up with some guests but didn't hit the dance floor, despite a few requests. It felt as though it'd be a betrayal to Dane so fresh in our split. And the fact that I refused to take or return any of his calls.

Unfortunately, the evening had to end at some point. My euphoria over the striking wedding and the deliriously happy couple dissipated as I drove home. I was exhausted from the hard work and running around but my mind wasn't quite ready to shut down. So I made out my check for the vendor booth at a huge bridal fair at the Civic Center in downtown Phoenix in January and updated my Web site with both the Delfino-Aldridge festivities and tonight's Halloween wedding.

I wasn't one to boast about things of this nature yet I decided it best to add the cover of
Southwest Weddings
magazine with my photo on it. I needed to leverage what I could in order to get back in the game. My only other event on the books was Shelby Hughes's wedding next summer.

As I considered that, I thought it a good idea to compose some snippets about event planning so that I could branch out in that arena as well. If I couldn't manage parties at the Lux, I could do it independently. Just not on the same scale. At the same magnitude. With the same grandeur. For Dane.

I definitely needed more work. Something to focus on other than him. And the rug that had been ripped from underneath me, as I'd predicted would happen all along.

Powering down my computer, I left that room and went into mine. I slipped into my Gretzky jersey, but that reminded me of the night on the phone when Dane had talked dirty to me and I'd had my first of many stellar orgasms because of him. I yanked off the jersey and returned it to its drawer, opting for a pair of yoga pants and a tank top instead.

The weather was mild and much more normal than the lengthy and violent monsoons we'd experienced this year. Yet I felt chilled to the bone as I crawled into bed.

My theory of not being touched so that I didn't miss it when instances of it were too few and far between turned out to be a valid one. I'd gotten used to Dane's touch, his heat, his essence surrounding me. I'd even relied on it in some respect, because it had become a part of me.
He
had become a part of me. Now there was nothing but loneliness. Emptiness. A bleak feeling.

Would I ever recover?

Did I even want to?

I pulled the comforter over my head. The very disturbing reality of the situation was that as long as I was devastated I'd keep the living, breathing reminder of what I'd once had. I'd be able to hold on to the beauty of Dane and the way he'd loved me. Fiercely, possessively. Sweetly, tenderly.

But there was so much crimson that seeped around the edges of that beauty. So much darkness.

The night Vale Hilliard had kidnapped me could have ended fatally for me, for Vale. For Dane and Amano. Anything could have happened. That continued to scare the shit out of me.

But I also continued to miss Dane. To crave his touch, burn for the intimacy we'd shared.

Throwing back the covers with a frustrated sigh, I climbed out of bed and went into the kitchen. If I were the type to believe in a soothing glass of warm milk, I might have gone that route. Instead, I dug my phone out of my tote and placed a call.

It was picked up on the first ring.

“I need a favor,” I said. “A ride, actually.”

*   *   *

“Are you all right?” It was the first thing Amano asked as I pulled open my front door.

“Not even close.” Why lie? He'd lived the nightmare with me.

Dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a white oxford with a tank top underneath it and wearing lip gloss and mascara, I knew that—other than the scar on my forehead—I didn't look as torn to pieces as I was. But I still felt it inside.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked.

We'd had a sparse conversation when I'd called. I'd asked the favor; he'd said he was on his way. That was all.

“I never got the gate code.”

“Right.” With a sharp nod, he turned. I followed him out, locking up behind me.

On the drive to Oak Creek Canyon, I asked, “How did you find me that night?”

“The guard at the gates called me to say the plate on Dane's car was from the wrong state—and that he'd flown out of there quicker than normal.”

So I'd been right about that. “I hope you gave him a raise.”

It wasn't Amano's style to crack a smile, so I didn't expect one. “Naturally,” was all he'd said.

I dug around a little deeper in my head. “How did you know where to find me?”

“We didn't. Except that on the drive back to the hotel Dane noticed tire marks veering onto a dirt road. Neither of us had seen them before. Someone took that turn ridiculously fast.”

“Indeed,” I muttered, recalling my scream as the car had shimmied and I'd feared it would roll. “What did you do about the car, by the way?”

“Had one of my guys locate the owner based on his plate number and return it in excellent condition, with a bit of extra cash for the delay in getting it back to him. He didn't seem to mind.”

Considering that
bit
of extra cash had likely been in the six-figure range, I didn't think he would mind.

“So Vale's brilliant plan to keep me hidden in that box canyon so close to the Lux, where I had no way of reaching you or Dane by cell, actually foiled his kidnapping attempt.”

Amano's jaw clenched. “I wouldn't say it was totally foiled.” He spared a glance my way. I winced.

“Point taken.”

I was tempted to ask how Dane had fared through all of this, but I'd already gotten the irritated zombie report from Kyle. And, really, it'd be too painful to hear it from Amano. I'd come to see the bond between them, which stemmed from three decades of camaraderie and Amano's devotion to Dane and his family. I wouldn't be surprised if there was an indirect father-son connection, given how close they'd always been. And Dane had no other paternal presence in his life, since he'd once told me his aunt Lara had never married.

I was suddenly compelled to ask, “How are
you
doing with all of this?”

He scoffed.

“No, really,” I said. “I want to know.”

For all his mammoth stature and stoic, borderline scary disposition, I'd long ago learned he was as loyal as a Labrador and as protective and territorial as Dane.

“I understand what upset you that night.”

My brow jerked up. That was putting it mildly but I supposed it helped him to do his job when he kept his own emotions on an even keel.

“Okay,” I ventured.

“You don't seem to realize that a man like Dane…” He pinned me with a look and said, “He'd die for you, Ari.”

My jaw fell slack. His gaze returned to the road.

The words rooted in my head. There were songs like that. By Prince, Bon Jovi, Bruno Mars, however many others. Romantic connotations, for sure. But not something
I
would ever expect to hear in real life.

I stared out the windshield, trying to process the full extent of what Amano said. It didn't change the fact that I'd been terrified that night with Vale. It didn't exonerate Dane from nearly killing him. It didn't make me any less fearful of what I'd become embroiled in.

The problem lay in the all-too-real inevitability that I would have preferred Dane never see me in the shape I'd been in. Bloody, near hysterical, in pain, horrified, weak. Beyond that, he'd heard me screaming—and he'd known what Vale had planned to do to me. Dane had heard me begging Vale to stop touching me. He'd seen me with my blouse ripped open and my panties mid-thigh.

And even though nothing beyond that had happened—I had not been raped or otherwise molested—he still had to live with the very striking reality of how far it had gone and how much worse it could have been.

The truth was, I figured it would have been a hell of a lot easier on him if I'd just disappeared. If he and Amano hadn't been able to find me. Instead, Dane had gotten the sucker punch of a lifetime, seeing me tied up and at another man's mercy.

Unable to stop myself, I looked over at Amano and asked, “How bad off is he?”

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Bad.”

Again, I suspected that was not at all the word he wanted to use.

I sat back in the seat. “Is he expecting us?”

“Yes.”

Loyal as a Labrador.

I wrung my hands in my lap as we drove the winding dirt path through the trees and arrived at the massive wrought-iron gate. My nerves were a jumbled mess. I wasn't sure what I was doing here. It'd been an impulsive decision because I hadn't been able to stand the solitude of my bed without Dane next to me.

I didn't know what I wanted the outcome of a confrontation to be. I wasn't even certain a confrontation was the sane way to go. I had some recognition of his current mind-set, given Kyle's and Amano's comments. But I had no idea how Dane felt about me at this moment.

“Perhaps you ought to stick around,” I said, anxiety closing in on me.

“He wouldn't appreciate that.” As Amano spoke, Dane pulled open one of the double doors and stepped onto the patio.

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