Текст книги "Love or Justice"
Автор книги: Rachel Mannino
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LOVE OR JUSTICE
Rachel Mannino
LOVE OR JUSTICE
Copyright © 2015 by Rachel Mannino.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: November 2015
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-346-5
ISBN-10: 1-68058-346-8
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
I dedicate this novel to my loving husband—
you inspired me to write.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
Laurie
Laurie glanced at the folded piece of paper in her hand. She made sure the penthouse suite was on the list of rooms ready for cleaning, then swerved her cleaning cart around, and backed up to the door. With practiced fluidity, she swiped her key card and opened the door wide, ready to prop it open, before she sensed the presence of another person. She looked up. What she saw stopped her cold.
A man with salt and pepper hair stood there. Dressed in a trim, black suit, his long hair dangled to the crisp, white collar of his button-down shirt. His hair thinned on either side of a widow’s peak. Several deep pockmarks dotted each of his tanned and weathered cheeks, accentuating his prominent cheekbones. He looked like any other businessman on the islands, except that extending from his hand was a polished, silver gun, gleaming in the light streaming in from the open doorway.
The man looked at Laurie with a mixture of shock and a little horror, as he waved his gun at her.
“Grab her.”
A scream caught in Laurie’s throat. She didn’t have time to think before a man standing between her and the gunman ran forward and grabbed her arm. He kicked the door shut, wrapping one thick hand around Laurie’s mouth. He twisted her arm and sparks floated across her vision. The man dragged her into the living room. Laurie’s eyes widened. The closer she got to that gleaming gun, the more she struggled.
The man with the gun stepped forward and pressed the cold metal of the barrel to her forehead.
Laurie gasped, stiffening. Her heart thundered in her chest. She barely breathed. She thought each breath would be her last, and she wondered if it hurt to die.
“Do not scream. Do not move or I will kill you.” He pressed the gun more firmly against her skin.
Laurie saw the coldness in his eyes. They were the color of granite, and just as unyielding. She looked down and away, standing perfectly still.
“What are you doing here? Who sent you?” His voice was like silk with underlying hints of gravel. Laurie said nothing, too terrified to speak.
“Answer him,” the man holding her instructed, twisting her arm.
She cried out in pain.
“I work for the resort.” Her voice squeaked and popped. “The head housekeeper told me you checked out. They said you left, and I had to clean the room for the next guest. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Laurie’s breath came in gasps now. She felt lightheaded. She continued to look down, but a movement beside her caught her attention. Laurie glanced over to see another woman kneeling on the floor. The woman had long, blonde hair, like Laurie’s, but longer, stretching halfway to her waist. Bruises crisscrossed her delicate features. She had a bloodied lip and a cut along her cheek. Her hair was dirty, tousled. There was a rip in her dress above the shoulder and all along the hem. The woman turned her head, casting Laurie a look of deep fear and pity from her hazel eyes.
“Obviously I haven’t checked out. Why would they send you up here?” He leaned forward until he was nose to nose with her, his granite eyes flashing. “I think you’re lying.”
He pressed the gun into Laurie’s skull.
“No, please.” Laurie licked her dry lips and suppressed her urge to call for help. “They make mistakes sometimes. They have two new people at the front desk. They must have made a mistake and checked out the wrong room.”
There was a long pause.
“Please, I’m very sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Laurie directed her words of apology at the woman she had locked eyes with.
“Help us,” the woman mouthed to Laurie.
Laurie blinked, not understanding. Then she noticed a thin arm circling the young woman’s waist, and two small hands clasped together. The child moved his head into view, resting it against the front of the woman’s waist to catch a glimpse of the new arrival. He was young, Laurie realized. Painfully young.
“I doubt you’re as sorry as you should be.” The man drew back, the unyielding presence of the gun receding. “Who knows you’re here?”
Laurie bit her lip, staring at the little boy in horror. The boy had bruises on his arm and his face. He stared up at Laurie with a vacant expression. Laurie felt like he was staring straight through her. His short blond hair was also unkempt, and he was so thin his tiny wrist bones looked like they would crack if Laurie so much as reached over to take his hand.
“Who knows you’re here?” The gun was back at her temple.
The man pulled the gun away and smacked Laurie hard across her cheek. Laurie cried out as pain exploded in her head. The man behind her grabbed her hair, jerking her face up to look at the man with the gun.
“I radioed that I was on my way up. So, um, my boss, the whole housekeeping staff, and security.” Laurie shivered as she lied, her heart racing. Her boss would know, perhaps some of the other housekeepers, but she hadn’t radioed anyone. Security wouldn’t have any idea where she was.
There was a pause as the man before her thought that over. Laurie could feel his eyes pouring over her face, looking for any signs of a lie.
“Should we take her with us, too?” asked the man holding her.
“We’ve got enough baggage, I think.” The man waved his gun in the direction of the woman and child. Laurie trembled with the unspoken threat.
Laurie’s radio broke the tension as it crackled and beeped.
“Laurie? Have you started the penthouse room yet?” The radio chirped.
Laurie had never been so grateful to hear her boss’ voice in her whole life, but she was unsure of what to do about it.
“The front desk made a mistake. They haven’t checked out yet.” The radio crackled and bleeped.
Laurie didn’t move. She didn’t dare breathe.
“I’m not sure what to do with you, Ms. Shelton.” The man reached over and toyed with her nametag. Laurie trembled. Then he took a step back. “You see, I can’t take you with me because I have far too many people with me already. I can’t let you go because then you’ll tell people what you’ve seen.”
“No, I don’t have to tell anyone.” She shook her head as much as the brute holding her would allow.
“I don’t believe you.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice.
The gunman leaned against the fireplace mantel, his head resting against his free hand. He was so relaxed, so composed. Laurie had the distinct impression he was a cat toying with a ball of string.
“I swear. I swear I won’t tell anyone. I’ll just tell them I stopped to help a guest and I never even got up here before they radioed. I swear.” Laurie held her breath.
“Laurie? Laurie, are you okay?” came an urgent plea from her radio.
“It’s my boss. If I don’t answer, she’ll know something’s wrong.” Laurie locked eyes with the man. “She’ll send up security.”
There was a pause as the man weighed his options.
“Laurie? Are you okay? Do you need any help?” the radio asked.
“Ms. Shelton, I’m going to let you return to your work.” The gunman pushed away from the mantel. Laurie’s eyes welled with tears of relief. “But if you tell anyone you saw me, anyone at all, I will have you killed.”
“I won’t tell anyone, I swear.” Laurie looked at the floor in front of him.
“I won’t just have you killed.” The man swung the gun around to rest in front of the other blonde woman. “If you tell anyone who and what you saw, the son will watch his mother die before I turn the gun on him.”
The woman beside her didn’t scream, or flinch. Laurie saw her mouth tremble as she stared down the barrel of the gun, but that was the only outward show of fear she gave.
“You don’t have to do that. I won’t say anything, I promise.” A tear streaked down Laurie’s cheek.
“Good. Now get out. Remember, don’t say a single thing to anyone, or the woman dies.” The man turned his back on her, and walked over to the window.
The beefy man holding Laurie released her.
“Get out.” The gunman threw a scowl over his shoulder at her.
Laurie ran to the door. She flung it open and fled the room. To her horror, her legs failed to carry her further. Trembling, she sagged against the wall as she tried to calm her racing heart. She tried to crawl toward the nearest staircase, but her legs refused to move as they wobbled under another spasm. She nearly died; he almost killed her. A wave of dizziness hit her and she curled into a ball on the floor.
In her flight from the room, Laurie failed to notice the door hadn’t quite closed all the way. She jumped when she heard the voices emanating from the penthouse suite.
“Should I follow her boss? Kill her outside?” one of the henchmen asked.
“Don’t be stupid, you dog. Do you want their security guard to shoot you where you stand? Neither of you God forsaken morons brought a silencer. We shoot her in the building or outside of it, and resort security will lock the whole hotel down before we can leave. We wouldn’t want that now would we?” the gunman said. “No, we’ll let Ms. Shelton distract the cops while we leave. I’ll have her killed later tonight.”
Laurie’s eyes grew wide and round. With fresh urgency, she ran down all ten flights, tears streaming down her face. She pushed open the ground floor door and ran out into the bright sunshine.
CHAPTER TWO
Laurie sighed as she put away her uniform. She rubbed at a stain on the collar and sighed again. Hopefully, her manager wouldn’t notice. On second thought, perhaps it didn’t matter anymore.
She turned from the closet to stare at her bed. Her duffle bag lay open on top of the covers. Most of her clothes and toiletries were in the bag already. She couldn’t decide which books to bring. How was she supposed to fit her entire life into one tiny little suitcase?
Not that she had many possessions to begin with. She looked around the tiny closet of a room she’d called home for the past ten years. When she was hired, the resort manager pitied her. They offered her a small room on the lowest level of the resort. Its windows were level with the parking lot. She could hear the HVAC thrumming in the next room. It wasn’t fit for guests, but with nowhere else to go, Laurie thought it was the perfect place for her.
This wasn’t how she wanted to leave it—forced to flee because of some heinous criminal. She swallowed the bile in her throat, pushing the thoughts away. She reminded herself that in a few months she would have moved out of the resort anyway, and onto something better. She was just doing it a bit earlier than she planned.
She’d done the right thing. She’d called the police the second she ran back in the hotel after that animal threatened her. The police swarmed the building, but the gunman, his goons, the woman, and the child were gone. The police took her to the station to get her statement, though they seemed to doubt her credibility.
The cop she talked to finally pulled over a sketch artist. Once completed, the sketch changed everything. The cop dropped the hot coffee in his hand, spun on his heel, and ran to his boss’ office. Soon, the district attorney arrived, which shocked the hell out of Laurie.
The DA pulled her into a dimly lit conference room. He told her he needed to place her in protective custody as soon as possible—tonight in fact. She hadn’t been given a choice. The DA didn’t tell her who the gunman was in the penthouse suite, except to say that his name was Kaimi. The police department had not yet tied him to the kidnapping she apparently witnessed, and they were now very interested in what she had to say.
Then the DA ran from the room, his cell phone buzzing. She didn’t know who this Kaimi was or what he had done, but if her testimony ensured the man paid for his abuse of the woman and child, then she was willing to go with the U.S. Marshal who showed up at her door. It drove her crazy that the woman and child were out there somewhere being threatened, beaten. Or worse. Laurie winced and sighed.
Laurie glanced at her alarm clock. It was almost midnight. It looked like the U.S. Marshal wasn’t going to show-up tonight. So much for white knights in shining armor.
She dropped her open duffle bag on the floor, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Then she laid back, her legs still hanging half off, almost touching the floor. She laid her arm over her eyes. She maneuvered her body around her bed. Little by little, she moved her upper body, her torso, her left leg, and her right leg until her head lay on her pillow. She tossed her wavy blonde hair over the pillow, so it splayed out. Then she closed her eyes, drifting into an exhausted sleep.
***
Laurie was tied. Bound. Gagged. A gun pressed into her temple. She flinched and tried to move away, but it followed her.
“You are nothing to me. Nothing,” the male voice said. “If you try to run, I’ll just put a bullet in your brain. That’s it. So don’t ever try.”
The pistol withdrew for a moment and then came crashing down onto the backside of her shoulder. She cried out, but it sounded garbled. The pistol came after her again across her back. She let out a muffled whimper. The sound of the pistol hitting her bones pounded in her head. There was another whack and another, until Laurie doubled over, writhing in pain. Then she felt herself falling, the sounds of the pistol rapping against her body kept tempo as she fell down, down to the earth.
Laurie shot up in bed. She gasped for air, shuddering. Then the pounding in her dream started again. This time, it emanated from her door. Laurie looked over at the glowing clock. It was 1 am.
“Laurie Shelton! Laurie Shelton, this is the United States Marshals Service. Open up,” insisted the door.
Laurie’s brows arched. The pounding at the door resumed. She got up, pulling on her tattered bathrobe, cursing the bastard that waved his gun in her face. She hadn’t had nightmares in years.
The pounding persisted.
“Okay, I’m awake! I’m awake!” Laurie looked through the peephole.
There was a man standing there, a head taller than her. Her eyes slid over his wavy dark hair, down to his firm angular jaw line and high cheekbones. He had a heavy build, with muscles curving out from under his black t-shirt. His skin was like smooth caramel, warmed in the Hawaiian sun. He was wearing a heavy black vest, with the U.S. Marshals Service logo emblazoned in embroidery over his left shoulder. His badge hung from his neck on a chain. She could only see him from the waste up, but Laurie sucked in her breath.
“Ms. Shelton?” Concern flickered in his brown eyes before he knocked again. Laurie shook herself out of her daze, and flung open the door.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to come so late. I was asleep.” Laurie realized how stupid that sounded and blushed. Of course she was asleep at this time of night.
The Marshal looked her over for a minute, thoughtfully. His eyes took in her robe, her disheveled hair, all the way down to her bare feet.
Laurie crossed her arms over her chest. Her cheeks flamed under his scrutiny, and his eyes snapped back to her face.
“I’m sorry to arrive so late, ma’am. I’m Dante Stark from the U.S. Marshals Service.” Dante extended his hand to her.
Laurie shook it, giving him a weak smile.
She could tell he wasn’t from the islands. He sounded like the tourists from the eastern part of the continent, like New York or Philadelphia.
“You can call me Laurie. Please come in. I’ll try to gather all my things.” She opened the door wider and stepped back into her room.
Dante moved into the room, filling the tiny, cramped space with his lean, long figure. He surveyed the place in a glance. There was a desk, chair, bookcase, and a bed. That was it. His eyes landed on the closed bathroom door.
“Do you mind if I make sure no one else is here?” He nodded at the bathroom door.
“Well, no one else should be here.”
“It’s protocol. I need to make sure no one else is here.”
Laurie shrugged in answer. She was already too tired for this adventure. She moved to the foot of the bed to pick up the clothes she planned on wearing.
Dante drew his gun, reaching for the doorknob. With a swift motion, he entered the bathroom. He moved the shower curtain and checked out the window.
Laurie sat down on her bed, watching him.
Dante moved over to the closet opposite the bathroom. He moved aside clothes, inspecting the panels in the ceiling. He turned around from her closet and faced her.
“Excuse me, ma’am, can you get up from the bed? I have to check under it.”
“Laurie,” she reminded him, as she rose and stepped away.
Dante didn’t answer. He got down on his knees, looking under the bed. He removed a small flashlight from his vest, and flashed it into the shadowy corners.
Laurie felt small beside him and took a step back while he holstered his gun. He was a solid wall of male strength. He stood a foot away, but she felt the heat radiating off him. He flashed her a smile and her pulse leapt.
“All clear. I’ll wait while you change, but we need to move.”
Laurie nodded, and walked into the bathroom to change into her clothes. When she opened the door, Dante was bending over her desk looking at the class schedule she had posted on her corkboard. His eyes lifted to hers.
“You’re a student?”
“Law school. This is my last year.”
Dante took a seat on the only chair in the room. Laurie lifted her duffle bag onto the foot of her bed, and began picking her way through the nearest stack of books. She decided to take all of her Austen books—those she could read every day. She tossed aside most of her psychology books. Then she tucked her tattered copy of Utilitarianism by John Stewart Mill into her bag. She sorted through the most helpful books from her contract law class. She glanced at Dante. He was watching her, but his gaze darted away.
“Do you always pick up your witnesses at 1:00 a.m.?”
“No. You’re a special case. Are you planning to take all of those?”
“As many as I can fit. It’s just hard trying to decide between what I know I should take and what I want. Why am I special?”
Dante met her gaze as she sent him a sidelong glance. Something in the air crackled between them. Laurie looked away.
“Well, the case is special. The man you had a run-in with is Kaimi Quamboa, after all.”
“Exactly what did he do to warrant the DA’s personal and immediate attention?”
“He’s an organized crime boss on the islands. The DA’s been after him for years—ever since he took office. You saw him with a woman and child? You saw him with both of them?”
Now he had Laurie’s attention. Perhaps she could finally get some answers. She turned toward Dante as she tossed another book in her bag.
“Yes. Who were they?”
“The woman is Katherine James, and her son is Easton. Her husband is a federal prosecutor, Evan James. Evan put Kaimi’s brother on death row in California. He had him extradited and tried. Kaimi took it personally. He’s ransoming Katherine and Easton for his brother’s release.”
Laurie dropped the book in her hands as she turned to stare at Dante.
Dante nodded.
Laurie shook her head, picking up the fallen book from the floor.
“God, to attack a federal prosecutor’s family. The gall. The FBI would never negotiate with a kidnapper, would they?”
Dante shook his head. Laurie saw his jaw muscles tightened, his features solemn.
“The federal government won’t negotiate. More often than not, complying with a kidnapper’s demands leads to the victim being killed anyway.”
“If the government knows he’s behind the kidnapping, why do they need me?”
“Evidence. They have no other evidence. The demands come through voice-disguised calls from burner cell phones. Kaimi has eluded capture for decades for a reason. He’s good—too good. You’re the only person who’s seen him with his victims. You’re the only person who can connect him directly him to the kidnappings. If he does kill Katherine and Easton, you’re the only person who can tie him to their murder.”
A chill went down Laurie’s spine. The image of Kaimi’s gun swinging over to hover in front of Katherine James swam in front of her eyes. The look the little boy, Easton, gave her flashed in her mind. Laurie shook her head to clear the visions.
“He said he would kill her if I told anyone…they may already be dead.” Her voice became thick with emotion.
Her hands were shaking now as she placed two books into the duffle bag. Dante reached over and covered one of her hands with his. He gave her a reassuring squeeze, the warmth of his touch seeping into her skin.
“You don’t need to worry about that now. We need to worry about getting you out of here. Are you ready?”
“Almost.” Laurie gave him a grateful smile.
He nodded, and took back his hand.
Its absence left her skin tingling. For one brief moment, Laurie lost herself in his mocha colored eyes. She glanced away, and the world came rushing back. Laurie stared at her bed, trying to remember exactly what she was supposed to be doing right now. It took her a few moments to remember she needed to pack.
Laurie agonized over her books until Dante cleared his throat. She chose the most interesting books from her two classes this semester and tossed them in on top. Then she pulled open her desk drawer and took out several photos. Her mother, father, and a five-year-old version of herself smiled back at her. She tucked them into one of the books. She turned in a circle surveying her room.
“I think that’s it.”
Dante rose, but said nothing. He stood frozen. There was a soft scraping noise, and a muffled thump. Laurie dismissed the barely audible noise as she sorted through her books again. Dante grabbed her arm.
“Hey—” Laurie looked up at him as he covered her mouth with his hand.
He held her firmly, but Laurie felt no danger from him. More muffled sounds came from the bathroom. The window popped open, and Laurie jumped.
“Get in the closet, close the door, and don’t move until I tell you to,” Dante breathed the words in her ear.
He reached down to take out his gun.
Laurie’s heart pounded as she went into the closet and closed the door, except for a tiny sliver of a crack.
Dante moved so he was behind the bathroom door.
Laurie’s breathing became erratic. She felt around in her closet for something. She needed some weapon, just in case. Her hand brushed against her shoes, work boots, laundry detergent, and then she felt the base of the heavy, broken ceramic lamp she forgot to take down to the resort electrician. It would have to do.
She went back to the crack in the door. Dante hadn’t moved. He seemed to be a statue that had always stood behind her bathroom door. The wiry frame of a man appeared in Laurie’s bathroom, swathed in black pants and a long sleeve black shirt. His hair was covered by a black bandana, but Laurie saw his rich bronze skin.
He climbed down from the window with the help of the sink. The assailant looked out the open bathroom door and Laurie covered her mouth to keep from letting out a cry of alarm or throwing up. She kept breathing as her stomach churned in fear. The man stood there, staring at the closet door as if he knew she was in there.
A boot appeared through the open window. It fumbled to reach down to the sink. The other leg followed, almost slipping on the porcelain surface. The second man appeared as he climbed down. He was stockier, meatier, but dressed the same as the first. Laurie saw a flash of steel as the first man drew his gun from his waistband.
He strode into the bedroom. The first man turned toward Laurie’s empty bed. The second man was right behind him.
“Where is she?” the second man asked.
Dante leapt onto the second man. He wrapped one arm around the stocky frame, and pressed a knife to the man’s neck. Dante pointed his gun at the thinner man.
“U.S. Marshals Service!” Dante shouted. “Drop your weapon!”
The first man raised his gun toward his partner and Dante.
“Where’s the girl?”
“Drop your weapon and get down on the ground, now!”
“I have a job to do. Unless there’s a lot more of you in here, I plan to do it.” The thinner man cocked his gun.
“Hey, brah, don’t shoot. You’ll kill me!” The shorter man squirmed in Dante’s grasp.
“Put your weapon down!” Dante squeezed the neck of the man he held.
“Sorry, brah,” said the man with the gun.
Laurie didn’t know what came over her. A sudden surge of adrenaline coursed through her. She burst from the closet door, swinging the lamp at the assailant’s head like a baseball bat. The lamp hit with a sickening thunk and the man with the gun crumpled to the ground. Laurie stared down at him in abject horror. When she looked up at Dante, he already had cuffs on the other guy, securing him to an exposed pipe.
When he was done, he charged over to the other man. He kicked away the gun, and checked his pulse.
“I didn’t kill him did I?” Laurie trembled as Dante pushed her out of his way.
Dante said nothing. He cuffed the other man to the bedpost. Then he turned on Laurie, his brown eyes shooting lightning.
“What were you thinking?” He backed her up against the wall.
“I…”
“He could have killed you. I could have shot at him and killed you!”
“I don’t know. He was going to kill you. I had to do something.”
“I told you to get in the closet and not to move until I told you to move. You are not trained in law enforcement. I am! You could have gotten us both killed.”
“But, I thought he was going to kill you. I don’t know what came over me. I don’t. I’m sorry!”
Someone pounded at the door.
“Laurie? It’s Jim. What’s going on in there?” Jim pounded on the door again.
“Who is that?” Dante unholstered his gun.
“He’s part of the security staff.” Laurie stepped in front of Dante, her hands raised.
“Don’t move.” Dante took her by the shoulders and pushed her out of his way. “This time, I mean—don’t—move.”
He stalked to the door. After looking through the peephole, he yanked it open. A tall, muscular Hawaiian stood on the threshold. He had short black hair, a square jaw, and light brown eyes that looked formidable as he sized Dante up.
“I’m U.S. Marshal Dante Stark.” Dante shielded Laurie from view with his body. “I’d like to see your ID.”
“Is Laurie all right in there? The room above called us.” Jim craned his neck to catch a glimpse of her.
Laurie watched Dante scrutinize whatever Jim handed him.
“She’s fine.” Dante let Jim into the room.
“Whoa. What the hell?” Jim flicked his eyes from the two men handcuffed to Laurie’s furniture to Laurie, and then Dante.
“Jim!” Laurie almost ran to him, but Dante’s dark look stopped her cold. She wobbled on the spot, grasping for the words that might explain the situation.
“Laurie, what happened? Are you all right?” Jim took her hands in his.
“Ms. Shelton is now under the protective custody of the U.S. Marshals Service.” Dante scowled at him. “She was getting ready to leave with me when we were attacked. I need you to inform the local police department, and have these two assailants arrested. Ms. Shelton—we need to leave. Now.”
Dante moved back to her bed as he spoke, picking up the duffle bag.
“Whoa, whoa. Wait a minute there, Mr. Marshals Service. I’m not going to just let you take Laurie anywhere.” Jim released Laurie, and stepped between her and Dante. “How do I even know you’re not the one causing her trouble?”
Dante stared down his long straight nose at Jim. Laurie watched in helpless fascination as tension rose between them until Dante’s jaw muscles twitched. Jim put his hands on his hips, and straightened his spine in answer. They glared at each other for several seconds.
“It’s okay, Jim.” Laurie stepped between them. “He’s telling the truth. I have to leave because of what happened in the penthouse suite. We were getting ready when these two men broke in through my bathroom window. Dante was protecting me. He saved my life.”
Dante grunted behind her, but said nothing.
“Are you sure, Laurie?” Jim put a hand on her shoulder, looking into her eyes.
Dante moved past Jim, out into the hall, with Laurie’s duffle bag in hand. He paused at the threshold and looked back at her.
Laurie gulped down her fear.
“I’m sure. I have to go with him.” She gave Jim a hug. “Please tell Darcy and Mona I had to leave. I don’t know if or when I’ll talk to them again.”
“You have to leave right now?” Jim followed her to the door.
“No, ten minutes ago.” Dante swung her duffle bag onto his shoulder, glaring at Jim.
“I’m sorry.” Laurie hugged Jim again.
“Ms. Shelton!” Dante snapped.
“I have to go, I’m sorry!” Laurie tore herself away from Jim and ran toward Dante.
Laurie and Dante walked down the hall and into the whitewashed stairwell in silence. They exited the emergency door. Laurie followed Dante to an unmarked black SUV in the parking lot.
He unlocked her door, tossing her bag in the back. Laurie hoisted herself up into the cab.
Laurie stared out the window as Dante gunned the engine and left the parking lot. She watched as the only home she had known for the past ten years faded into a blur of lights as he got on the highway. As much as she had wanted to leave the hotel behind, she found herself tearing up. She had planned her departure. This wasn’t it. She didn’t say goodbye to anyone except Jim. There was no ‘good luck cake’ in the break room or dinner after her last shift. She was being ripped away. Tears fell in hot little waves down her face. She tried to cry quietly, turning away from Dante to muffle the sounds of loss she wanted to deny, but all she could think of was her friends and whether she would ever see them again.
