Love Found Me (A City Love Novel, Book 1) (24 page)

"
No ...
You're the fool." Danielle butt in. "You crazy lunatic." She straightened her leather to her shoulders, "What'd you think, you could get away with it?"

"Who's gonna stop me?" His grin rolled toward an insolent smirk, as he regained his stance and said, "Who, you and your boyfriend." Barton's scowled gaze came closer as he studied Danielle's expression.

"He's working for us 'ya know," Barton admitted, as Danielle narrowed her eyes. "Yeah that's right." He cleared his throat, "You heard me right...  Guess he didn't tell 'ya that huh?"

Danielle gave a blank stare. She looked down, as if she didn't want to believe it. Matter of fact, she refused to believe it.
They're all a bunch of liars
. She thought to herself.

She'd tried to hide her reaction. Danielle refused to believe it, once she and Roman had gotten pretty good at reading the other. Roman never doubted her, just like she refused to doubt him now. She just knew in her gut -- she didn't need to convince herself that -- it wasn't true.

Although what came to mind, was the silence-- Danielle hadn't since running into Barton near the steps, heard any of Roman's supposed battling it out. As if he'd gone missing. Suddenly, the seagulls flocking were just about the only thing stirring the yacht, aside from the engine setback and the fist that was wrangling to meet her as its target.

"You're lying. You're a damn liar," she said. Her voice was so loud that it clapped a seagull right off its lacquered perch along the rail. "That's what you are, nothing but a lying
coward
."

Barton's expression glared an audacious grin, as beads of sweat had begun to drizzle her forehead.

That one word must have hit a nerve in him when suddenly Barton repeated, "Coward, huh?" He barreled toward her and yanked her hair, fisting it into a tight ponytail. Barton pulled her closer, grappling her in a chokehold that had her flesh turn a pale yellow.

"Let go of me," she gasped in a choked voice that made every word fade toward a pitch lower than the previous. The sound of her wail totally underestimated the strength of his muscle rooting deeper. Her hair pulled at the scalp as her head bowed in his strong grasp clamping even tighter by the second.

"I said let g--"

Roman had been out of it for several seconds, looking as if he hadn't an ounce of strength left in him. But he was tougher than defeat. Much tougher. He wasn't about to back down from that weak point that would only last a flash.

Suddenly, Roman's eyes popped open and his chiseled tan quickly smoldered red. His hands sinewy and pulsing fury... His eyes were searing revenge and a wild piranha spirit as his fists tightened and his knuckles surfed the bone.

Roman's head rose up, "It's payback time."

The menace in Roman's low-pitched voice had his eyes light up with a spark of raging fire. The way Roman looked, he wouldn't have been able to stop once he got a hold of the brute waving his hands in the air like a champion-- so haughty in his ways.

The brute was still relentless, jumping up and down with his fists reeling for battle. That was until Roman suddenly leaped into a karate man of action.

Towering his six-foot-four shadow, Roman sprung the widest angled leg kick that boomeranged into the brute's gut, smacking into his belly with the force of a ton of bricks. He'd never stood a chance in knowing what had hit him the moment Roman's leg gaveled another tomahawk straight into the pit of his stomach.

The brute fell to his knees quickly rising in a huff, as Roman's sweat ladled buckets. Then out of nowhere, Roman came at his burly build, aimed straight for his thick and meaty back. Jumping clear into the air, Roman surged at him with a backward kick that spun so fast it could have played back in stunning slow-motion.

Roman could've pummeled the brute to a pulp. He could've slapped the sweat hosing off him in a torrent until he'd begged for mercy. The goon was panting with the last breath inside of him when Roman's next double side kick instantly knocked him out cold.

There was no time for triumph.

Roman's stomach knotted when he'd heard a scream crush the vibration of the brute plummeting his nose-dive to the deck.

"Danielle!" The peril in Roman's voice shrilled beyond worry that had him bolting with the same fury he'd crushed into Barton's goon only moments ago.

He called out again in desperation, "Danielle!" as he raced down the deck that felt like a maze of obstacle within every crucial second.

Suddenly, the scream muted, as Roman tore clear across the expanse in a mad flash with that same plea of panic. Sudden haze was sifting his sights in and out for a few brief seconds, as it had begun to clear up the moment he'd neared the deck's hull.

Roman closed in on two silhouettes tussling against a narrow corridor of steps.  All he'd heard was an eerie shrill and breathless panting, until the echoing of the latter suddenly trailed off before it had completely stopped.

Suddenly, the feisty fight was gone from her. Barton had knocked Danielle unconscious, dragging her like a lifeless mummy. The eerie sound was louder, escalating even louder by the inch. The shrillness scraping against the steps was the cue that drew Roman's attention.

Barton had his back toward the deck, pulling her up the stairway, each glittery heel clapping against the riser. A weighted shadow suddenly towered over his when he looked up over his plaid shoulder stunned.

Barton's pale eyebrows instantly rose way up over his eyes that widened like saucers. "Hey, what are you doin--" Roman tore into his words when he'd yanked the collar of his plaid, bowing Barton's insolent smirk with it.

Roman's voice lit into the yacht, sending a vibration all through it. Roman meant what he told Danielle, and Barton wasn't about to have him break his promise to protect her. "No one hurts my woman and gets away with it."

Roman's hair shellacked his forehead like wet plaster, while Barton's pale dubbed a new shade of dull. His glassy eyes sunk behind his barely visible lashes outshining the flash of his pinky ring diamonds.

Roman was still wild with fury after he'd snuck up behind Barton. And it didn't make matters any better now that he'd had another battle on his hands with Barton's threats.

Tossing back his sleeves, Roman pinched a vital pressure point in Barton's neck that sent him to his knees, and Danielle tumbling down the staircase.

"Oh, my god... Danielle!" Roman bolted down the steps to her.

Her eyes were half-lidded when she'd mouthed to Roman, "Get him."

Suddenly, Barton barreled into Roman bowed at Danielle's side, jolting him into the side of the stair rail. They both gaveled their way up the steps back up on deck, fisting each other with the fierceness and intensity of a weighted glove.

The second it took her to realize her man was battling it out for her, she'd realized everything she'd initially thought was totally wrong. Now she'd had more than enough proof to believe the total opposite. He was willing to jeopardize his life for her. He had the guts to fight to the finish... For her--
For love
.

Danielle no longer feared trust. Blaming the losers in her life didn't allow her the chance to move forward-- to rid the negative vibes plaguing her relationships. She'd held back too long pushing papers behind an office door. Now was her time to blossom into something more.

Suddenly, there was a roar from behind.

In the midst of the action, it was hard to believe that Danielle had regained her vitality considering she'd been completely out of it for several minutes.

But, Danielle wasn't about to give Barton the satisfaction of seeing her periled. She'd worked out the panic to a brewing pot of fury, as she'd suddenly rose up. Her slender frame poised monumental. Her eyes were dark and intense when she'd spun a kick so fast, her heel was a weapon in itself, daggering Barton's groin like sharpened scissors.

Danielle felt like she'd had all the strength in the universe. She was a wild woman with that same fury Roman had. Barton made her so mad. She was so infuriated, she'd charged at him with all the strength her slender frame could hold.

She hadn't thought at all about the danger. Only rocking his world like he'd rocked hers to a peril. Her career. Her relationships were a victim of his toxic trap.

Sweat hosed the deck floor as she'd pushed the wet hair from her eyes, plastering her face like a drenched poodle.

Roman stood in awe. Danielle's jacket buckles clanged against Barton's diamond-encrusted rings, the moment he'd dropped at her side to his knees.

Barton's eyes rolled back in his head, the second he'd said, "You b----" His wailing drew silent as he fell to the floor, cupping his groin with the clutches of life like there was no tomorrow. He bit down on his hand silently screaming. He felt pure torture stinging, aching and gnawing. Danielle knew he'd deserved every bit and more. She was itching to kick him in the gut for another round. He had it coming.

She was the victim of being in the wrong element. The victim of a dirty, brazen, whopping multi-million dollar scandal -- massive amounts of money -- a fortune that would chokehold any jackpot.

She'd been a certifiable fool.

Danielle regretted her gullible tolerance against Trumball's presence unbeknownst of their trap that was meant to destroy her.

But, their ordeal had yet to be over.

Chapter Twenty-One

After giving Barton a piece of her pointy-toed wrath, she was still blazing a return back to herself.

"Trumball..." was the one name she'd managed to utter, as she looked straight at Roman. Her panting was relentless. "What about--" Danielle's breath sawed in and out for seconds on end as she fought to edge the words from her mouth. "They're... Going To...  Get... Awayyy." 

Danielle's slender frame bowed forward, as she cupped her hands to her knees in full force in an open attempt at rejuvenation. She was sucking in mouthfuls of the sea breeze. Her head tipped toward the deck floor as she waited for the heavy breaths to wane off.

After a long minute she told him, "They're others." And then she gasped a short breath. "They must be loading the--"

Shock had immediately cut her words when Roman admitted, "I know." The instant those words hit her, she quickly rose up. Danielle looked quizzical.

"But..." was the one word she said, followed by a weighty silence. She didn't know what to say. She couldn't even blurt anything for a minute or two, looking into his eyes churning that same shadowy suspicion she swore she wouldn't give any light to.

Her thoughts instantly sprung into a swirling rationale...
Why hadn't Roman gone after Trumball and the rest of the crew? What about the evidence crawling the alcoves of the vessel? All the money and contraband they're hiding?
But, her curiosity would be instantly mashed by the sound of Barton's wails butting into her contemplation.

Even though her words had stopped cold, that didn't mean her brain had checked out of the thought. Danielle's eyes suddenly darted to Barton's annoyance rattling her ears, as he stilled, crouched in agonizing pain.

She'd never seen Barton look so pathetic. The usually fine-dressed man was a mess of rags. His tattered, ruffled clothes couldn't outshine his scuffed up face that was all scratched and bruised, his nose leaking dark crimson all over his overcoat dotting the pinstripes in his plaid. His handkerchief, a snotty soaked remnant worse than before he'd replaced it.

Barton's gaze zoomed behind her, as Danielle stood reposed in a breathless attempt to renew her composure. He quickly looked away, hoping she hadn't noticed a gargantuan shadow approaching. He was a seven-foot giant: feet like a clown, arms that rivaled a lamppost, and hands that could've clobbered the moon in his fists.

Danielle clamped her heel on Barton, pinning him on the deck floor, as Roman's focus drew on the immense shadow forming.

His seven-foot frame appeared monstrous, even to Roman. All he saw was a dark cloud suddenly entangle and mount his profile as if day had suddenly turned to night.

The instant Roman fisted him in the gut; he'd felt like he punched a ton of steel bricks. Roman cocked a brow at Danielle just as he saw her poised over Barton, having battled it out with sweat still dripping her brow.

Roman's veins started to smolder the rage once more.
Protection. Honor.
Virtue drove his thoughts. Suddenly, he'd shifted into gallant manliness for the woman he loved.

The gargantuan rumbled a low crusty growl that rattled the deck lights against their sheathing, as he pitched his coat to the floor and stomped toward Roman. At that moment, his massively furred brows snapped together, as he found himself growing dangerously enraged by Roman's prompting. The man was bulging huge rifts in his shirt that appeared to burst as his salivating oozed from his grimly mouth in radial spurts.

Roman turned and met the eye of the man that was like a toothpick to his self-raging fury. The brute stood like a towering monument. Size didn't matter. Because, what his seven-foot profile didn't know-- was likely going to pummel him.

The gargantuan didn't stand a chance with Roman's feet of ferocity, and fists daggering wrath into sharpened blades of lightning. Their fists barely boomeranged, once Roman upped his muscular vigor, exchanging most of the blows. Roman had swung a karate leg double kick-- thrust straight into the pit of his stomach. The brute didn't know what hit him when he skidded across the slick floor nearly missing the foot of a patio table.

He'd barely edged himself off the floor from the fetal position, when Roman suddenly chiseled a heavy fist into his jaw, coaxing his already smoldering dark eyes into a tease.

"Wanna piece of me?" Roman was cunning as he spoke, even though he knew the brute was edging to tear the lion out that was certain to be inside of his already thrashed profile.

But, there certainly wouldn't be any showing of lion this morning, as the brute struggled to regain his footing, zigzagging into the yacht's rim. From where he stood, the rolling waves looked like an infinite canvas of aquamarine flooded with tidal peaks rocketing the horizon line.

Roman‘s fists were searing red when he punched straight into his face again. And then his fists tightened as he drew another bone surfing, piranha pulsing punch-- straight between the eyes. Clearly, he was no match for Roman's karate belted brawn.

The monstrosity of a man was out cold-- all in a matter of seconds.

Danielle didn't say a word as her eyes widened, but Roman could tell she was amazed at how quickly he'd handled the overgrown fiend. "Lucky break huh," he panted. "Told you these hands work like magic."

Her mouth shifted up into one of her lovely smiles that radiated an intense heat in his already breathless words. She parted her lips to speak, but then she'd realized the scum of the earth lay parked at her side.

Barton was still crouched when she yanked his collar, jerking his head along with it, "Who's in it with you." She rattled his collar again, "
I said
," her voice rose an octave, "Who are you working with besides Trumball?" Danielle's sharp eyes skewered Barton's with a vengeance.

"I'll get him to talk," Roman told her breathlessly.

"No. Let me," Danielle flat-out insisted on grinding the truth out herself.

Roman was still panting when Barton's snarling stirred a commotion. His mouth moved up to his infamous smirk when he'd said, "Go to h---"

How crudely ignorant of him... he's such a rude bastard.
Her murmuring amplified increasingly intolerant of Barton while his expression grew even more impassive the instant she told Roman, "Guess he hasn't had enough."

Danielle drove her nails into his fleshy neck, "Barton, you just don't seem to get it do you? Hurting people is not okay."

"What do you call this?" Barton responded, his words curt and rough. "Child's play." He seesawed in an attempt to free himself from her firm grip. He didn't let up. "Get your claws off me! ... You crazy--"

She cut him off. "
You're not
..." She started her words, but then she'd paused while her hands plowed into his neck with a deeper piercing force. "I'm telling you that you're
not
going to get off easy,
you slimy fraud
."

She pinched a nerve that had beads of sweat saucing his wispy lashes. Barton was fixated on payback. He hated her interference and divulgence into their massive scheme. But, the feeling was more than mutual, considering the way he'd treated her.

Her dark eyes were brooding shears to Barton's cold lifeless stare-- devoid of any feeling.

Barton was still on his knees in graveling position. He looked like every bone in his body was hedging a plea for mercy. But then, Danielle held no mercy in the palm of her own hands. Once again, her pinch suddenly tightened a clamp to his jaw, quickened with a pointy-toe kick aimed straight between his legs where it had hurt him the most.

The moment she'd given him the stare that said,
I'm warning you,
Barton knew that he didn't care to find out what she was going to do to him next.

She could have torn his guts out, when suddenly he pleaded, "Okay. Okay. I'll tell you." He choked on his breath cupping his groin. "I'll tell you everything. Just get that crazy broad away from me."

The very next moment, her eyes darted to Trumball on a small watercraft fleeing the yacht, just as Barton rose up on the rail with his arms flailing, yelling, "HEY! HEY! YOU TRAITOR!"

Almost at once, chaos was headed for an uproar. But then, the scene quickly shifted to shrinking panic nearly seconds later. Zipping against a torrent of waves, an army of vessels rumbled on and on until flashing lights surrounded the yacht nearing morning's edge.

Sirens roared along the banks of the shore, flickering alarm that wrestled rays bursting goldenrod. Then, without delay, a powerful command riled over unsteady waters...

"WE HAVE THE VESSEL SURROUNDED --"

The megaphone roared loud and clear, vibrating a pinch of wave against the yacht's anchor, as another fleet of vessels gathered speed against the tides.

When suddenly, the sun burst over the yacht, marbling both their eyes in a renewed state of calm. It was a new layer of resolve.

It was the sound of triumph.

"Oh. That was awfully quick. But how'd they know--" Danielle nodded, leaning close so she could hear Roman's voice over the sound of the local fleet motoring closer. She shook her head, "Ohhh."

Roman was struck by how well she'd handled herself with those goons. Still, they had whatever backlash teetered on the brink of destroying her credibility and reputation.

Danielle swallowed hard, almost crying, remembering how just days ago her entire world was shattered. The morning unfolded in a parade of interrogation, and finally officials were confident her testimony would bring the felons to justice.

Roman proved more than the man she had expected, but even though she was amazed by what he'd done to protect her, she still had to wonder how Roman played into the scheme of things and piece together what had happened.

Making their way to the pier, Danielle was looking up at Roman when she said, "It wasn't just Barton and Trumball."

The look on his face told her that she hadn't begun to know the half of it, when he said, "I know."

He was very suave and cavalier, considering his attire poured patches of sweat in and out. But he knew what she had to be thinking. It was logical. It was what anyone would want to know, considering his earlier behavior.

Just then Danielle remembered Roman admitting a vague familiarity of the situation to which he'd never answered. But she'd just brushed it off aside from the fact she'd been tending to her stint with Barton's neck, and a warranted confession.

Standing at the foot of the pier, she felt a chill raise up her spine as she realized quite clearly, there was nothing he could say that would cause her to leave him-- ever.

But still, she wanted closure.

"But how'd you?" She asked instead, "How'd you ever get involved... How did you know about me... about all of this in the first place?"

"That's what I couldn't tell you." Roman nodded before turning back to Danielle to explain, "You were a pawn in their plan. But they didn't expect with your promotion, you'd be drudging up all their dirt. They knew you were smart, and that it was only a matter of
when
." He directed her attention to the seized contraband being hoisted from the hull of the yacht.

"They had to beat you to it... nail you, before you nailed them," he said. "And that's where I come in."

He perked a small smile saying, "Well, let's just say I'm a consultant. I'm the guy
they
call... what I mean by
they
, are all the officials who can't figure their way around a server, and all that technically complex and complicated jargon... just any and everything techie...”

“I'm the man they call when they need an
expert
eye. I get a pretty penny for the trouble. Bad choice of words... let's just say that I get down to the bones of the recovery schemes to help bring the bad guys to justice." 

Roman explained to her, "We'd been working this for months. It all stemmed from Peterson and Macgregor who hired Barton to set up a bunch of dummy corporations..."

"Shells you mean..."

"Yeah, they were running all this through your buddy Josh and he in turn coaxed Amanda Zeckler into their scheme."

"You mean all of them--" she hedged, before giving a quick shake of her head. "I should have known Amanda would have been involved."

Watching seagulls circling the length of the pier, Danielle paused and took a deep breath of the fresh air, the refreshing spurt of mist drizzling her lungs with salt water.

"I'd almost completely ruled out Peterson as the brains behind the scheme until I found Macgregor's reports lying around the private office I told you about." Actually, Danielle had her suspicions confirmed ever since that
confidential
letter stirred up the notion suggesting accounting improprieties. She'd discovered Barton was involved in something underhanded, but she'd needed proof to divulge the man behind the phony corporations. "And then I pieced two and two together," she added.

"You're quite a woman. You're something." Roman walked a couple steps nearing the fish lapping under the weatherworn plank. Bowing toward their playful splashing, he'd stopped for a quick second before he moved back towards her.