Текст книги "Remind Me "

Автор книги: Ann Marie Walker

Соавторы: Amy K. Rogers
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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Chapter Thirty-five

Shots rang out.

Like a fist out of the darkness, the nightmare seized Hudson with a fury. He couldn’t move and his heart was hammering in his chest.

Sucked into the vortex of terror, he was on his knees, unable to speak. Death encircled him as the metallic stench of blood coated the back of his throat. It was splattered on his shirt and dripping from his fingers in rivulets.

Flashing lights descended on the convenience store and the image sharpened. They’d come back in for something. What had he foolishly wanted? Crippling grief haunted every cell of his body.

Wake up, damn it . . . wake up. Hudson fisted the sheets under him in his rising panic.

A weak hand captured his and held on. Everything was chaos. People ran around him shouting commands. His mother skidded to her knees, slipping through the viscous liquid that stained her legs, and wrapped her arms around him, clutching him to her chest. She was so cold, yet the room was stifling hot and he was sweating.

And as quick as a last breath, the hand clutching his let go. The sounds of his mother’s scream ricocheted off the walls so loudly he thought the fluorescent lights above them would shatter.

He should be crying, shouldn’t he? With a scream lodged in his burning throat, Hudson squeezed his eyes shut, straining to force tears out for someone he should be crying for. Why wasn’t he crying? Why couldn’t he cry for the one person who meant so much to him?

This was his fault . . .

All his fault.

“Hudson.” Gentle cool hands landed on his chest. “Hudson, wake up.”

White-knuckling the sheets, Hudson thrashed his legs and his chest heaved with a panting breath.

“Hudson. You’re dreaming. Wake up.”

He bolted upright. “What? What is it?” His eyes darted around the room.

“You were having a nightmare.”

“Jesus.” Closing his eyes, Hudson scrubbed a hand down his face, the remains of his dream clinging to him like a physical blow.

“Are you okay?” she asked. He could hear the concern in her voice.

“Yeah.” Fuck no. “Yeah.” He looked at Allie kneeling back on her heels beside him and thought how convoluted and screwed up her life was because of him. She didn’t need someone like him fucking everything up the way he had with his own family, but the compulsion to be with her was like a madness.

In a series of smooth and swift movements, Hudson rolled her beneath him. She gasped as he yanked her T-shirt over her head, baring her entire body to him before taking her mouth with primal desperation.

“I want you.” He hooked his ankles with hers and spread her legs wide. With the nightmare still fresh in his mind, all he wanted was to be lost in the softness between her thighs, to feel her wrapped around him. For just one moment he wanted to be free of his past. To be free of his guilt.

“Wait, Hudson. Wait,” she panted, and pushed against his chest. “We need to talk. You were screaming.”

He pressed his lips to her throat, sucking gently. “I don’t need to talk. I need you. I need this.” She moaned, bowing into his hands as his cock stroked between the lips of her sex. Sealing his mouth over hers, his tongue dipped into her with deep, lush glides. He laced his fingers with hers and slipped her hand between them. “Feel me as I take you.”

With a necessity fueling what was already an almost debilitating desire, he entered her on a solid stroke.

Chapter Thirty-six

Allie tapped her foot on the lobby floor, glancing up at the descending numbers above the elevator doors, willing them to move faster. She was late, seriously late, and she was never late to work. Ever.

“What is taking so long,” she mumbled.

Wanting to check the time, she fished her phone out of her purse, only to realize she’d never turned it on. As soon as she did, it started to vibrate with missed calls and messages. The most recent was a text from Harper. Allie read it as she stepped into the elevator.

Meeting NOW. Where R U?

“Shit,” she cursed under her breath while shoving the phone in the pocket of her jeans. Jeans, at work! Another thing she never did, but desperate times and all that. She’d overslept—item three on the morning’s “never” list—and had barely had time to brush her teeth and throw her hair in a ponytail, let alone swing by her place for work clothes.

The elevator doors slid open. Allie bypassed her office and bolted straight for the conference room. Mr. Ellis never broke stride as she slipped into the room, continuing as if nothing was amiss while she quietly took her seat at the table. Allie ignored Harper’s raised brow, dropping her purse on the floor and powering up her tablet. An incoming message filled a chat box in the corner of the screen before she’d even had time to pull up the agenda.

When did we start Casual Mondays?

Leave it to Harper to not let the jeans go unnoticed, let alone unmentioned. But either way, Allie did need more suitable clothes for the rest of the week. She made a mental note to swing by her apartment after work and grab a few things. Clothes, shoes, underwear. Come to think of it, she might need to run out at lunch and buy more underwear, given the rate Hudson tore through them. The thought of his fingers shredding through satin and lace made a warm blush spread over her cheeks.

Within seconds another message appeared.

OMG, you spent the weekend with HIM, didn’t you?

Followed by another . . .

Don’t bother denying it. I know the walk of shame when I see it.

And then another . . .

You can’t avoid me forever.

No, but she could certainly try. Allie shot Harper an annoyed look, then turned her attention to the meeting’s agenda. She scanned the bullet points, desperately trying to decipher which item they were currently discussing.

“Could you and Harper handle that, Alessandra?”

Allie’s head snapped up at the sound of her boss’s voice. Handle what? Jeez, she was a mess. And it was only Monday. “Sure thing,” she said, wondering what in the hell she’d just agreed to. A message popped up from Harper, who had clearly read her mind. Or at least her panicked face.

Textbook budget.

Ah, okay. “Thank you,” Allie mouthed across the table. A yawn came out of nowhere and, embarrassed, she quickly covered her mouth with her hand. Harper’s eyes grew wide and she immediately began typing. Allie frowned. Great, what now?

Holy shit, you finally did it!

Harper rolled her eyes at Allie’s blank look. She tapped a few keys on her tablet and then stared pointedly at Allie’s left hand.

You finally kicked Lord Lame-Ass to the curb.

Allie’s eyes darted to her hand where she saw . . . nothing? She let out a small gasp. Julian’s ring was gone. She’d no sooner had the thought when she remembered Hudson slipping it off her finger and placing it on one of the bookshelves. Tonight you’re mine. Her toes curled at the thought of his unyielding power, his unwavering authority. He’d completely possessed her—mind, body, and soul.

This calls for a celebration!

Dancing? Drinks first, of course.

We should totally hit . . .

Harper’s messages came in rapid succession, rambling on about all the ways in which they were going to celebrate, but Allie had stopped reading them. She couldn’t take her eyes off her unadorned finger. She’d grown so used to the sight of Julian’s ring that it seemed strange to look down and see nothing but her bare hand. Strange and wonderful. It was as though an enormous weight had been lifted from her. Some tether to a life she neither designed nor enjoyed. It felt . . . perfect.

In that moment Allie knew what she wanted. Deep down she’d known it all along. Julian might have been the right choice for Ingram Media, but he wasn’t the right choice for her. She knew her parents would be livid, but somehow she’d have to make them understand. The past two weeks with Hudson had changed her, awakened a side of her that had been waiting to be set free. Life before him was neat, orderly, and boring as hell. She’d never felt more alive than she did when she was with him. It was the same way she’d felt ten years ago, but the connection between them had grown stronger, more intense. Had she really thought she could give that up? Give him up? It broke her heart to walk away from him once. There was no way she was making that same mistake twice.

The meeting dragged on, as did the rest of the afternoon. All day her mind drifted to thoughts of Hudson. She was dying to call him, if for no other reason than to hear his voice, but fought the urge. She knew if she gave in she’d end up spilling her guts over the phone, and she wanted to look into his eyes when she told him she was ending things with Julian; that she was choosing a life with him.

When six o’clock finally rolled around, she sent him a quick text.

Stopping by my place for clothes. Meet you at PH. Late dinner?

There was no reply. Come to think of it, she hadn’t heard from Hudson all day. She’d been so busy trying to keep her mind off calling him that she hadn’t even realized he’d never tried to call her. Not once. At first she thought it was odd, but then she reminded herself he was probably busy handling all the calls he’d ignored over the weekend. Or maybe he was with Nick.

Sweet little Nicky. Her heart sank at the thought of all that had happened to him as a young boy. And now he was in even worse shape. Just picturing the way he looked when he stepped off the elevator last night, like a stray that had been beaten and starved, made her shudder. She sent up a silent prayer that he’d finally accepted the help his older brother was offering.

Hudson never did tell her what had happened after he dropped her off at the penthouse, but whatever it was had been bad. Really bad. And knowing how Hudson felt about his brother, the responsibility he bore, she knew it was tearing him up inside. Was that what brought on his nightmare? The haunting image of him writhing as he fisted the sheets filled her mind. Allie had never witnessed a nightmare like that firsthand. It had been excruciating to watch him in so much pain, his legs tangled in the bedding, his face contorted, his chest heaving.

He wouldn’t talk about it in bed last night. No big surprise there. Hudson was always so guarded about his life, particularly his past, but Allie planned to bring it up the first chance she had. If they were going to build a life together, she wanted to be a part of all of it. The good and the bad. But more than that, she wanted to help him if she could. It was obvious from what she’d witnessed that he kept something buried deep inside, something that surfaced when he slept, gripping him when he was most vulnerable, when he had no control. She would do anything if it meant never seeing him in that kind of pain again. Anything.

At her apartment Allie quickly showered and changed into a chocolate-brown jersey dress, pairing it with the hoop earrings Hudson had once said caught the gold flecks in her hazel eyes. She left her hair in loose curls, just the way she knew he liked it, and at the last minute decided to leave her panties in the drawer. A shiver ran through her at the thought of his reaction when his questing fingers discovered her lack of lingerie.

Anxious to get to the penthouse, she grabbed a few outfits for work and threw them in a bag. She was halfway out the door when her phone rang. The screen read “private caller.” Hudson. Her lips curved into a wide smile as she answered the call. “Missing me?” she purred.

There was silence on the line, then a heavy exhale. “Oui, of course.”

“Julian?” She glanced at her watch, quickly adjusting for the time change. “What are you doing up so late? Isn’t it almost two in Paris?”

“I’m in Chicago. Actually, I’m stuck on the fucking Kennedy.”

“You’re back?” Her voice sounded much louder than she’d intended.

“My business concluded sooner than expected so I—how do you say?—caught a flight.”

Oh shit. She wasn’t expecting to have this conversation until next weekend. She needed time to prepare, time to sort out what she wanted to say. Maybe she could stall, at least buy herself one night.

“You must be exhausted. Get some sleep and we can meet for drinks after work tomorrow. The Peninsula, say six o’clock?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” There was a brief pause as he took a drag off his cigarette. “I told the driver to drop me at your apartment.”

She glanced around her apartment, but for what she had no idea. “How far out are you?”

“Je ne sais pas—fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. Sooner if these fucking imbeciles would learn to drive.”

What? The ride from O’Hare was always a nightmare. Just her luck tonight would be the exception.

“Great. I’ll see you then.” Allie tried to keep her voice light as she rushed him off the phone. She needed to collect herself. She needed to call Hudson. He was expecting her to meet him at his penthouse. Crap. This was not a conversation she wanted to have over the phone.

The call went to voice mail and Allie breathed a sigh of relief. She knew he would have pressed her for answers, and right now she just didn’t have the time. Hudson’s outgoing message was gruff, to the point, and for some bizarre reason, made her smile.

“Hi, it’s me. Um . . . Julian just called. He’s back in town and headed over here.” She paused, debating how much more to say, and then simply added, “I need to talk to him. I’ll call as soon as I can.”

***

When Julian arrived, he went straight to the kitchen to fix himself a drink. And if his bloodshot eyes were any indication, it wasn’t his first of the night. Or second, for that matter. If Allie had to guess, he’d probably had more than a few on the transatlantic flight. Had he always drank so much?

Glass in hand, he leaned against the counter, casting a leering glance down her body.

She felt her palms grow damp. There was no easy way to do this; might as well get it over with. “Julian . . .”

“Wait.” He strolled toward her, oozing arrogance. “Forgot one thing.” He leaned closer and the sour stench of alcohol mixed with the sweet scent of his cologne. Allie’s empty stomach churned. What had she ever seen in this man? Just as he was about to kiss her, she turned her head a fraction, offering him her cheek instead.

“We need to talk,” she whispered.

Julian snorted and tossed back the rest of his vodka. “Talk? Tu te fous de moi? I’ve been traveling all day; the last thing I want to do is talk.” He set his glass down on the end table and slid his hands around Allie’s waist.

“I can’t do this.” She tried wriggling out of his arms, but his hold on her tightened as his lips found her neck.

“I’ve been gone almost two weeks, ma chérie.” He was everywhere at once. His long hands roaming down her back; his wet lips moving across her skin; his hardening erection digging into her hip. She flattened her palms against his chest and pushed, but he didn’t budge.

“I’m serious, Julian. Stop.”

“Let me guess, you have a headache?” His hands slid to her backside, feeling his way over her body and holding her tight against him. “I thought those excuses started after the ceremony?” he said, letting his tongue dip into her ear.

“I can’t marry you.”

He lifted his head. She’d expected shock, even anger, but Julian’s eyes blazed with raw fury. “The hell you can’t,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t love you.” Her voice was small but firm.

“Love?” He sneered at her. “This has nothing to do with love, Alessandra.” Julian released her and she exhaled the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. “It’s an arrangement. Part of the deal.”

Allie’s wide eyes darted to his. She was part of a deal? What deal?

“Don’t act so surprised.” The smile he gave her sent a chill down her spine. “You’re one hell of a trophy wife.”

And there it was, the cold truth.

Julian picked up his drink and beelined for the bottle of Grey Goose he’d left on the kitchen counter. Allie watched as he poured a hefty shot over the ice, making himself at home in her apartment just as he had in the rest of her life. She felt like such a fool. None of it had been real. The whirlwind romance, the impulsive proposal, not even the tender words whispered across a pillow. Allie’s eyes drifted shut as a wave of nausea rolled through her, and for a moment she thought she might be sick. Everything had been a means to an end, all part of his plan to worm his way into Ingram Media.

Ice cubes rattled against cut glass and she opened her eyes. Julian was staring at her, his lips curled into a smirk. “You haven’t learned a damn thing from your mother, have you?”

“I’m nothing like her.” Tears of anger and frustration threatened and she wiped them quickly with her hand.

Julian’s eyes flared over the top of his glass. “Where’s your ring?” he asked, leveling his stare on her left hand. Before she could answer he slammed the glass down on the counter and stalked toward her. Allie stepped back but he grabbed her with both hands, his fingers digging into her arms to the point of pain. “What the fuck have you been doing while I was gone?”

“You’re hurting me.”

He gave her a hard shake. “Answer me. Where the fuck is my ring, Alessandra?” His nostrils flared and his face twisted with rage. Allie had never seen him like this. Angry over a botched dinner reservation? Sure. Impatient with a valet? Absolutely. But the man standing in front of her was volatile and wild, totally out of control.

“You’ll get it back.” Her mouth was so dry she could barely get the words out. “Do you honestly think I’d try to keep it?”

“Peut-être,” he snarled. “Considering the money I’ve promised your father, you’re no better than the whores I pay.”

She flinched at first, then lifted her chin. What Julian was saying was ridiculous. He was just lashing out, trying to hurt her, and she’d be damned if she’d let him hurt her anymore than he already had. “My father doesn’t need your money.” She tried her best to sound unaffected, but her voice trembled, betraying her.

“Your father,” he said with utter disdain, “is losing his company one share at a time.” He let out a harsh, condescending laugh. “You didn’t think I was actually in a hurry to get married, did you?”

He paused, waiting for a reaction, but she refused to give him the satisfaction.

“Someone’s making a play,” he continued, “buying up stock left and right.” It was obvious how much he enjoyed being the one to break the news. “He needs me, or at least my cash, to save it.”

Still gripping her tight with one hand, he ran his index finger down her throat until he reached the low neckline of her dress. He hooked the material with his finger then let it dip between her breasts. Allie’s heart rate spiked and her eyes darted toward the door. Four steps, maybe five. Thank God it was unlocked. He’d catch her if she had to struggle with the deadbolt. All she had to do was break free.

A dark glint flashed in Julian’s eyes and he slowly licked his bottom lip. “I’d say you owe me.”

Allie struggled but he tightened his grip. Fear lodged in her throat, choking her and causing her breath to come in shallow gasps. She could barely draw enough air to speak. “Let go of me, you sick bastard.”

From out of nowhere the back of his hand struck her face. The force of the blow knocked her off-balance and she fell hard, her head smacking against the coffee table with a loud crack. White light flashed behind her eyes and her head exploded with pain. She felt a gush of warm liquid flow down the side of her cheek and instinctively her hand flew to her face. When she lowered it, her fingers were bright red.

Allie looked up, her vision blurred with tears and blood, to find him coming back for more. She tried to scramble away only to feel a sharp burn in her scalp as he grabbed a fistful of her hair. The room shifted as he hauled her to her feet, and for a second she thought she might faint.

Julian yanked her back against his chest. “You fucking bitch,” he growled in her ear. “All you had to do was play the damn part, stand up and say I-fucking-do.” With a hard shove he bent her over the back of the couch. The blow to her ribs knocked the breath from her lungs in a powerful gust.

“I held up my end. Right now my dick’s hard, you’re here, and I’m just drunk enough.” He kicked her legs apart with his feet, one hand still in her hair, pushing her face into the cushions while the other unzipped his fly.

Panic gripped her. She tried to cry, to scream, but unable to catch her breath, managed nothing more than a silent plea.

No . . . please no. . . .