The Origin (23 page)

“Thank you, Alex,” she began to say once they reached her front door, but he cut her off.

“Are you kidding? I’m not leaving you. I’m coming inside and standing guard in case they come back.”

She shrugged with some effort and let him in. “They’re not coming back,” she said before locking and bolting everything on her door.

“In any case, I’m staying right here.” He dropped the bags by his feet and crossed his arms across his chest.

Several thoughts ran through his mind, each one threatening to come blurting out of his mouth. He wanted to tell her that he cared for her more than she realized. He wanted to apologize for not being a better protector, for not being a faster sprinter, that he should have gotten back in the car and driven after the van instead of giving chasing on foot like a moron. Mostly he just wanted to promise that he would never let anyone else hurt her again, a lofty promise that he wasn’t sure he could keep but wanted to make regardless.

But he said none of these, for she said nothing, and they just looked at each other quietly in the semi-darkness.

Olivia turned and walked down the hall. As she reached the bathroom door, he gently called out her name.

She put a hand on the jamb and faced him with a weary look.

“You don’t need to be afraid. Not around me.”

The sag in her shoulders would have been imperceptible, at least to anyone else who was not watching closely for the moment she thawed. “Here, let me get the glass out of your face,” he said and led the way inside. “Where do you keep your tweezers?”

She pointed. “Top drawer.”

With the tweezers held between his fingers, he reached out but could not bring himself to touch her cheek. She tilted her face into the light and he took a long look at what he’d been avoiding all night. He felt the anger building inside as he saw that one whole side of her face was covered in bloody lesions and shards of glass. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” he said, wincing at the sight of the long cut along the edge of her upper lip.

She shook her head. “I’m good. Really.”

He gritted his teeth. “No you’re not.” He wanted to kill the bastards that did this to her. A single thought suddenly flashed through his mind, and he gulped. “Did they… violate you?” he asked, afraid to hear the answer to the foul words leaving his mouth.

Olivia’s eyes dimmed a little but she, thankfully, shook her head. “They tried,” she said and filled him with relief and anger and an overwhelming need to keep her safe. It wasn’t rational, he knew, because she was a grown woman. Still, he couldn’t shake the fierce sensation of wanting to avenge her honor, as clichéd as it seemed.

He lifted his hand to begin the task, when her hand caught his wrist. “Don’t worry about it. I can do it,” she said.

Her eyes were empty and lifeless now, leaving him to wonder if the glimmer would ever return.

“I don’t mind.” He shook his head, but she wrestled the tweezers from his grasp regardless.

“I can do it myself,” she said once more. “Really.”

The last thing Alex wanted to do was to leave her alone with her physical and emotional wounds, but he had no other choice, not when she pushed him out and closed the door.

* * * * *

“What do you mean she’s back at her apartment?” King said into the phone as soon as Smith had relayed the night’s events over the phone, feeling his blood pressure rising once more. He reached into his nightstand drawer and pulled out a near empty bottle of pills.

“She’s there with her friend, Alexander Dahlgren. I’m parked across the street from her building, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.”

King grunted after taking a sip of water, finding it hard to believe that his own daughter would choose to go to her apartment rather than run home to her father, or at the very least, to the safety of the police station. For once, he wished she had not inherited his iron will.

“The two underlings, Felton White and Dane Carlton, turned out to be night janitors at the building where they held Olivia. They’re both now nursing shoulder wounds in a jail cell,” Smith said, and King knew the Australian man was grinning from ear to ear, as was his usual M.O. “This was a Mickey Mouse setup. They only had one gun amongst them.”

“And John
Mathers
?” King said, who had not at all been surprised to learn that an ex-employee was the one behind the extortion caper. John had been one of King’s most promising protégés, at least, according to what his supervising officers had reported, but he’d been fired after reliable
intel
surfaced that John would soon try to woo King’s clients away in secret. King admired the man’s ambition and drive, but he did not tolerate duplicity. You could not try to lure business away from Richard King without suffering the consequences.

“No, he disappeared from the scene. It’s almost like he vanished into thin air.” Smith paused then said, “Did you know his identity all along?”

“I wish I had. But, no. He dropped his phone in the van and I heard everything. Including my daughter ordering you around.”

Smith chuckled, always the good-natured, stone-cold killer. “You know what they say about the apple falling from the tree.”

King could not help it; he smiled. His daughter was safe and he could not have been more proud. He only wished he could tell her in person.

“How is she, Smith? Is she badly hurt?”

“Apart from small cuts on her face, she was otherwise unharmed.”

King nodded. His daughter would be fine. Unlike her mother, Olivia was resilient of spirit and would recover. Still, he had to err on the side of caution. “But Smith, keep a close eye on her. And make sure that Dahlgren boy doesn’t leave her side tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Just do it,” King said with a tone that left little room to argue. “And Smith, your assignment will be ongoing until John
Mathers
is found and brought to me.”

As they discussed the terms of the extended assignment, Smith argued that Olivia would take issue with her privacy being violated even further, but King vehemently disagreed. He felt deep down in his marrow that if Olivia knew exactly what was at stake, she would do the same thing to ensure the safety of her own offspring.

* * * * *

Olivia stepped out of the bathtub, watching the last of the glass swirling down the drain. She wound a towel taut around her head and prepared herself for the person who would peer back at her in the mirror.

She took a deep, steadying breath.

What she saw would have normally filled her eyes with tears, but she was spent, empty of energy to even care that half of her face was marked. Her only worry was that she would bear scars that would remind her of this night for the rest of her life.

Turning her good cheek on the problem, she slipped into a thick, indigo robe and went to face her impromptu house guest.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’m heading to bed,” she said, finding Alex sitting on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, hands knitted together.

He looked up at the sound of her voice. “Hey, it just occurred to me that I’m finally getting to spend the night at your place,” he said with a grin. It was just like him to always lighten the mood with a joke, and for the most part, he was usually successful.

She forced the uninjured corner of her mouth to stretch, hoping that the effect was a lopsided smile and not a frown. Then turned to leave.

“Mei?” Alex crossed the room with four purposeful strides and stopped in front of her. She took a small step backward and pulled the robe tighter around her chest, an instinctual reaction that took them both by surprise.

Alex moved away, clearly crestfallen. Some other day, maybe as soon as tomorrow, she would feel regret, but not tonight. Right now, she couldn’t summon the energy to care about the feelings of a wannabe knight in tinfoil armor.

“Yes?”

He took a deep breath. “Sleep well. I’ll be right here if you need me.” His hand twitched at his side and she knew he wanted to hold her, but she was thankful that it remained where it was.

“Thank you,” was all she said before padding down the short hallway. Once inside the safety of her bedroom, she closed the door, making sure to flick the flimsy little lock on the handle, and turned on both glass beside lamps.

Inside her choked closet, she fetched a shoebox that housed a pair of her favorite electric blue
Louboutin
pumps and a silver revolver. She had purchased the firearm a while ago, after she’d first moved to her own apartment, and being as it had never seen the outside of the shoebox, she had luckily never found a use for it. But those halcyon days of a gun tucked away in a closet were long behind her now.

Checking to see that the revolver was loaded, and of course it was as she’d never even fired it, she carefully laid it on the bedside table then finally climbed under the doughy weight of her comforter. Her eyes had already drifted closed when the name that had been tugging at the back of her mind all night finally pulled its way to the front.

With monumental effort, she opened her eyes, reached for the cordless phone and dialed. She was glad when the answering machine picked up, rewound and finally beeped. “Daniel, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m okay. Alex is here with me,” she managed to say then promptly fell asleep.

Daniel was having a bad night. He’d killed three people, burned down a building, been shot twice, had his face beaten into pulp, lost a countless amount of time while unconscious, and still he hadn’t accomplished his primary goal. Olivia was still nowhere to be found.

He groaned as he sat up from the carpeted floor. His face was already starting to heal, broken bones setting themselves, roots pulling loose teeth back in. Still, the healing process left a pounding headache in its wake that threatened to slice his forehead open. If he never got shot again, it would be too soon.

He looked around the office space for John, but knew that he would be long gone by now. Daniel could have sworn John said something about taking Olivia, about being sent by King, but he couldn’t be sure. Everything that came after the revelation about Rap’s death was an inexplicable blur.

Gingerly he searched around the offices for any clues, any sign of where they had taken Olivia, but found nothing but a tomblike expanse of empty cubicles and abandoned potted plants.

At a loss for what to do next, he washed his face off in a restroom, exited through the window he’d broken in the lobby and lumbered towards the nearest subway station. He needed a bath, four aspirins, and a clue.

By the time Daniel made it home, he had suffered through the migraine that was throwing off his vision and balance, as well as endured the looks of horror from late night subway passengers.

After taking some aspirin and water, he fell in a heap on the couch, wanting a moment’s rest before resuming his search for Olivia. Suddenly he noticed the blinking light on his answering machine, and his hope jumped a notch.

With some effort, he pushed himself up off the couch and made it to the answering machine. Relief consumed him like a tidal wave when he heard Olivia’s husky voice.

“Daniel, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m okay. Alex is here with me.”

The instant flare of jealousy quickly overrode his previous emotion. Daniel had spent all night looking for her, taking lives and bullets, only to find out she was spending the night with that blond prick?

He picked up the phone and dialed her cell phone number with a speed fueled by outrage. She had made a fool out of him.

“Hello?” the familiar husky voice answered, and despite himself, he felt some relief seep into his wall of anger. “Daniel?”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he said through his teeth. “Bye.”

“Daniel, wait!”

He held on, despite the strong desire to hang up. “What?”

“I was kidnapped for ransom,” she said in a strained whisper. “Tonight, before the ballet.”

“I know.”

“Who..?”

“Your blond friend told me.”

“They took me, tied me up and put duct tape over my eyes and mouth…” She stopped, choking on the words.

He gritted his teeth. “Did they hurt you?”

A long stretch of silence, and finally, “I’ll heal.”

He closed his eyes and fisted his gloved hand, aching to exact justice. Or was it vengeance? He couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

She was quiet again for a long time, obviously weighing her words. And whether it was actually present or not, he felt the full force of the accusation in her voice when she said, “Where were you?”

“I was busy tearing apart the entire city looking for you. You don’t even know what I had to do.”
You don’t even know what I’ve done!

He took a deep breath to gather his scattered emotions. God, he felt as if he were crumbling apart and dispersing in the wind. “I’ve done horrible things tonight,
Liv
. To find you.”