Dangerous Lovers (137 page)

I freaking loved him.

Like, no holds barred, give up donuts forever kind of love.

I hurried to finish my shower, partially bummed that he hadn’t come to join me, and shut off the water. I wanted to see him. I wanted to know if he would look any different to me now that I admitted to myself how in love with him I really was. Mostly I wanted to assure myself that he was still Olly, still the same guy I left in the kitchen making coffee.

Once dried, I quickly blow-dried my hair, leaving it straight because he didn’t pack my curling iron (he probably didn’t even know what that was). When it was straight like this, it was longer than it usually appeared and it hung past my chin, falling into a messy bob. When I left the bathroom and entered my room, I smiled because there was a pile of clean clothes lying across my bed. They were Olly’s. They were more casual than the other things I’d seen him wear—a pair of dark-gray Nike gym shorts and a white T-shirt with the Nike logo across the front. I picked up the shirt because it appeared well worn. It smelled like him. Like the expensive designer cologne he always wore.

I pulled on my bra, a tank top, another pair of lace panties and then stole his tee, sweeping it over my head. I wasn’t a small girl, but his shirt was still big. I didn’t bother with a pair of shorts and went off in search of Olly.

I looked in his room, his adjoining bathroom, and his office at the end of the hall. On the way downstairs, I looked in the family room, the library, and then finally wandered into the kitchen. The rich smell of coffee had me groaning.

“Want me to make some eggs?” I asked, expecting to see him at the table.

He wasn’t there.

“Olly?” I turned, looking toward the fridge and then wandered into the giant pantry.

He wasn’t anywhere.

I went the last place I thought he would be… downstairs in the ring. I smiled thinking of a repeat of this morning.

He wasn’t there either, but our clothes still were.

A feeling of dread enveloped me as I made my way back to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee. I staved it off as best as I could, but every second, every minute that passed without him bounding into the room to annoy me made the facts harder to ignore.

By the time my second cup of coffee was drained, the razorblades were back in my belly. He wasn’t here. He left. He literally made it impossible not to love him and then he did the one thing he said he wasn’t going to do: he let Olly run away.

Where he went I didn’t know.

All I knew was that he was gone.

Chapter Thirty-Five

“
Taunt - to reproach in a mocking, insulting, or contemptuous manner.”

Charming

I got all of an entire hour of living before I was reminded that I wasn’t allowed to live. That my life was over and technically it belonged to someone else.

Someone who just happened to be Death.

But I was done taking orders from him.

As soon as the coffee began brewing, I took the stairs two at a time, thinking I would slip into the shower with Frankie and have a little fun…

But I never made it that far.

I got close. Close enough that I was able to toss some clothes onto her bed.

But then I was yanked right out of my body. It dropped onto the thick carpeting like a stone and I was left—nothing but a red cloud—hovering above it.

“The state of your undress and the fact there is a woman in the shower makes me think you have other priorities besides your job,” said an all too familiar voice from behind.

How in the hell did he find this place? The one place I thought I was actually free of him.

I turned. “I don’t really think you care about me completing this job.”

“You don’t think I care about thirty million dollars?”

“I think you knew from the very beginning… The only reason you chose the
senator’s daughter
as a Target was because the only thing you cared about was seeing me fail.”

He smiled. “That’s right. I knew you would fail. Just like I knew you were here. Did you think I didn’t know about this house? Where you spend your time off? You should know by now that I know everything.”

“You don’t know where your secret bodies are.”

That wiped every ounce of smugness right off his boney old face. I resisted the urge to look toward the bathroom, not wanting to show that I was worried for Frankie. If she came out here…

No.
I wasn’t going to let her get caught up in this. It was the reason I brought her here in the first place. Yes, I wanted to keep an eye on her, but not for the reasons she thought. I wanted to make sure she was safe from him.

“And what bodies would that be?” he asked like he was bored, but I saw the flicker in his eye… the fear.

“The ones you keep hidden. The ones you didn’t want anyone to know about,” I said casually.

“What do you know about those?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing into barely there slits.

“I know where they are. But otherwise, not as much as I want to. Unfortunately, the soul you have wandering around your house wouldn’t tell me a thing.”

“You little—” He snarled, lunging at me, but his hands went right through, making the red puff out around him.

“Bodily harm requires a body,” I taunted.

And just like that I was back in my body and being dragged up from the floor. “You better hope those bodies are where they’re supposed to be,” he said, jutting his face up close to mine.

The water to the shower shut off.

“Better go see,” I said, injecting a dare behind my words. There was a huge chunk of ice in my gut.
Get him the hell out of here!
the voice inside me was screaming. I looked at the bathroom door.
Stay in there.

With a wave of his hand, a doorway appeared right beside the bed. The Reaper started forward, grabbing me and pulling me along with him. I didn’t put up a fight. I wanted him out of here and as far away from Frankie as he could be. And it seemed the fastest way for that to happen was for me to go with him.

And so I went, the door he created snapping shut behind us like it hadn’t been there at all.

Chapter Thirty-Six

“
Therapy - the treatment of physical, mental, or social disorders or disease.”

Frankie

I drove his Ferrari to the airport and left it in the long-term parking lot. If it got stolen or damaged, it was his fault for being a wimp and disappearing on me like that.

I mean, really. Did he not know me well enough by now to know I wouldn’t have dissolved in a puddle of simpering tears if he told me he only said those things because he was high on sex? Or maybe he was just trying to keep his precious face intact because he
did
know me and he knew I would have rearranged it.

At the ticket counter, I maxed out my credit card buying a flight back to Alaska and sat there at the gate, praying I wouldn’t get sandwiched between someone who liked to talk and someone that smelled like bacon and sweat. Never mind that my eyes kept straying to the crowd and I hoped to see him pushing through, trying to stop me from leaving.

This wasn’t some movie like
Pretty Woman
where the rich guy comes riding up in his limo with roses and begs the girl to take him back after he acted like an idiot.

After all, Charming hadn’t
acted
like an idiot. He
was
an idiot.

And I certainly wasn’t going to forgive him.

The flight was endless and far less comfortable than the private jet we took to get to Scotland. I kept praying that I wouldn’t have a panic attack from all the turbulence I felt sitting on the very last seat on the plane. I knew if I started barfing I wouldn’t stop and it would all likely be blood because those razorblade wings were back and they were making mincemeat out of my belly.

When we finally landed, I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and powered it on. I wasn’t looking to see if he called. I knew he hadn’t. It didn’t stop my heart from plummeting when the only missed calls were from Piper.

Piper. That was a whole other huge mistake. I had four missed calls and four texts from her. We’d barely talked in weeks. I was not only stupid for giving away my heart to the wrong man, but I also ruined a friendship while doing it.

I sent her a quick text:
Just getting back into town. We’ll talk soon
.
And then I threw my phone back into the bottom of my bag.

I took a cab home, spending the last of my cash, and trudged up to my apartment. I dumped my bag on the floor and fell face first into the couch.

That’s when I started crying.

Whoever said “big girls don’t cry” never got their heart broken. It hurt. A lot. I wished I could just eat a box on donuts, go shopping and watch a bunch of movies where guys got the shaft and get over him, but I couldn’t do that. I was too busy wondering where he was. If he was okay and if he knew I left.

I turned my head and caught a familiar scent that made me ache all over again. I looked down. I was still wearing his T-shirt. I forgot to take it off.

I should’ve taken it off and lit it on fire. I should’ve run into the kitchen and stick it in the garbage disposal.

I pulled it closer around me.

I was pathetic.

I looked at the posters of Marilyn. She understood heartbreak. She knew how shitty men were.

There was a knock at my door.

“Go away!” I groaned.

The knocking grew louder.

“I said go away!” I yelled.

“I will not go away!” Piper yelled through the wood. “I’m not leaving until you open this door!”

I dragged my pathetic self off the couch and opened the door, then went back to the sofa and did another faceplant. I heard the door shut, but I didn’t bother to see if she took one look at me and hightailed it to safety.

“What happened to you?” she said, coming to stand beside the sofa.

I pushed myself up and swiped the hair out of my face to look at her. Her eyes widened when she looked at me. “Have you been crying?”

I sniffled.

She sighed. “You didn’t stay away from him, did you?”

I shook my head.

She sighed again.

“You fell in love with him.”

I groaned and fell sideways. “I’m so stupid!”

She sat down on the edge, where I wasn’t completely taking up all the space, and patted my back. “Not stupid. I know how easy it is to fall in love with someone like him.”

I blinked back the tears in my eyes. “I didn’t know Dex, but I do know that he wasn’t like Olly.”

“Who?”

“Charming,” I corrected and ignored her look of curiosity.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does.”

“I thought you would hate me. I was so scared to tell you about him.”

“I could never hate you. But you shouldn’t have been scared to tell me. I thought we were best friends. Friends tell each other stuff. Even the hard stuff.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said, my voice hoarse. I wanted to cry all over again. “But you told me to stay away from him. I promised.”

She half-smiled. “That was selfish of me to make you promise. I knew by the look in your eye that day it was too late.”

“What?” I said, incredulous. “I hated him back then. I never hated someone so much.”

“There’s a thin line between love and hate, Frank.”

She was right. Aside from the fact he was completely horrible, I think part of me knew he had the capability of hurting me this way. That he
would
hurt me this way. I hated him for that too.

“He tried to kill you. How could I fall for someone like that?”

“Dex tried to kill me more than once. I loved him anyway. I still love him.”

“We need therapy,” I said.

She laughed. “Yeah, we really do.”

“Maybe we should start a support group for women who love killers. Just think of all the women who love inmates across America…”

We both laughed.

“I’m really sorry,” I confessed after our laughter died away.

“Aww, Frank, it’s okay. I understand. But don’t ever cut me off like that again. We’re family. Even if I think you’re being an idiot, I’ll still love you.”

“So you do think I’m an idiot,” I said, trying not to get all emotional over her understanding.

“What happened?” she asked.