Devil May Care: Boxed Set (47 page)

I was down all three stories in less than five minutes. When I plopped down onto the lush, green grass, I heard it. A shout.

I didn’t waste time looking to see who had shouted or where it had come from or whether it was about me or not. I took off running as fast as I could, hoping that
somehow
I’d managed to save myself.

Rome

Malibu wasn’t exactly a small area and I didn’t have an exact address, so I was just driving up and down the streets, searching for…something. I didn’t even know what it was. A motorcycle parked out from with the license plate reading
Lucifer
? Or maybe I was supposed to be looking for a conspicuous cab that said
out of service due to kidnapping
.

The houses weren’t just houses, I noted. They were mansions. Probably a mixture of McMansions and custom jobs, but they were all huge and excessive. I wouldn’t mind some of the finer things, I supposed, even a bigger place to live, especially if Olivia and I—

I cut off that train of thought before it could go any further. And not because I didn’t think I’d find Olivia. I
would
find Olivia, but I wasn’t the settling down type, and she had been furious with me. It didn’t seem like a match made in heaven.

Still, I had to admit that I wanted to keep her.

The road was smooth as I drove, a sign that this area definitely had the money to keep up with. There was no question that this place was all money. From the stupid McMansions with their gaudy colors and gold trim, to the lush yards that probably went out several acres before merging into the neighbor’s lawn to the Mercedes, Ferarris, and Volvos parked in the driveways. It made me want to roll my eyes and sneer a little bit at these people. With that kind of money, why waste it on a five story mansion that you didn’t have enough people to fill, or cars you couldn’t maintain or drive?

It all just seemed a bit much to me. I could come up with some better things to do with that sort of money.

The problem that I noticed as I drove was that all of these houses looked the same.
Mansions, they’re fucking mansions.
Not that I really expected a neon sign to lead me to Jacob—
Lucifer
—but how was I supposed to have any idea where he was when there were no distinguishing features to the houses? At least if they looked a little different, then maybe I could make a wild guess, but this…I’d have to search all of them one at a time to figure it out, and that wasn’t likely to be very stealthy.

These people didn’t look like the type to hesitate to call if they thought someone didn’t belong in their neighborhood.

Still, I didn’t have a lot of other options. I was about ready to pull up to a house—any house—and get out to check it. Maybe look around the grounds first, check a few windows or the garage if I could, then go to the front door if all else failed. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was the only one I had. But just as I was slowing down, pulling closer to the curb, I saw a figure running.

Slim, so either young or a woman, sprinting across the lawn of one of the huge mansions. Her dark, wild hair whipped out behind her and as she got closer I noticed two things. One, her expression was flushed and one of barely restrained terror. Two, the woman was Olivia.

I jerked the car into park and popped the door open, hopping out of the car and coming around the front of it to intercept her. She hesitated, nearly stumbling as she slowed down, preparing to stop abruptly as soon as she saw me. Something funny twisted in my stomach. Was she still pissed? Was she pissed enough not to stop, to turn around and risk Jacob and his men rather than come to me?

The fears seeped into my mind and heart, clutching at me, but they were unfounded. Recognition crossed her face, and suddenly she was running again, maybe even faster than before. She slammed into me full force, wrapping her small, delicate arms around me. Her face pressed against my chest and I heard a sob amidst her heavy breathing.

Automatically, I clutched her, holding her tightly to me. “Jesus,” I breathed into her hair. “Jesus.”

She held me tighter, pressing herself as close to me as humanly possible,
needing
to be near me. And my body responded. It craved her, too, and the only thing stopping me from taking her in the backseat to do dirty things to her was the knowledge that we were still in a very dangerous position. Jacob was around here somewhere, or at least his men were, and if they caught us, I had the feeling they wouldn’t waste time with threats or kidnapping anymore. They’d just kill us.

“Are you okay?” I asked when I could finally spit out something other than
Jesus
.

She nodded her head, but I needed to hear her say it, so I pulled her back just a little bit. Not so far that we weren’t still wrapped up in each other’s embrace, but just enough so that I could see her face. Her eyes were red rimmed and her mascara was sloppy, her hair was in disarray, but she was beautiful. I was grateful to have her in my arms, to have her at all.

“Olivia?”

“I’m okay,” she croaked out, though her voice was thick with emotion. I could see it in her shaking limbs and her exhausted expression that whatever adrenaline boost had gotten her this far was finally wearing off—and taking its toll as a result.

“Thank god,” I murmured as I put a hand under her chin, tilting it up to me, right before I kissed her.

Her lips were as soft as I remembered and I was met with no resistance. In fact, she pulled herself closer to me and this time she wove her hands through my hair, holding my face to hers, keeping our lips fused together. The kiss was all intensity, mouths open, tongues dueling, passion spiking because I had been afraid that I would lose her forever. When we broke apart, she was breathless again for a different reason.

I dug into my pocket, searching for the keys. “Take the car,” I told her, fishing out the keys so that I could hand them to her. Her eyebrows went up in surprise, then pulled down in worry and confusion. She didn’t want me to leave her. I kept talking before she could say anything in response. “Get the hell out of here. Drive somewhere safe—
not
back to the motel. Go somewhere Jacob won’t think to look for you. Or better yet, get to the airport and book a ticket out of here. I’ll…” I hesitated, not sure if she wanted me to say this and not sure if it was true. “I’ll meet you when I’m done here.”

She shook her head even as I pressed the keys into her hand. “Don’t do this. Just come with me!”

“I’ve gotta take care of this first. I’ll meet you after.”

She hesitated, worry written plainly across her pretty features, and I felt a twist of pleasure race through me at the knowledge that she felt that
for me
. She was worried about me and suddenly all of the fight from before, all of the bickering, all of the uncertainty was gone.

Whether she was still pissed off at me or not, she was happy to see me and cared enough to worry. It was enough for now.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she nodded once. “I…I’m sorry about earlier. I freaked out and overreacted and I was just so scared that you were like Tom, but you’re not, I know that and I’m
sorry
that—”

I silenced her with a kiss, sealing our lips together and pulling her close to me again. My heart felt lighter, like someone had taken a huge weight off of it, and whatever anger I might have felt at being compared to a dick like Tom evaporated, lost in the knowledge that she apologized. That meant we still had a chance. and I’d be damned if I’d miss it.

When the kiss broke, I opened my eyes to see hers still fluttering. When they finally opened enough to search out mine, I reached out and cupped her cheek. I caressed her face gently, letting my fingers trail across her full lips. “It’s okay.”

She nodded. “Please come back to me. Stay alive.”

I smiled grimly, doing my best to seem confident, but I wasn’t. Not this time. “How did you get out?” I asked, gesturing back towards the mansion—it was at least four stories and maybe had a basement.

“They let me use the bathroom,” she admitted. “It was the only way to get untied. I was going to try to go out the window, like we did at that hotel, but we were too high up. I was on the third floor, I think.” She shook her head. “But I got lucky. The bathroom connected to a master bedroom and it had a balcony. I climbed down a trellis. Then I ran…and found you.” She said the last part quietly, almost like she couldn’t quite believe that I was here and had come for her.

I had to resist the strong urge to wrap her up in my arms again, because I knew that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to let her go. I’d get in that car with her and fly wherever she wanted and this would never be over. I had to finish things now so we could stop looking over our shoulders. Then I could have my moments with her—and I planned to have a lot of them.

“Go. Take the car. I’ll meet you at the airport.”

She nodded and reached up to me, pressing her mouth to mine one last time, fierce and willing. “Hurry.”

Then she turned away, because I thought she knew that we were running out of time, too. She rushed to the car and I watched her until she got in, slammed the door, and had the engine running. With one last look between us, I moved out of the way, rushing towards the lawn and the house she’d just come from. I looked back at her just in time to see her pull up the road and turn down a street. When she was completely out of sight, I ran across the lawn towards the mansion.

Olivia

I watched Rome for a long time. Part of me was still in shock. Not just from my ordeal, which was probably to be expected. After all, I’d just been kidnapped, and before that I’d been shot at and before that I’d nearly been raped. There was no question that I’d been through more in the last week than most normal people go through in their entire lives. I figured it was pretty normal to deal with some anxiety or shock or whatever over the whole thing.

But that wasn’t why I was in shock.

When I’d left Rome, I had been terrified. Worried that he was the same kind of man that Tom was, exhibiting the same sort of behaviors that were indicators of abuse and control and all the things I definitely didn’t need in my life, much less a second time around. I had thought—or maybe was just willing to believe because I was scared—that Rome was a monster, but I’d seen real monsters now and I was pretty sure I could tell the difference.

Rome had come to save me. There was no question in my mind about that. There was no reason for him to be driving around aimlessly in Malibu houses, searching these massive mansions as he trundled slowly along in this beat up car. None at all. Not unless he was here for me.

And that was the part that shocked me.

I’d been a real bitch to him, too terrified and angry to be thinking clearly and, as a result, I’d run from the man who was the only one interested in protecting me these days. How could I have been so stupid?

Now Rome was here, saving me and risking his life and telling me to go, to get to safety, only thinking about
me.
He didn’t seem to care what happened to himself so long as I was safe—and there was little in this world that I found more attractive than a man who would put me first.

That being said, it also had me a little panicked. Under normal situations, being put first meant opening the door for me or paying for my meal. Here it meant that Rome might
die
. Still, what could I do for him? So I accepted the keys when he pressed them tightly, insistently into my palm. And then I got into the car, even though I desperately wished he would come with me. And I started that car, even though our eyes were locked together and I was terrified for him. When I set the car into drive and pulled away from the curb, it took everything I had to gently push my foot down on the gas pedal. I knew that I needed to leave, but it was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do. Harder than leaving Tom had ever been. Mostly because now I knew that Rome wasn’t the kind of guy who was going to ruin my life. He was the kind of guy determined to save it.

It was a pretty big, noticeable difference that was most definitely not lost on me.

As I drove away, I kept Rome in the rearview mirror for as long as I could, watching as he got smaller and smaller against the backdrop of the ridiculously large mansion that I’d just escaped from. Finally, I rounded a corner and he disappeared.

Once he was gone, I thought it would be easier to keep going. It didn’t. I made it out of the Malibu neighborhood and onto the highway, pulling into traffic, which at least wasn’t near as bad as it had been the last day or so of driving, but I couldn’t really muster up a lot of enthusiasm about even that. Not with Rome still back there.

Road signs for LAX were big, noticeable, and easily directed me towards the airport. He had told me to meet him there, to get myself out of trouble and to safety, but there was something about the way he’d said it that had me on edge. He’d told me to go to the airport and to safety, but really, was home safe anymore? I wasn’t sure. It didn’t
feel
safe, not without Rome there to protect me against those awful men—Jacob’s men, hadn’t he called them?—and I wasn’t sure if it ever would. There were other places I could probably go. If I went to Nevada, I’d fly into Vegas anyway, since there wasn’t a direct flight to the little sublet outside of the much larger Sin City. If I wanted to, I knew that mom would gladly welcome me and let me stay for a while. As long as I wanted, really.

She’d been running through guys a lot since dad, but none of them ever made that spark in her flare up again. I wasn’t sure if it was a sexual spark or just some mystical spark that meant you were in love, not that that particular spark had done her any favors with dad, but I had a feeling that was the one she was searching for. Maybe they were one and the same. I didn’t know if she had one staying with her now; she usually called me with they finally bailed on her, deciding that her fading beauty, her alcoholism, and her drunken comparisons of them to this mythical creature that was the perfect man weren’t worth the effort. I hadn’t heard from her in a while, so I assumed she was either in a lulling period of having no man at all or she was still with her latest man.

Either way, she’d kick him to the couch or the curb if I showed up and asked her to. She always told me, “You’re my baby. You’re the only one who’s ever loved me, even when I fucked up and didn’t deserve it.”

Most of the time I rolled my eyes at her and had to resist the urge to tell her that she was a total fuck up of a mother, but today it had me tearing up. Her unconditional love, as useless as it so often seemed, was now the kind of lifeline I could cling to. I knew without a doubt that if I told her everything that was going on in my life, everything that had been so crazy and dangerous and confusing, she would still let me in. She’d make me a cup of hot chocolate with half of the mug filled with marshmallows and spiked with just a little bit of whiskey, then tell me that I was awesome and everything would be okay, even if it probably wouldn’t.

It had been a long time since I’d initiated contact with her. Part of that had been me trying to distance myself from her craziness and the stupid guys who thought being nice to me meant they were on solid ground with my mother. But most of that distance had actually been Tom’s doing.

I hadn’t realized it at the time, but Tom had made me lose touch with a lot of things. My mother, who had been so crazy that at the time he suggested I stop talking to her, it seemed like a wise decision. But other people, too. My old friends, the ones in Vegas and the ones in town. The women who were too independent and the men who were too attractive, too flirty, even though they weren’t interested in more than friendship with me. All of them had suddenly been “bad influences” for me and Tom had demanded, subtly at first and then not so subtly later, that I ditch them. All of them. And though I couldn’t say why now, I had done it. For love of him or something equally ridiculous, but at the time I had been desperate to keep him and was willing to do a lot to meet that end.

“I was such an idiot,” I said aloud to the empty car, watching as I moved closer towards LAX, the signs announcing that it wouldn’t be more than a few miles now.

Thinking about how Tom was, I wondered how I had ever thought Rome was the same. Maybe it was just my own paranoia—okay, a lot of it had been my own paranoia. Or maybe I just didn’t know Rome well enough, but I could see now that the things Rome did were about protecting me, not controlling me. Maybe there was a fine line that was difficult for me to distinguish between, but Tom was the sort of person I didn’t need in my life in any capacity. I was too scared to admit that, so Rome did something drastic.

Maybe it wasn’t right, but I wasn’t so sure anymore that it was completely wrong.

I got closer to the exit lane, preparing to get off soon as I got closer to my destination. My palms became sweaty and I wiped them nervously on my jeans, one at a time so I could leave the other on the leather steering wheel which had grown hot from the sun.

There were a few things that I was absolutely positive about in that moment. First, Tom was a terrible, awful man and I’d been a fool for staying with him as long as I had. The second was that Tom would never have risked his life for me like Rome was doing right now. It meant that I was once again absolutely stupid and Rome
couldn’t
be anything like Tom.

He just wasn’t like that.

As soon as I’d accepted this conclusion as fact, I took the next exit. It was well before LAX and I found myself in some little neighborhood. Santa something, I thought. I didn’t care. All I needed to do was turn around and get right back on the highway. Thankfully, the traffic wasn’t too bad going back the way I’d just come, so when I got on we were moving steadily along. It wasn’t as fast as I would have liked, but at least I was moving in the right direction now.

I’d been stupid for so long now that I couldn’t make yet another stupid decision when it came to Rome. I’d run from him and accused him of things that he had clearly done, but for the right reasons. I’d yelled at him, said horrible things, and thought horrible things about him. And he’d still come to save me. Even when we first met I’d written him off, but Rome was the kind of man who would always be persistent. I felt like I owed him that same courtesy.

Sitting in traffic was horrible. I wanted us to move faster, to get back to that Malibu exit and drive through the neighborhood with all those stupid McMansions with their lavish, gaudy interiors and their haughty exteriors. I needed to get back there as soon as I could. I just prayed that “as soon as I could” was soon enough.

“Please, let him be alright.”

Rome was risking his life for me and I finally decided that was both brave and absolutely not right. I already owed him so much; how many times was I going to let him save my life while I stared hopelessly? Not this time, I decided. This time, I was going to help, in whatever way I could, no matter what.

I just hoped that I would get there in time.