Ending with Forever (19 page)

“I hate saying good-bye. I did it once and it scarred me for a long time,” he reveals. He’s talking about Emily. I can see the hurt on his face. If only I can erase that tormenting memory from his mind.

“I hate saying good-bye, too. Let’s never use that awful G-word.” I smile.

“Deal.” His mouth broadens widely with his dimple sunken in.

“Carson…” I stall.

“Yes…”

“It’s just Luke and me today, correct?”

His eyes contemplate briefly before he answers, “Correct,” and then runs his index finger along the patterned vines of the new bracelet on my wrist. “Remember your promise to me,” he reminds. I nod in response. Leaning into my lips, he kisses them gently and tells me, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

F
or today’s critical mission, I pulled all the bodyguards and sent them with Alpha’s team. I figure safety in numbers. I pray Lil will heed my warning and stay in the penthouse. As much faith as I have in those men, I still have anxiety clawing from inside out. You can never predict how smoothly a plan will play out. Owen appears confident, but then again his demeanor never wavers. I attribute his strength to his military background. I left him in the business office to work in the lab today. I’m eager to see the live results of the Oss-Meta drug.

Jean’s bright smile is the first thing I spot coming around the corner. “Good news my friend. We’ve done it,” he celebrates. “We’ve ran more than a hundred and fifty tests in the past week and they’ve all passed with one-hundred percent success rate.”

“That’s the best news I’ve had so far. No, let me rephrase myself. That’s the second best news I’ve had so far.” I pat his back.

“What could possibly be better than this news—unless it’s news of a baby?” Jean states.

“But…how did you…already know?” I ask, bewildered and a little freaked out. Lil believes Jean has voodoo powers. Can she be right? How else would he know? We’re still waiting for confirmation from Dr. Laurent’s office.

“So I’m right?” His dense brow arches with a suggestive grin. “I felt her pulse when we last met. It was faint but I sensed an extra set of life beating along hers.”

“Set? Are you implying twins? Jean, don’t bullshit with me,” I warn him.

“That’s what I felt and I’ve never been wrong with pulse readings,” he assures me confidently.

“My God. If you’re right, I’ll be a father to two babies!” I exclaim. The thought of one was already exciting and overwhelming, but two takes it to a whole other level.
Okay. Don’t get too worked up until Dr. Laurent calls you
. I calm myself.

“We’ll celebrate when she gets her first ultrasound,” he adds with a nudge of his elbow.

“We sure will,” I agree. “If it’s true, you have a very unique gift, my friend.”

The minute Carson exits the penthouse, I race out of bed, dress and sprint to the kitchen with two sleeping pills in my jean pocket. I only have a few hours, tops, before Carson gets home. Rummaging through the enormous kitchen, I finally find a blender with steel blades so sharp I bet it could cut through metal. I peel a variety of ripened fruits to mask the medicinal taste of the pills, if there is any. All items are tossed in and the commercial grade motor pulverizes everything into a smooth, yellow-orange liquid in seconds.

“Luke, I made you a smoothie. It’s a recipe I got off Pinterest. It’s full of energy and vitamins,” I offer him.

“I don’t drink smoothies,” he grunts from his corner. Oh no. He’s not cooperating with this part of my plan.

“But I made this especially for you. You look like you haven’t slept for days,” I point out—and that’s no exaggeration either. He looks terrible—even when he’s hidden behind his dark glasses. “It’ll replenish you,” I encourage desperately.

Reluctantly, he gets up and comes into the kitchen. “Okay,” he agrees. “I’ll give it a try since you went through a lot of trouble to make it.”

Forcing my hands to stop shaking because I’m scared as heck about drugging Luke, I hand over the glass to him. “You have to drink it all or you won’t get the nutritional benefits from it.”

He nods and takes a small sip. “Mmm. Not bad. It’s actually tasty,” he compliments with a smile, making me feel like shit. Finally, he offers me his first genuine smile and what do I do? I drug him.

“See. I knew you’d like it,” I tell him as I watch for his reaction. He’s probably trained to know when someone’s lying to him. I’m sure he can see right through me and my charade. I’m going to get caught. I just know it. My hands are now a clammy mess and they won’t stop trembling by my sides.

“Thanks.” He walks back to his corner with the smoothie in has hand, drinking and enjoying it.

I pour out the remaining liquid in the blender and clean the kitchen, discarding the evidence of my crime. I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m terrified. My heart is beating rampantly. I can barely function, but I must. The next step is to call Edison to have him pick me up. I can’t risk taking a cab and have someone on the opposite team identify me. Belle told me he works at his photo studio on Wednesdays, so hopefully he’ll be available or I’ve done all this for nothing. I pad lightly by Luke, checking his vitals from afar. He still appears alert, but it hasn’t been more than ten minutes yet. The indication on the bottle says it may take fifteen to thirty minutes.

Retrieving my paper from underneath my sock drawer, I sit down on a leather ottoman in the middle of the closet to collect myself.
I can do this. I want to erase that evil bitch out of our lives for good
. I unfold the paper and repeat Edison’s number in my head. My unstable finger makes it difficult to dial his digits. I feel so underhanded and guilty.
It’ll be over soon
. I convince myself.

The phone rings twice before Edison answers, “Hello, who’s this?”

“It’s me, Lillian,” I reply quickly so he doesn’t hang up on me.

“Lillian, what a nice surprise. How are you?”

“I’m good,” I reply. “Am I interrupting anything important?”

“No. Not at all. What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you at the dance studio lately.”

“Dancing isn’t really my thing,” I admit. “I only did it because of peer pressure,” I disclose. I want to get to the point, but I hate to come across as being rude, especially since I’m going to ask a huge favor of him.

“Oh, I see,” he says disappointedly.

“We can still hang out,” I assure him. “Just not a dance studio.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear that. Speaking of hanging out, are you busy today?” He couldn’t ask that question at a better time.

“No. In fact, I was hoping you’d be free today. I have a favor to ask of you.” I spring on him.

“Sure. What is it?”

“I need a ride to someone’s house. I’ll explain the details to you when you pick me up. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. No problem. What time do you need me there and where do you live?”

“Can you get here in thirty minutes? I’m at the Zen, sponging off my cousin Carson this week. I’ll meet you downstairs at the curb.”

“It might take me forty-five with traffic.”

“That’ll work. What color is your car?”

“Black.”

“Thanks, Edison. You’re the best. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Looking forward to seeing you again, Lillian.” Something in his voice tells me he’s not just innocently hoping to see me again, but I can’t worry about that now. I need someone to have my back while I’m out and about without Luke.

“Same here. Bye.”

I disconnect our call and dial Sasha’s number to make sure she’s home. The advantage of Carson’s burner phone is it’s untraceable. I’m in luck. She answers after three rings. I memorize her surprisingly sweet voice in that split second and then hang up. One more thing I need to cross off my list is send Carson a text to buy me more time.

Busy working in the library. Text responses might be delayed:(

Thinking of you always. XOX Lil

~~~~

Thirty minutes later, Luke is knocked out cold sitting in his chair. I place a magazine in his hands so security won’t question why he’s immobile. He looks very peaceful.
I did him a favor. He probably hasn’t slept this well for days or weeks
. I convince my conscience on my way out to meet Edison.

After covering up my tracks and retrieving my hidden coat, hat and scarf in the pantry, I exit through the privacy door. Edison is punctual around the curb. At least I hope that’s his black Saab waiting for me. My head is covered with a wool hat and I have an oversized scarf around my neck and face so no one can see me. Just my eyes are visible. I casually walk up to his car and tap the passenger side window. It lowers down with Edison’s head tilted sideways to see out. “Is that you, Lillian?” he hollers out.

“Yes,” I whisper. He opens the door from inside and I slide in quickly. “Hi. Thanks for doing this for me,” I puff, breathing heavily from my anxiety as well as the chilly air. What an ordeal that was to get past Luke and security. I probably won’t dodge the next two traffic lights before they come after me. My fingers and toes are crossed for good luck.

“No problem. Anything for you,” he tells me enthusiastically while his eyes smile fondly at me. “Where are we heading, baby girl?” Eww. It makes my skin crawl when he calls me that. It’s creepy. It sounds like something a molester would say.
Lil, stop it! He’s doing you a favor.

I pull out my BPC stationary with Sasha’s address and rattle off the house number and street name to him. He seems uneasy for some reason. It’s apparent from his crinkled brows and roving eyes. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” He grins, shaking it off quickly. “Who’s this person you’re visiting?” he asks as he wedges his car into the middle of Boston’s dreaded traffic congestion.

“She has something I really need. I’m hoping she’ll give it to me.”

“Sounds important,” is all he says without asking me to expound. “How was your visit home?” He shifts the subject, recalling the last thing I told him from the Make it Magical event.

“It was nice to see my friends and catch up,” I answer concisely. Though I’m grateful he’s doing this favor for me, I don’t want to give him the wrong impression by divulging too much of myself.

“How long have you been doing photography?” I turn the focus back to him.

“A few years,” he replies, surprisingly with no flare in his tone. I find his response to be odd. Most artists I know or have read about are exceptionally passionate and proud of their work.

“Don’t you enjoy it?”

“I do, but it’s just a job, not my passion.”

“Really? I can’t believe you don’t love it. It’s just a hobby for me, but I love it. What’s your passion then?” I ask because my curiosity wants an explanation.

“Expensive cars. I love them all.” Now his voice is animated and full of energy. “Soon, I’ll be driving a Ferrari,” he shares.

“I’m excited for you. I’ve never been a car person. It must be a girl thing.” I chuckle.

“It must be,” he snickers.

L
ooking down at my watch I realize it’s almost time for my meeting with Bridgette. I find it unusual that Lil hasn’t responded to any of my recent texts, though she did forewarn me she’d be working in the library. Security hasn’t alerted me of anything unusual and I haven’t heard anything alarming from Luke either. I think my paranoia is getting the best of me.

“Mr. Bradley, Miss Longley and a guest are here to see you,” Evelyn notifies me through my speakerphone.

“Who’s the guest?” I ask. I wasn’t expecting anyone but Bridgette.

“Um…he looks like you, sir,” she stammers in a soft voice, staggered.

I’m baffled. “What do you mean? Oh, never mind. Send them both in,” I tell her.

Bridgette enters first and then her guest. Now I understand what Evelyn was trying to tell me. It’s as if I’m staring at myself in the mirror. The only difference is his goatee and maybe his hair is slightly darker than mine. What the fuck? My eyes won’t stop screaming about the similarities between us. Did he have cosmetic surgery to look like me for some reason? I meet them halfway, watching him with vigilance.

“Hello, Carson,” Bridgette greets, reading my wary expression.

“Good afternoon, Bridgette and…,” I trail off to allow her to introduce the man standing next to her, rather than be abrasively forward. My guards are way up. I don’t fair to strangers well, especially one who looks like a replica of me.

“This is Wes,” she introduces him. Wait a goddamn minute. I remember her mentioning a Wes. If my memory doesn’t fail me, his fucking surname is Montgomery. Instantly, a heat inside me, much like molten lava from a violent volcano, erupts and is ready to obliterate everything in sight. My throat tightens from the tension of my jaw gritting so firmly together. Why would she fucking bring one of them into my office?

“What’s he doing here?” I snarl. I don’t even attempt to hide my anger. “You know how I fucking feel about them!” I roar like a predatory lion ready to pounce on my prey. My head is throbbing. The vessels along my temple are probably doubled in size with the amount of blood rushing through them.

Overlooking my outrage, he still reaches out to me, offering a handshake. “Nice to finally meet you.” Even his deep, bold voice sounds like mine. I have no desire to respond as I glare at him, at
me
. It’s fucking eerie.

“Carson,” Bridgette calls out to me. “Don’t be like that. He’s not a greedy Montgomery like the others,” she explains to ease my hate. Wes avoids my scowling eyes and focuses on Bridgette’s face instead. It’s odd that he doesn’t seem to be affected by our uncanny resemblance like I am. “He has something to share with you and I think you better hear him out. Lil’s safety depends on it. She’s possibly still in danger even after you retrieve your researchers today.”

The second I hear Lil’s name paired with the word danger my heart clenches with fear. My recurring nightmare is no longer just a nightmare. She’s telling me there’s a chance. I don’t take chances. To hell with everything else I need to be by her side, to protect her. “Please. Tell me what you know,” I plead with extreme desperation, sounding pathetic and weak. I could care less if I have to beg on my hands and knees. For Lil’s safety I’d do anything.

Wes’s eyes soften along with his rigid shoulders. His guards are down, but mine aren’t. I refuse to trust a Montgomery. “First of all I’m not offended by your reaction toward me. I’d have a hard time trusting my opponent’s son as well.”

“Good,” I reply impatiently. Every second that passes is another second I’m losing with Lil. He needs to hurry the fuck up and spill it.

“I believe my father and your ex-fiancée, Bianca, have worked out a bargain.” That filthy, evil bitch is involved again. I should’ve dealt with her following Lil’s accident. She won’t get any mercy from me. When I get my hands on her little neck, I’m going to fucking snap her head off. “Unfortunately, he didn’t give me any details, so I don’t have a time, date or place for you. I do know he has someone working on the inside—someone who interacts with Lillian in Boston.” Fuck! Who can that person be? There can’t be that many. I’ve pretty much cut her off from the world.
Okay…think, Carson
. I go down a list of people in my head: Andrew, Stewart, Belle, Hayden, Nikki, Luke, Rollin, Evelyn, and Edison. I narrow it down to three logical choices: Edison, Andrew or Stewart. They’re acquaintances and have no real ties to Lil. Stewart has hated me for years even though he told me it was a misunderstanding. Maybe that was a cover up so I wouldn’t suspect him.

“Do you know whether the insider is a man or woman?” I ask.

Sealing his eyes, I think he’s trying to recall his conversation with Chandler. “It’s a man. I’m almost positive,” he answers.

“Do any of these names ring a bell for you: Stewart, Andrew or Edison?”

“I know a Stewart and an Andrew,” he confirms. “How odd that you’d mention those two names together.”

My hunch was right. Stewart is the traitor. “How do you know them?” I snap as I try to suppress the hostility creeping from the burning hell inside me.

“Stewart’s my cousin and Andrew’s his partner.”
Mother f-er
! He’s been scheming with his uncle all this time. He probably convinced Andrew to earn Lil’s trust and then steal her sweatshirt. Damn it. I’ve given Andrew complete access to my place, too.
That sneaky bastard
. “Stew’s a saint. He’d never hurt anyone. He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body,” Wes defends. “That’s why he’s a doctor and not an entrepreneur. He’s not the insider.”

I don’t believe it. I’ve heard enough. “What do you want in return for this information, Mr. Montgomery?” I ask coldly. Why else would he be here if he didn’t want something in exchange?

“I don’t want anything,” he snips, appearing offended and maybe even hurt. His eyes, also hazel like mine, drop disappointedly over to Bridgette. “I want to correct my father’s wrong. That’s all.” His voice is glum, seeming very sincere.

“Carson, I can vouch for Wes. He’s been blindsided by his father all his life,” Bridgette speaks up. “He’s here as a friend, not a foe.”

“Mr. Bradley, I’m sorry to interrupt you. You have an emergency call from security,” Evelyn buzzes in through the speakerphone, cutting us off.

Edison drives up to a dark brick-paved road lined with matching red brick buildings adorned with alternating bay windows on every floor. Bianca pays her assistant-accomplice very well. I pray Sasha is still home and she’ll give me what I need so I can put this all behind me.

“Edison, if it’s okay with you. I’d like to go in by myself.”

“Sure. I’ll find a parking space somewhere and wait for you. Text or call me when you’re done,” he offers with a pouty smile, knowing parking is next to impossible to find anywhere in Boston. I’m grateful he didn’t ask me for any explanations during our drive here. I just offered him my ears and pretended to be interested in his rambling about expensive cars. Impressively, he was able to rattle off every stat on each make and model of his favorite choices. Carson’s Bugatti was among his list of must-haves. That was the only vehicle I knew anything about. 

“I will. Thanks so much for doing this,” I tell him and exit the car with an eerie tightness trussed around my chest. A part of me fears that she won’t confess her guilt, but I won’t give up until she does. I’ll pressure her until she can’t refuse me. She’s my only hope of purging Bianca out of my life.

I make it past the main entrance into Sasha’s building, walking in with a young couple and their baby stroller and groceries. Now I need to find her unit. I politely ask the young couple, “Can you please tell me where I can find this address? I’m from out of town and would like to pay my cousin a surprise visit.” Graciously, they tell me to take the elevator down the hallway and then it’ll be on my left when I exit. Of course it’s on the top level. I choose the stairs instead of the elevator. I already have enough anxiety. After five steep flights up I’m completely out of breath. Briefly, I drop down on the last step and lean my head and body against a metal railing to settle down. Damn it. My well-crafted plan is a lot more work than I pictured in my head. Alright, it’s time. I can’t waste another minute. Carson will be worried sick and livid if he comes home to find me missing and my bodyguard zonked out. I straighten my spine, square my shoulders and open the metal door to enter Sasha’s floor. Just like the couple instructed, it’s to the left of the elevator. With one last large inhale, I press her doorbell. There’s no answer. I wait another thirty seconds, counting it down in my mind and then press it again. The door swings open with Sasha on the other side wearing a fluffy pink robe, caught off guard. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes appear unrested, and her hair is tousled. She must’ve had a late night and I’m interrupting her sleep.

“May I help you?” she asks uncaringly as she examines my face through her tapering eyes. She adjusts her robe in the front to cover her exposed breasts when she notices my disapproving face.

“I’m Lillian.” Her expression tenses as her eyes enlarge at the familiarity of my name. Of course she knows me. “I have a proposition for you,” I tell her and let myself into her swanky place. She closes the door behind with no resistance and locks the deadbolt. Right away, a foreboding, dark cloud hovers over me. Something feels really wrong to me.

“Why would I be interested in a proposition from you?” She rolls her eyes at me with her back against the locked door.

“Because you don’t want to go to jail,” I tell her frankly, feeling the bile in my gut crawl slowly upward, making me nauseous. I’m no good at bluffing and my poker face sucks. “I pretty much have everything I need to pin you for my attempted murder.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she denies as she settles her bottom on the white leather sofa with her legs and hands crossed.

“I have a copy of a car-rental contract with your signature and witnesses who saw you in the red sports car before and after the accident.” I continue to bluff, keeping my shaky hands in my pocket.

“Then why don’t you have someone arrest me?” She dares me haughtily. Shit. This isn’t playing out how I thought it would. “Obviously, you have everything you need.”

“Do you really want to go to jail for Bianca? Aren’t you tired of being used over and over again like an old dishrag? She doesn’t give a shit about you. She only cares about herself. Tell me I’m wrong,” I stress. “After she’s done with you she’ll let you rot in jail and never think twice about it either. All I need from you is a confession, claiming Bianca’s involvement. Carson will have his lawyers work out a deal so you won’t have to serve any time.”

Sasha seems to be considering what I just told her. She starts biting nervously on her nails. Oh God, please let her come to her senses. Give me the break I need.

“Sasha, don’t listen to that whore,” Bianca’s voice projects loudly from a hallway by the entrance, choking the life out of me. Oh shit. I didn’t consider her being here. Panicked, my eyes rush to the exit door. Bianca is already standing in front of it, blocking my only means of escape. “She’s trying to separate us like she separated me from Carson.” Bianca tugs at Sasha’s heartstrings with a pathetic, emotional plea. I hope she doesn’t fall for it. “She doesn’t want us to be happy together. She’s trying to take me away from you,” Bianca continues her lies.

With each step the devil takes to come closer to me, my heart races even faster, knowing death is approaching me and my
baby
. My body trembles with fear. I’ve never been more scared. Between her and Sasha, I have no chance of fleeing. Why didn’t I listen to Carson? Why did I think I can handle it my way? My eyes start to burn while tears beg to be released but I won’t allow them. I can’t let her see my weakness. That’s what her wicked soul wants and feeds on. “Sasha, free yourself. Don’t let her control you anymore. Please,” I persuade desperately. She’s my only hope of getting out of here alive. Bianca isn’t going to let me escape her grip a second time. I know this for a fact by looking into her empty, icy blue eyes. She wants me dead and nothing will make her happier.

“Grab her,” Bianca yells out to Sasha making her jerk timidly. “This stupid bitch just made things so much easier for us by walking into our trap.” She cackles hysterically.

I back away but there’s nowhere to run. I yank the coffee table up to blockade them and it crashes over to the side, shattering the glass center into a hundred razor-sharp blades. Angrily, Bianca grabs a hold of my wrist and jerks me down to the ground. My palm hits the edge of one of the broken pieces and it slices into my flesh like the world’s sharpest knife. Blood seeps all the way down the sleeve of my white coat before the shooting pain hits me, radiating to my fingers and forearm with an unfathomable burning sensation. I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore as I remove a glass blade lodged in my hand.

“You dumb bitch!” Bianca scolds me. “Look at what you’ve done! Your blood is everywhere. We’ll have to deal with this shit later,” she barks at Sasha, who appears aghast and terrified by the gory sight of my bright blood. “Just don’t sit there like an idiot. Get some rope or duct tape for me.”

Unexpectedly, the doorbell chimes. I celebrate furtively between each hitch breath. This could be my break. Whoever’s on the other side will hopefully see me and free me. “Help! Help me! I’m in here!” I scream as loud as I could. Bianca shoves her hand over my mouth to muffle me, but it’ll take more than that to stop me. I’m fighting for my life. She better believe I’m going to give it my all. With the intention of maiming her, I bite the center of her palm. Appalled, she releases her grip of my mouth momentarily. I know there’ll be severe repercussions for my retaliation, but I’ll take my chances.